Chapter 651: The True Identity of Ophelia Norton

Amber had been the “shame of the elves” for quite some time now. Gawain had long since grown accustomed to this guy’s habit of pushing boundaries and veering off course whenever he got the chance. Deep down, he knew that Amber often did this just to lighten the mood.

This half-elf disliked overly serious and oppressive atmospheres, and after Gawain’s recent conversations with Veronica—who was actually Ophelia—he realized things had gotten far too tense and heavy.

The next day, the ancient city of Saint Suniel greeted a new dawn under brilliant sunlight.

The great beast that had been wounded in the war still needed time to heal, but every survivor’s hope gradually rekindled as peace settled over the city. The blockade lines on the plains had closed in, pushing the war far from the city’s gates. Inside, the two guardian dukes had already begun restoring the city’s functions and were gathering nobles, scholars, and merchants to prepare for the declaration of the empire’s founding.

After receiving a group of royal scholars, Gawain returned to the study in Silverkeep.

After a brief wait, steady, purposeful footsteps echoed from the doorway. The tall, sturdy High Patriarch Leight appeared at the entrance. “My lord, you called for me?”

—Although the plan to establish the Cecil Empire had been finalized, Gawain had not yet publicly crowned himself. So, aside from a select few, most of his longtime followers still addressed him by his original title.

Gawain glanced at Leight and then at Leight’s proxy—Emily—who was quietly peeking out from behind him, politely greeting both Amber and Gawain.

“Please, have a seat. I want to discuss some matters regarding the Church of the Holy Light,” Gawain nodded to the High Patriarch’s envoy, then turned to Amber. “Order the guards and attendants not to let anyone disturb us in the study from now on.”

Once Leight settled into the high-backed chair by the desk, Gawain casually powered on the arcane network terminal on the table. While waiting for a connection, he said, “Now that we’ve taken Saint Suniel, the cathedral is effectively under our control. What are your thoughts?”

Leight’s voice was grave. “Given the reality, we cannot violently destroy the Northern Church, nor can we forcibly convert the old believers. But the doctrines of the Northern and Southern Churches are fundamentally opposed. If conditions allow, we should try to reform the Northern Church—starting with control over scriptural interpretation and bishopric authority—so they accept the new doctrine and eventually merge with the Southern Church. If not, we may have to face a long period of division within the Holy Light faith, dedicating significant manpower and resources to maintain balance and prevent conflict from escalating.”

Gawain sized up the robust High Patriarch. “You’re starting to think more like a true religious leader.”

Perhaps it was the position of High Patriarch that broadened his perspective. This former low-ranking priest and White Knight no longer focused solely on preaching and pursuing the Holy Light; he had begun to adopt a more pragmatic, big-picture approach. To Gawain, this was a positive development.

Leight simply smiled, his expression calm and sincere. “Sitting in this seat, I see more. The Holy Light teaches that responsibility must match power and status, so I must consider things from many perspectives. Honestly, I’m still not very good at handling these matters… I owe thanks to Seventree and a few other clerics for their help.”

“Seventree… the progressive clerics from Luan City, right?” Gawain thought for a moment, recalling the name. “How are they adapting to the new doctrine?”

“They’re adapting well. At first, they could only carry a load for three kilometers. Now Seventree can punch a bear to death after carrying five kilometers.”

Gawain blinked in confusion.

Leight suddenly laughed. “They’re clerics, not warriors—they don’t need to train like fighters. They’ve embraced the new doctrine and are trying to rediscover their own path of the Holy Light. After accepting the new teachings, the progressive clerics and priests in Luan City have experienced varying degrees of decline in their Holy Light power. But the presence of the White Knights has inspired their faith; unlike me, they haven’t lost all their Holy Light. I believe their decline is temporary. One day, they will find their way again.”

Gawain’s expression relaxed. He was surprised to hear Leight joke like this—given Leight’s rugged demeanor and the White Knights’ unusual selection criteria, even within the Cecil Legion, it was common to joke that Southern priests were chosen based on whether they could kill a bear. Apparently, this joke had reached the High Patriarch’s ears, and he seemed to enjoy it.

Beyond surprise, Gawain confirmed something else: the clergy in the south had indeed suffered varying degrees of power loss due to shaken faith and abandonment of the Holy Light deity. Yet, thanks to the White Knights, their decline hadn’t bottomed out like Leight’s own experience.

This might hint at some properties of the “Soulsteel Seal.”

It originates from the human heart and acts upon it, but it can also be influenced by the surrounding environment and the collective.

Of course, it’s also possible that the southern clergy hadn’t completely lost reverence for the Holy Light deity, unlike Leight’s total despair. That lingering respect might have prevented their powers from fully fading.

In any case, the Soulsteel Seal’s effects require long-term observation and testing. Gawain wasn’t in a hurry.

Suddenly, the arcane terminal on the desk buzzed, and a shimmering projection crystal materialized a hologram.

