I Was The Hero, But I Woke Up as a Phoenix Princess! – Chapter 511

Chapter 511
White fingertips lightly traced the sword’s edge, its immaculate blade rippling with white light. The touch wasn’t of metal or wood, but like that of clear crystal jade.
“This is… the Sacred Sword?”
A sweet and melodious maiden’s voice, like a nightingale’s song, seemed imbued with a pure divine power like radiant jade.
This was an undeniable answer. Even though she had only glimpsed the legendary Sacred Sword before the Sea of Flames, how could she forget such a divine artifact created by the world?
Her jade-like hand stroked the surface of the Sacred Sword.
However, Verafia felt no excitement or emotion from that time. Her golden eyes, as brilliant as stars, remained as calm and gentle as water, possessing a transcendence over all things.
In her eyes, this sword held no legends of saving the world, no holy halos of religion; it was merely her lost possession from the past, the sharp blade of vengeance now returned.
Verafia’s gaze shifted slightly, landing on William’s face. She spoke with a clear voice:
“You brought the Sacred Sword as promised. However, this is Lancaster’s weapon. To obtain it, I am curious, how many allies do you have in this royal city of Peka, and even in the royal palace?”
Verafia was no stranger to William before her.
During her half-year with Lichen, she had collaborated significantly with this young man from the Orc Royal Court and knew that behind him lay a dense darkness. Thus, most of her communication with him, including her request for the Sacred Sword, was conducted through William.
“Goddess Princess, you flatter me.”
The golden-haired youth offered a humble smile and bowed slightly in greeting:
“I am merely a traveler from a foreign land, lacking the talent to build such a powerful force in this great city. However, the number of conspirators is not something I can decide; it only depends on how many people in this city wish to overthrow that great King of Sacred Swords…”
Verafia’s clear gaze fell upon his face. The golden-haired youth raised his face and smiled slightly, saying:
“Indeed, such cooperation does not require a common goal, only common interests… Goddess Princess, you yourself, as noble as you are, are not also joining hands with us?”
“That logic… indeed.”
Verafia chuckled softly before raising her beautiful golden eyes, like burning stars.
Her and William’s only common goal was to defeat Lancaster, who currently occupied the throne of Peka. As for the other’s true objective, she did not know, nor did she intend to ask.
Even though he was of royal blood from the Orc Royal Court, what William truly intended to do in the human royal city… Verafia was indifferent to such matters at present.
“I am taking the Sacred Sword,” Verafia stated, preparing to turn and leave.
“Princess Verafia, please wait.”
William’s voice rang out, “Regarding the Sacred Sword and Lancaster, I have something more to tell you.”
“Goddess Princess, this sword was originally discovered in your territory. The person who obtained it at that time was not Lancaster, but the true hero prophesied in legends, Lothel.”
“It is rumored that this hero was killed by Lancaster, who then seized the Sacred Sword. However, he was also able to wield the Sacred Sword, even defeating the Demon King in the Queen’s war, and with immense prestige, became the current Sacred Sword King.”
Her long eyelashes fluttered as Verafia recalled the events of that year:
In the land consumed by flames, as she reached for the world-saving Sacred Sword, Lancaster, the shield she had once trusted most, thrust a sword of ultimate light from behind her, piercing her chest…
And in her final glimpse, she saw Lancaster and herself, their severed arms fusing into one.
Verafia tilted her head slightly, “What you say, I have seen before.”
“Goddess, there is one more thing!”
William shouted from behind the maiden, but she did not stop. With a light step, she landed and her exquisitely beautiful figure quickly vanished into the night.
William watched the maiden’s disappearing form and couldn’t help but shake his head and smile wryly.
As she departed, the tranquil atmosphere of the entire world gradually faded. The wind that blew carried the scent of blood from the battle between the royal guards and the attackers.
A smile suddenly appeared on William’s face as he licked his lips, “Heh… these self-righteous humans will also face such a day. Such matters are brought about by their own hands.”
William scoffed. Whether this war ended in victory or defeat, it was foreseeable that the human world would inevitably fall into unprecedented turmoil since the Demon Race War.
However, the laughable part was that even though he was an outsider from the Orcs, the ones truly fanning the flames and instigating this war were humans, just like Lancaster.
“Boss, that woman just now was truly ungrateful, daring to treat you like that!”
A figure rushed before William and exclaimed indignantly. Although the figure was not the white-haired young man from before, his face still bore a resemblance to Siegfried from that time.
“It’s nothing. After all, she is the noble Goddess of Flame… such pride is only natural.”
William smiled and shook his head, “However, Siegfried, you have traveled thousands of miles to this human royal city… Now, it’s time to do what we need to do.”
