**Chapter 11 (Fanfiction) The Last Deception**
Today’s church is unlike the usual tranquility and solemnity; the grand knight hall is adorned with various flowers symbolizing love, and white doves, representing peace and promises, flutter above the Hall of Purity. The cardinals, who were once serious and stern, have changed their usual reticence and donned white garments to engage in lively discussions with old friends.
The holy city is hosting a grand festival, with sales of flowers, ornaments, and intricately crafted toys soaring. Many people have become couples on this day, and numerous couples have turned into spouses during this festival.
Today, the citizens celebrate, merchants rejoice, and poets sing. Today, the brave George returns victorious from slaying the demon king Macalos and is about to wed the Saintess, Jenna.
The Hall of Purity.
Bishop Gregos is conducting a baptism ceremony for the brave man returning from battle. The elder’s expression is solemn as he raises the church’s staff and intones mysterious ancient incantations.
During the final step of the ceremony, his bishop’s robe billows without wind, and the staff points toward the kneeling warrior below.
Sacred dawn light descends from the heavens, illuminating George, who opens his eyes in the brilliance.
Gregos smiles, “Child, congratulations, you have received the blessing of the God of Dawn; even the gods acknowledge your wedding.”
George looks at him, bewildered and confused, and speaks, “Marriage? Ceremony? Bishop, what are you talking about?”
“Ha ha,” Bishop Gregos laughs, clearly in good spirits. “Haven’t you recovered from the baptism yet? Don’t rush; take your time to prepare. The Saintess is waiting for you.”
With that, Bishop Gregos turns and leaves.
“Bishop…” George has not yet had the chance to ask when he feels a tap on his back, and his partner, who has trained hard with him in the knight hall, clasps his shoulder.
“What are you thinking? The days of carrying the church’s mission and battling the demon king are over. Walking into marriage with Miss Jenna is something we all dream of in the knight hall, so you must cherish it.”
Fighting the demon king… Jenna… marriage… those words flicker in his mind.
“Yes,” George holds his head, “In my memory, I once grasped the holy sword again, to search for a demon king’s whereabouts, and then…”
His partner pats his shoulder, feigning astonishment: “My goodness, is your happiness so great that even the God of Dawn is jealous of you, deliberately clouding your mind during the light of the baptism?”
This is a well-meaning teasing regarding George’s impending happiness, but it contains a hint of ridicule toward the God of Dawn, which would typically elicit a righteous rebuke from the earnest hero.
But today, George looks seriously at his partner: “Partner, I’m sorry; my memory of reclaiming the holy sword to hunt down the demon king is a bit hazy. Can you tell me more about it?”
Seeing George’s serious demeanor, his partner realizes he is not joking and becomes earnest.
“…The demon king Macalos has gathered four fragments of the demon king’s crown, and the church has proposed that all races in the mortal realm set aside their grievances and join forces to resist the impending army of demonkind…”
As his partner recounts the events, memories begin to clarify in George’s mind.
When he reclaimed the holy sword, Macalos had already gathered all the fragments of the demon king’s crown, greatly increasing his strength, becoming the new ruler of the demon realm. He again unified the demon world to wage war on the mortal realm. Though Macalos was powerful and cunning, the allied forces under the church fought with determination, and the demon army gained little advantage.
In the final battle, the demon king Macalos was pierced through the chest by him with the sword of judgment, beheaded by the holy blade. The crisis in the mortal realm was averted, and he became a hero. The allied forces on the battlefield cheered for his victory, and Saintess Jenna kissed him on the battlefield, promising to marry him as soon as they returned to the church. His proud father apologized for his past negligence and requested him to return to using his family name.
Memories rushing back, his partner earnestly praises his achievements, expressing admiration for the happiness he is about to attain; everything seems so perfect.
But a piece of his heart sinks, as if something has been lost: “Thank you, partner, I have recalled many things, but did you overlook someone very important that you didn’t mention to me?”
“Someone very important?” His partner smiles mischievously, teasing him: “Are you talking about that elegant but cold elf lady? Or the noble, graceful imperial princess? Or that fiery…”
“No, not them.” George’s expression is serious.
“Hey, young man, aren’t you being ungrateful with such a beautiful and virtuous lady Jenna by your side?” His partner pretends to be wise. “Though I can’t dictate whom you like, don’t let her down.”
“What did you just say?” George grabs his hand, his grip unexpectedly strong.
“Not being satisfied with such a beautiful lady Jenna?” His partner is surprised but struggles to break free from George’s grasp.
“Next line!”
“Though I can’t dictate whom you like…”
—Please, don’t look at me with that disgusting expression; I don’t care who you like. Don’t read too much into it; let’s keep our relationship purely physical.
Had someone ever said that to him? No, indeed a little succubus had said something like that.
An indescribable emotion rises in him, causing his chest to tremble slightly.
“I rescued that succubus from the demon king’s palace,” George shakes his head in confusion, “She… was called Jima, where did Jima go?”
His partner looks at him in disbelief: “You’re still thinking about that succubus who betrayed you?”