Kamail’s figure appeared before Gawain and Leight.

The ancient mage bowed slightly in greeting.

“Good, everyone’s here,” Gawain nodded, then cut to the chase. “I’ve called you both because of a matter involving both the Church of the Holy Light and the ancient kingdom of Gondor.”

“Both the contemporary church and the ancient empire?” Kamail’s voice betrayed his curiosity. “What’s happened?”

Gawain said calmly, “Ophelia Norton. Do you know the name?”

Kamail’s expression flickered with surprise for a moment before he spoke. “Yes, of course. Not only have I heard of her, I’ve met her. Princess Ophelia was a member of the ancient Gondor royal family. She was an exceptionally gifted mage and personally responsible for part of the Rebellion Project… Why bring up her name now? Princess Ophelia, as one of the Rebellion’s executors, was not politically active. There should be few historical records of her. She lived three hundred years before your time and a thousand years before the present…”

Gawain’s face darkened, his heart stirred.

A member of the ancient Gondor royal family, one of the highest leaders of the Rebellion Project!!

The Rebellion Project was the most secretive plan of the Starfire Era Gondor Empire, controlled from the start by the royal family. So when Gawain heard the surname Norton, he had already suspected her identity. But hearing confirmation from a genuine ancient was still a shock.

“She now goes by Veronica Morn,” he exhaled softly, startling Kamail and Leight with the revelation. “She’s inside the Holy Light Cathedral and plans to announce the martyrdom of the pope and the entire bishopric in three hours.”

“The Holy Light…” Leight’s face showed shock so profound he didn’t immediately realize that this was a devastating blow to the Northern Church—a piece of good news for the Southern Church. Emily, hovering behind him, even sensed the surge of Holy Light around Leight. The young girl quickly vanished, then cautiously peeked out from the ripples of light, scanning the surroundings.

Kamail’s entire form flushed a deep purple-red—a sign of extreme astonishment. “Is this information reliable? Where did you get it?”

“She told me herself and accurately recounted your background and the Rebellion Project,” Gawain said, briefly recounting his experience in the cathedral the previous night, the cooperation request from the so-called “Ophelia Norton” rebel, and his own speculations. “I believe there’s a larger truth behind her. The remnants of the Rebellion Project may be more extensive than we imagine. She used ‘we’ to refer to herself, which might mean the original Ophelia Norton has split into multiple souls through some ancient magic, and Veronica Morn is just one of those temporary vessels.”

“That’s a plausible theory…” Kamail pondered, then cautiously advised, “I suggest you treat this rebel with great caution. Even if her identity is genuine, you must remain vigilant and keep your distance. Do not trust her lightly.”

Gawain glanced at Kamail. “I thought, as a fellow rebel, you might feel some kinship or trust toward the ‘princess,’ since in a way, she was your former superior.”

“I do have some initial trust and fondness for Princess Ophelia as a fellow rebel,” Kamail buzzed, “but first and foremost, I am your advisor and scholar. I must warn you of potential risks—especially since they could be significant.”

“Tell me your concerns.”

“The Rebellion Project is the most extreme and audacious plan since the dawn of humanity. The rebels are extremists who seek to ensure humanity’s survival by stealing, twisting, or even controlling divine power. Paranoia, extremism, and recklessness are their hallmarks. Our goals are noble and our resolve firm, and our original intentions were good. But over the long centuries, human stubbornness easily distorts these good qualities,” Kamail explained. “If, as you say, Princess Ophelia has lived for a thousand years—seven hundred of which were after Gondor’s fall—and has spent that time as a parasitic soul in human realms, then this long, alien existence must have profoundly affected her…”

He paused, his tone grave. “I dare not imagine what a person becomes after a millennium like that. She might be a saint transcending mortal will—or more likely, a madwoman.”

Gawain stroked his chin thoughtfully. “You’ve also lived a thousand years, under even harsher conditions—you were trapped in the Shadow Realm fortress.”

“Yes, and you surely remember I was half-mad at times,” Kamail said. “My body has been reshaped into a spirit form, no longer subject to the nervous signals and hormones of flesh. In a way, my mental state has semi-solidified, making me more resilient than a mortal. Princess Ophelia, however, has inhabited many different flesh bodies. It’s hard to say how her mind has changed over the centuries.”

“So, do you reject the idea of cooperating with Ophelia?”

“…It’s not entirely like that,” Kamail shifted his tone. “Her cooperation is still incredibly valuable—not just because she now controls the grand cathedral of Saint Suniel, but because she holds knowledge we don’t have. We also need to understand, through her, how the Church of the Holy Light has changed over all these years, and what exactly she intends to accomplish using the Church’s influence. I’m simply offering you my advice, laying out all the risks for your consideration.”

Gawain nodded slightly, then turned to Leight.

“What’s your take?”

After a moment of reflection, Leight met Gawain’s gaze and said in a low voice, “…I believe we can work with her, my lord.”

(End of chapter)