His golden hair, as if cast from gold, was stirred by the wind. William clenched his fist, his pupils ignited with the flames of revenge:
“Since that war, our situation has worsened day by day… Not only was our ancestral land taken by that butcher of magic, but our people were reduced to slaves of these detestable humans… even the prophet’s soul is suppressed by this King of Sacred Swords.”
The youth’s upturned face reflected the light of flames. William turned around and suddenly chuckled, “Heh heh.”
“Now, this King of Sacred Swords is being dealt with by that noble Goddess. His subordinates are likely unable to spare any attention at this moment. Heh, Siegfried, now it’s our turn to welcome back the prophet… and let the world feel the wrath of the Royal Court once more!”
—
Igelt walked alone in the night.
After his conversation with the King, he did not leave the royal palace. Instead, he was kept within the court. With no choice, his only response was to continue in silence.
However, the commotion that suddenly erupted in the royal palace in the middle of the night drew away all the knights, guards, and mages, giving him an opportunity to leave the palace.
Igelt did not intend to deliberately escape the royal palace. Instead, it was more like his suppressed state of mind prompted him to leave for a stroll. If the royal attendants found him at this time, he would not refuse and would return with them.
A submissive state of mind… or rather, a state of avoiding thought and concern, passively being pushed by others, indifferent to gains or losses.
“Indifferent…?”
Igelt thought to himself. Tomorrow would be Lichen’s annual Iris Festival, the city known as the “City of White Irises.” It would also be his wedding ceremony with Misaela, as ordered by the King.
Surprisingly, his feelings regarding tomorrow’s wedding were neither nervousness nor anticipation, nor fear or resistance. He was in a state of utter apathy, like a broken toy.
This was not because he had no feelings for Misaela, nor… was it because he had no thoughts of Verafia. Rather, it was as if he were a puppet, walking on the path laid out by those above him.
It was as if he were sinking into a deep mire, struggling with all his might, only to find himself unable to exert any force.
A puppet, and a chess piece…
Igelt let out a silent laugh.
The night wind blew, and Igelt raised his gaze. A pure white iris petal drifted by. Igelt reached out to touch it, but it silently floated past his eyes.
Igelt remembered his promise to the maiden: to take her to Lichen’s Iris Festival…
A trace of memory flashed in his azure eyes, but it was immediately masked by a sense of loneliness.
Even for the girl he deeply cherished…
Although she did not treat him with complete indifference or heartlessness, the maiden also had her own duties to attend to…
He suddenly shook his head again.
“Young Lady, in order for me to obtain the divinity of flame, is this what I must do now?”
The attack on the royal palace once again tonight was undoubtedly to seize the Sacred Sword itself, which was suppressed within the world of the Star God… and their actions were immensely successful.
Igelt glanced at the sky.
Within the night, the darkness representing the dimension of the Star God world began to encroach again. Even with the residual light of the Sacred Sword, and even with Lancaster’s own suppression, without the power of the Sacred Sword, it was only a matter of time before this Star God would break free.
This would signify a disaster for Lichen, and indeed the entire Peka Kingdom…
“But, if the person who obtained the Sacred Sword is Veer…”
Although he did not know what Verafia intended to do, her target was most likely Lancaster.
A silent stillness spread within him.
Verafia was the princess of flame, a noble goddess… In her eyes, humans might be no more than insignificant insects.
Perhaps he was a slightly special case, but that did not mean she would harbor the same feelings for others.
Igelt was almost certain that if her target was indeed Lancaster, the King of Peka, the maiden would not care if her actions turned the entire city into hell.
This was something he absolutely did not wish to see… yet, he had not the slightest power to change it.
A struggling, conflicted state of mind. And then there was Misaela, a girl who loved him deeply, and whose sacrifices for him he could not repay…
He was reminded again that tomorrow was his wedding with Misaela… but he had a feeling that it might also be the time to bid a complete farewell to a girl like Verafia, as cute yet possessing a delicate heart.
A sense of helplessness and contradiction instinctively made him try to escape.
Igelt smiled silently.
At this moment, a gust of black wind swept past him. Igelt instinctively raised his head.
However, his slow reaction meant he made no defense at this crucial moment.
Terrifying, pitch-black demonic power poured out, like a raging torrent, slamming heavily onto his chest.
Igelt grunted, his body sent flying back over ten meters, half-kneeling on the ground. Suddenly, a large hand formed from demonic power tightly gripped his throat.
“To think I would encounter Lancaster’s heir here…”
The approaching figure, concealed beneath his cloak, spoke with a low, hoarse voice.