“Betrayal? Jima?” George’s expression is incredulous, “What are you talking about?”
Hearing the panic in his voice, his partner explains, “Did you forget? That succubus is a pawn revived by the original demon king, Gima. She was pretending to be innocent just to deceive and manipulate you. When you took back the supernatural substance from the dark elves at Blackwood Mountain, she stabbed you in the back, trying to take the supernatural substance for herself.”
Deception? Manipulation? Betrayal? Backstabbing?
George holds his head, a tearing pain surges from the depths of his soul as memories flash back.
His chest is unprotected, pierced from behind by a blood-colored spear.
Confusion and pain mix on his face as he turns to ask, “Jima, why?”
The shadows of the cloak fall across the succubus girl’s face, with no hesitation in her golden eyes.
“George, why be so clever? Wouldn’t it be better to be deceived by me forever?”
Her tone is overly calm, as if she had planned for this day all along. “If you were a little foolish, I could have continued playing this make-believe game with you forever.”
The sharp pain in his chest pulls him back from the memory.
Jima betrayed him; the recovered memories and the lingering pain in his chest clearly inform him of this fact.
“What the bishop said was true; demonkind is inherently evil and difficult to change,” his partner expressed indignantly. “From the moment you brought her back to the church, she was plotting how to betray you while you were good to her, even risking the bishop’s opposition to keep her.”
“No, that’s not it.” George shakes his head in confusion. “Jima, it wasn’t like that.”
“George!” His partner suddenly grabs his shoulders. “What’s wrong with you? Isn’t today a good day with Miss Jenna? Why are you still thinking about that succubus who has betrayed you? Do you really want to hurt Jenna because of her once again?”
“Jenna?” George’s eyes widen slightly.
“Your obstinacy at Blackwood Mountain not only hurt yourself but also harmed Miss Jenna,” his partner’s voice trembles slightly. “And even so, Miss Jenna is still waiting silently for you to come to your senses.”
He recalls the image of the Saintess: beautiful, holy, gentle, and kind, always supporting him and encouraging him from behind, waiting for him to return.
It’s a stark contrast to how Jima had coldly stabbed him from behind.
“Instead of thinking about that succubus who once hurt you, shouldn’t you cherish the current Jenna who protects you?”
George falls silent, Jima’s face in his memories gradually blurring while Jenna’s becomes clearer.
He lifts his head: “I’m sorry; my earlier emotions were a bit rude.”
His partner releases him, sighing, “It’s good that you’re aware of this. If you still insist on clinging to that succubus, I’ll have to request the bishop to reassess your mental state.”
“How about Jima, that succubus… what is she doing now?”
“She?” His partner shakes his head. “Who knows? Her plan to resurrect the demon king, Gima, has been exposed. The demon realm, largely dominated by Macalos, doesn’t have any affection for her, and she’s probably hiding in some corner, struggling to survive.”
“Let the past stay in the past; what you need to prepare for now is your future happiness, brave one.”
His partner sincerely feels happy for him.
George nods slowly, smiling: “You are right, I need to go back and prepare well.”
…
George encounters Jenna when he returns to his dwelling in the church.
The thin moonlight faintly illuminates the girl’s delicate figure. She is dressed simply in a white gown, golden hair cascading over her shoulders, one hand grazing her face as she gazes over.
Though her expression is unclear, it feels as if the moonlight became enchanting in her glance.
An unexpected delight rises in his heart, the heaviness stirred by Jima fading away.
“The bishop told me not to see you today,” Jenna lowers her head, appearing somewhat shy, “He said I would be the most beautiful as a bride tomorrow and wanted to give you a surprise, but I miss you and could not suppress this feeling.”
George smiles, admiring Jenna before him. She has always been so beautiful, with a holy and elegant demeanor. The shy look on her face adds a different charm.
They understand each other; since joining the church, they have been the best of partners, fighting alongside each other through adversity and completing many seemingly impossible tasks.
Jenna encouraged him in moments of despair and accompanied him in times of failure. She is the perfect girl beyond reproach, and tomorrow, she will become his bride.
What could he possibly be unsatisfied with? What could he regret?
“Not just tomorrow; even before, from the moment I met you, my surprise began.”
“George,” Jenna主动 embraces him, “When did you become so eloquent?”
The girl’s delicate form fits snugly against him, the scent of jasmine drifting into his nose, a hint of skin peeks out from her hair, blushing with shyness.
“You know, the knights of the church only speak the truth,” he holds her in return, “Just now when I was received into the church by Bishop Gregos…”
They begin to reminisce, talking about how Jenna was once a feisty little firecracker who loved to wrestle with other knights, recounting little George’s reckless brave spirit, volunteering to compete in the knight hall’s martial arts competition upon arriving at the church, only to be knocked out in the preliminaries, and sharing memories of their eagerly received first cooperative task, which turned out to be investigating a shopkeeper’s missing clothes on the street.
“…You know? Since that time, I resolved to be together with you. If you still haven’t realized my feelings, I would confess to you directly.”
“Thank you, Jenna; being loved by you makes me very happy.”
