The ceremony had been dragging on for nearly an hour. Kaelia knelt on the frigid marble, her knees numb and aching.

The temple was wreathed in the smoke of burning laurel leaves. The crisp, clean scent, meant to symbolize sanctity and glory, now only made her stomach churn with nausea.

Because that scent was mixing with a memory—the scorched, acrid smell of her home burning to ashes.

“Liar! You madwoman, you bringer of misfortune!” Her father's roars still echoed in her ears. He had struck her, sending her sprawling to the ground before the contemptuous gazes of the nobility. In the distance, the enemy’s banners were already being raised over the city walls of Troy.

A memory that did not belong to this moment stabbed into her mind.

Kaelia’s body swayed. She bit down hard on her lower lip, using the sharp pain to drag herself back to reality.

She was back. Back at the beginning of her fated path.

She glanced at her father, the king, kneeling not far away, his face a mask of piety and anticipation. Kaelia knew he had long forgotten how he had personally thrown his own daughter, the one who had prophesied the truth, into the dungeons.

Mortals were so forgetful.

But gods were not.

Just then, the very air in the grand hall shifted.

An indescribable pressure descended upon everyone, a bizarre sensation that was both intensely bright and utterly cold. All present prostrated themselves, not daring to even lift their heads, muttering praises to the god.

There was no sound, no voice.

There was only a pure, vast, emotionless “presence.”

Silent, distant, it used its very existence to make you understand your own insignificance.

This was the god, Apollo.

The High Priest stepped forward, his magnificent robes seeming to flow under the divine light. A faint, inhuman gold shimmered in his eyes. He was “channeling,” speaking for the god.

“Kaelia,” the priest began in a toneless, puppet-like voice, “the Lord has seen you. Your vessel is passably clean, and your soul is humble enough to be worthy of his service.”

Kaelia scoffed inwardly.

Humble? If he could truly see into her soul, he would have seen the sea of fire forged from pure hatred that burned in its depths.

“The Lord has decided to elevate you to be his mortal Saintess,” the priest continued, reciting the “divine oracle.” “You shall serve the Lord, and in return, the Lord shall bestow upon your family the divine power to ‘see the future.’”

A wave of stifled gasps swept through the hall—the sound of profound envy.

Under the expectant gazes of all, Kaelia slowly lifted her head.

“My thanks for the Lord’s generosity,” she said, her voice soft but clear. “So, this isn’t a free gift, is it?”

At her words, the High Priest’s divinely possessed face stuttered for the first time.

“Insolence!” Her father, His Majesty the King, was the first to react. He hissed in a low, furious tone, “Kaelia! Be silent! Do you know who you are speaking to!”

The surrounding nobles shot her disapproving looks, and a flurry of whispers broke out.

“Lock her up! I have no such daughter who spouts such nonsense!” Her father’s roar overlapped with the clang of the dungeon’s iron gate in her mind. Outside, the horns of the besieging army blared, while she could only watch in the damp darkness as the “truth” she had prophesied unfolded, step by step.

Another memory surged forth.

Her father’s reprimand now was so very similar to the one in her memory.

A searing wave of disgust rose from the bottom of Kaelia’s heart, granting her limitless courage. She ignored the pressure from everyone, stubbornly, even obstinately, continuing to speak.

She raised her voice, ensuring her words would be heard by the lofty existence above.

“I must ‘become a Saintess’ and ‘serve him’ to receive this ‘divine power.’ That doesn’t sound like a god’s grace. It sounds more like a transaction, one that requires a price.”

“If even the omnipotent Lord of Light must rely on ‘transactions’ to obtain the loyalty of a mortal, can I not then assume that this loyalty is something he doesn’t actually need all that much?”

This sentence finally elicited a violent reaction from the silent “divine presence.”

He still did not speak.

But the divine pressure blanketing everyone intensified tenfold in an instant!

A terrifying force composed of pure power, like an invisible hand, slammed Kaelia flat against the ground. Her bones creaked and groaned. A sweet, metallic taste filled her throat, and a mouthful of blood uncontrollably surged up.

He didn't even deign to refute her with words. He simply used the most direct application of force to make her “shut up.”

The High Priest’s face was ashen, sweat pouring down his back. When he spoke again, his puppet-like voice trembled, clearly relaying the god’s frigid, final judgment after being enraged.

“The Lord… has decreed…”

“You crave truth, so the Lord grants you truth. From this day forth, you shall see the decay and the end behind all things in this world.”

“But… the Lord has also judged that your soul is too wretched, your mouth filled with filth. Therefore, all truth that passes your lips shall, in the ears of others, be heard as lies.”

