Chapter 35: The Bell of Dawn
Isabella tilted her head slightly, thought for a moment, and gave her answer:
“Your Highness, I have studied this to some extent.”
“My father hired a private tutor for me, and I often browsed through the family library as well.”
Hearing this response, Sylvia nodded somewhat disappointedly.
Then, she noticed that Isabella seemed to be looking at her eyes with a curious gaze.
“What is it?”
She leaned back against the chair and asked leisurely.
“Your eyes, they seem…”
Isabella struggled to find the right words.
At this moment, Sylvia’s eyes were no longer the same.
Her left eye, which had previously temporarily held the divinity of the God of Death, had returned to its original state—its purple hue now appeared “clear.”
However, her right eye appeared somewhat murky and displayed a near-black shade of purple.
Not only that, but in what should have been the whites of her eyes, there were now deep purple patterns. Upon close inspection, one could see that these patterns were composed of various symbolic marks.
“This?”
Sylvia smiled and pointed to her right eye.
“Mm… that’s not my original eye. I replaced it with a different one.”
The eyeball, which now no longer looked out of place, was the very Right Eye of the Gloomy Moon. After being refined and resized, it had been substituted in.
Thankfully, none of the intricate details had been accidentally worn away.
That was the first thought that surfaced in her mind upon seeing the result.
At the same time, she felt the bond between herself and this divine relic grow stronger.
The breath of death and rebirth that flowed within it seemed to have become part of her own body.
And after completing the replacement, she suddenly had a strange thought—
Since her current vessel was a puppet body, could she replace some of her parts with body materials from others? For example, swap out her left eye as well.
It seemed plausible? She would just need to pay attention to overall aesthetics. Turning herself into a monster was not the outcome she desired.
Returning to the present, a peculiar smile appeared on Sylvia’s face.
“This eyeball is a relic of the Ancient Moon God, containing the power of birth and death.”
“Based on that power, I developed it slightly…”
“Though the result is a bit odd, I believe this spell can convey the joy of rebirth.”
“But unfortunately, to achieve the perfect effect I envisioned, it still requires some authority from the domain of life. And my ‘Lust’ authority isn’t compatible with it, so the final outcome wasn’t ideal.”
“Perhaps it involves the domain of the Earth Mother God.”
“So, would you like to try out this early version?”
Sylvia fixed her gaze on Isabella, her smile growing increasingly eerie.
The blonde girl tilted her head curiously, just about to respond, when she noticed Lakdevo, crouched on Sylvia’s shoulder, frantically signaling to her with his eyes.
Combining that with her Highness’s clearly mischievous expression, she ultimately shook her head.
“Tsk, a wise choice.”
Sylvia’s smile gradually returned to normal.
“Actually, I was just joking. Even if you had agreed, I would have declined.”
“After all, its effect is… well, kind of grotesque.”
Hearing this unfamiliar descriptor, Isabella nodded slightly in confusion.
…
Night had fallen, and the wall lamps inside the house were gradually lit.
At that moment, a knock came at the door, and the maid Maria’s voice sounded from outside:
“Young Miss, it’s time for dinner.”
“All right.”
Isabella, who was flipping through a currently popular novel, responded, then turned her eyes to Sylvia with a questioning look:
“Your Highness, would you like to join me?”
“Mm… Clade has already left.”
She added another sentence.
“No need.”
Sylvia opened her eyes and shook her head:
“I am merely a puppet now, I do not need to eat.”
“Besides, I no longer have the necessary organs.”
“Understood.”
Isabella nodded obediently, then got out of bed and left the room.
After the door closed, Sylvia clearly heard a conversation from outside:
“Young Miss, allow me to help you downstairs.”
“No, I believe I can manage it myself now.”
As the corners of her lips lifted slightly, Sylvia decided to rest a while as well.
Earlier, her consciousness had ascended into the Spiritual Realm, where she was envisioning the weaving and construction of extraordinary powers.
“Master, your body holds certain secrets…”
At that moment, Lakdevo’s hesitant voice sounded.
“Mm?”
Sylvia, who had walked over from her seat to the bedside, gave a soft grunt, signaling for him to continue.
“In my view, your body was crafted by a Puppeteer.”
“A true Puppeteer, one of the thirty-two extraordinary paths.”
“And not a low-level one, either.”
Hearing this, Sylvia nodded in agreement.
Seeing this, Lakdevo continued:
“I believe that a Puppeteer of this level could absolutely create a body identical to that of a living person. But for some reason, she chose not to do so, keeping the traits of a puppet and omitting any unnecessary organs.”
Sylvia stroked her chin, gazing out the window at the gas street lamps being gradually lit, and offered her thoughts:
“I think this might have something to do with Ms. Tuya’s beliefs.”
‘A puppet is a puppet’—that was something she had once written in a journal article.
At the same time, Sylvia added silently in her heart: fortunately, I’m only a puppet.
Hearing Sylvia’s answer, Lakdevo nodded thoughtfully.
Dinner time passed quickly, and Isabella returned upstairs with a smile.
After exchanging a few casual words, the two of them, plus the crow, went back to doing their own things. Until little Isabella fell asleep, her brother Clade did not return.
Standing in the narrow gap between the curtain and the glass, Sylvia gazed in the direction of St. Ruls Cathedral, a suspicion flashing through her mind:
Could that brat still be over there?
…
December 24, Saturday.
A pale white light was just emerging on the horizon; the sun had not yet risen.
Seated in her chair, Sylvia suddenly opened her eyes—her spirituality was frantically sounding an alarm!
What’s going on?
That thought flashed through her mind as her gaze pierced through the wall toward the source of the alert.
The East!
There… was—
St. Ruls Cathedral!
At that moment—
“Dong…”
“Dong…”
“Dong…”
“……”
The holy and ethereal sound of a bell surged through the City of Alova like a tide. Beams of dazzling, sacred white light spread out with it!
At the same time, a gentle voice intertwined with the holy light and the chimes—
“Praise be! Lord of Radiance!”
“You are the eternal Creator, the majestic being who transcends the world, the pure light that shines above all things!”
At this moment, Sylvia’s expression turned extremely grim, and a deep purple radiance enveloped her body.
Then, Lakdevo’s slightly awed voice echoed in the room:
“As expected, just as that knight said, the angel who arrived in Alova is that one.”
Receiving no reply, the Ferryman atop the River of the Dead continued on his own:
“The Angel of the Sword, Her Grace Aksia.”
“She tolls for this world—”
“The Bell of Dawn!”