“George.” Jenna whispers softly, her eyes a bit hazy, “Close your eyes.”
George complies. The moonlight is enchanting. She gently tiptoes and kisses his lips.
The soft sensation brushes past George’s lips, and the youthful fragrance seeps into his heart.
When George opens his eyes, Jenna has taken a few steps back, laughing bashfully yet not avoiding his gaze.
“Sir George, this kiss is a promise; you must return it to me tomorrow.”
George smiles: “Yes, it’s a promise; I will…”
He does not continue, but suddenly feels an emptiness in his heart, beginning to ache.
—Here, where lips meet is the ritual of the God of Love, I promise to protect you forever.
The next day, in the church, it is a welcoming atmosphere, filled with guests and laughter, friendly toasts exchanged.
The usually austere and abstinent clergy, who regard alcohol as a taboo, have let loose today, raising glasses of red wine to celebrate their brave warrior and the saintess.
As the lively banquet concludes, guests tidy their attire and take their reserved seats in the church.
The nuns below begin to sing, their voices long and gentle, praising the greatness of the God of Dawn, thanking the God of Dawn for the blessings bestowed upon the mortal realm, wishing for the newlyweds entering the hall to form a covenant under the watch of the God of Dawn, obtaining happiness until forever.
The knights start to assemble, forming a line, marching in step, and after the parade, they raise great shields, striking three times, signifying that they wield the spear for you and lift the shield for you, walking side by side, unwavering until death.
After a lengthy and sacred ceremony, the officiating priest announces the entry of the groom and bride into the church.
Finally, the moment arrives. The guests present hold their breath, about to witness the union of the brave warrior and the saintess.
The brave warrior and saintess hold hands, stepping side by side into the church, sunlight pouring over them, blurring their figures and adding a touch of the sacred.
Even the God of Dawn gazes upon this moment; no one doubts it.
Saintess Jenna is dressed in a pure white wedding gown, the lining fits her delicate figure, highlighting her graceful curves. The hem flows down along her waist, the light diffusing on her face as she smiles blissfully and brightly, as if she were an angel descended by the God of Dawn.
The warm and kind gazes from the bishops are upon him, and his companions from the knight hall silently bless him. The guests murmur in admiration.
George smiles, looking at his bride; there is no more perfect conclusion than this.
However, his hand quietly covers his chest; why is it that the happier he becomes at this moment, the emptier he feels inside?
The marriage ceremony is not presided over by Bishop Gregos but by a venerable nun who has devoted her life to the church.
They hold hands and bow to her; the nun nods, smiling with blessings.
Under the grand church dome, the melodious wedding march echoes, and the guests direct their attention toward the couple, silently offering their good wishes.
The nun who has completed the hymns looks at them with a smile, her voice solemn but warm.
“Mr. George, do you take Miss Jenna to be your wife? To care for her, love her, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, to love and respect one another, to never part, forever together?”
George’s gaze is somewhat dreamy; this scene seems to have played out countless times in his mind. However…
“I will,” he answers.
“Miss Jenna, do you…”
“I will.”
In winter, the sunlight is unbelievably brilliant, filtering through the differently colored glass of the church, swirling through the air; Jenna gazes at him, focused and determined.
“Congratulations to you both,” the officiating nun smiles, “As long as you take your eternal vow in the presence of the God of Dawn, the final step will be complete.”
“Now, please repeat after me in your own names: I, Natasha, today in the presence of the God of Dawn…”
“I, Jenna, today in the presence of the God of Dawn…”
An odd feeling of unease wells up inside him.
“I, George, today in the presence of the God of Dawn…”
“In the understanding and blessing of the world…”
—Even if cursed and doubted by the world.
“Walking along the bright path with your beloved…”
—Even if the road ahead is rugged.
“Promising to hold and love each other, forgetting the sadness and pain brought by others, staying away from betrayal and deception, severing ties with outsiders…”
—I promise you; I am someone you can trust with your life.
The peculiar sense of unease grows bigger; an unusual lump rises in his throat, and a nameless impulse begins to spread. His palms gradually clench tighter.
“George?” Seeing he hasn’t followed along, the nun asks, “What’s wrong?”
“I currently… feel very bad. Do you know?” George looks at the nun as if recalling something, his voice low.
“Are you nervous?”
“I’m angry,” his gaze grows increasingly cold, “Why… am I angry? Do you know?”
“Yeah, why would you be angry? Isn’t today a good day?” the nun inquires.
The divine glow overwhelms the figure of the nun.
“How long do you plan to deceive me with this false dream?” George raises his head, “Jima.”
Time seems to freeze. Enthusiastic guests, practicing knights, the officiating bishop, including Jenna, who smiles at him, all come to an abrupt halt, and the palace and hall begin to crumble and fall apart.
The world returns to a gray haze, and George’s gaze drifts up the stairs, extending ever higher, reaching the throne at the top.
“Dearest, this is the last time I deceive you.”
The girl demon king on the throne smirks.
——————
Fanfiction written by author Huoshuyin.