“The Lord says, you shall rot slowly, clinging to your truth, amidst the scorn and suspicion of those you love.”

“This is the punishment a mortal deserves.”

The judgment was complete.

The immense divine pressure receded like the tide.

The High Priest, as if all his strength had been drained, let out a cry and collapsed. Within the temple, everything returned to normal.

It was as if the divine punishment had been nothing but a hallucination.

Kaelia, sprawled on the floor, coughed up a mouthful of blood. Slowly, with every ounce of her strength, she pushed herself back to her feet under the terrified, disgusted, and contemptuous glares of everyone present.

She wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth and looked toward the empty altar.

She had won.

Because she had felt it, truly felt it. Hidden beneath that immense divine majesty was a flicker of irrepressible, indignant rage, ignited when she had struck his sore spot.

Slowly, a satisfied, victorious smile spread across Kaelia’s face.

So, Mr. High-and-Mighty God.

You do get angry after all, don't you?

The oracle ceremony ended on a sour note.

Kaelia was “escorted” back to her chambers by two burly guards. It was less an escort and more of a deportation.

The moment she was inside, the door slammed shut behind her. She had become a canary, confined to a gilded cage.

Not long after, her father, the king of Aeso, stormed in.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done!” He had abandoned even the most basic royal decorum, pointing a finger at Kaelia’s nose as he berated her. “You’ve disgraced us all! That was a god! Apollo himself! That he took notice of you was the greatest honor our family could receive, and you dared to refuse?”

Kaelia said nothing, merely looking at him with calm indifference.

This enraged the king further. He paced back and forth in the room. “Do you know what we’ve missed out on because of your foolishness? The divine power to ‘see the future’! With it, our city of Aeso could have been invincible forever! And now it’s all gone! All ruined by you, you imbecile!”

Her father’s flushed face and the spittle flying from his mouth made Kaelia’s mind drift.

She seemed to see another face.

It was after the fall of Troy. The enemy general, mounted on his horse, pointed his whip at her, caged in a prisoner’s cart, and laughed to his soldiers, “Look! There she is, the mad prophet who said we would breach the walls! She was right, but so what? Her king and father still threw her in the dungeons, didn’t he?”

See? Whether it was the father who saw her as an honor or the enemy who saw her as a joke, the way they looked at her was exactly the same.

She was just a tool.

The realization extinguished the last flicker of any sentiment she shouldn't have felt.

“Are you finished?” she asked coolly.

The king was taken aback by her lifeless demeanor. In the end, he could only point at her, his voice thick with frustration. “Fine! Fine! You will stay here and go nowhere! Reflect on what you’ve done!”

With a flick of his sleeve, he stormed out. The door was locked from the outside.

For the next few days, Kaelia truly went nowhere.

She spent her days eating, sleeping, and reading, as calm as if nothing had happened. But one fact was clearly etched in her mind: in seven days, a vicious plague would break out in the city.

This was an unavoidable turning point in her memory.

In her past life, it was her prediction of this plague, which no one believed, that cemented her reputation as a “madwoman.”

This time, she wouldn’t waste her breath on anyone.

She summoned a maidservant who was responsible for bringing her meals—a girl who was a bit greedy but generally obedient.

Kaelia took a gold bracelet from her jewelry box and handed it to her.

“Do something for me.”

The maid’s eyes lit up at the sight of the gold, and she nodded eagerly.

“Go to the herbalist outside the city and buy a few things for me.” Kaelia lowered her voice and listed several herbs. “Remember, get a large quantity. If anyone asks, tell them I plan to use them to create a new incense.”

Although the maid found the idea of using such bitter, astringent herbs for incense strange, the allure of the gold bracelet was too strong. She agreed without further questions.

Kaelia watched the maid’s retreating back, feeling nothing at all.

Bribery, manipulation, lies… the very things she once disdained were now things she did with practiced ease.

She waited quietly, like a hunter who had laid her trap.

What she didn’t know was that her prey, from his place in the divine realm, was coldly watching her every move.

Apollo had expected to see a pitiable creature weeping and begging him on her knees to retract the curse.

But what he saw was an overly calm Kaelia. She didn’t cry, she didn’t rage, she didn’t try to justify herself to anyone. She acted as if nothing was wrong, even secretly sending someone to buy foul-smelling herbs.

This was not normal.

Her very calmness was an act of defiance against his divine punishment.

This vexed Apollo and sparked a flicker of curiosity he himself was unwilling to acknowledge.

And so, that night, he decided to pay her a personal visit.

The god bows before her — Chapter 8

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