Chapter 73: The Mother-Daughter Rift

—Cocolia’s departure was not publicly announced. Most people still believed she was in Qlipoth Fort, and the Architects, having been warned by her, dared not act rashly.

Beyond the political maneuvering, there was also a sense of wariness toward the unknown.
Now, she was gradually realizing that Belobog seemed to have “come back to life.” Though describing it this way made it seem as if Belobog had been a dying city not long ago.

But in truth, this description wasn’t far off.
As the ruler of all of Belobog, Cocolia could naturally sense the dissonance emanating from the city.

In the past, Belobog had been sick, terminally ill, with no cure in sight. The overall atmosphere had always been bleak and melancholic.
But now, the streets were always filled with a breeze, as if trying to blow away the gloom that had settled over people’s hearts, omnipresent and unceasing.

The people were no longer numb and indifferent but had quickly come together in the face of an unprecedented crisis, warming each other’s hearts.
And the source of all this, or rather, the catalyst for this change…

Cocolia looked down at the personnel file in her hand.
The name on it was Venti.

It not only recorded the areas and times of his activities but also detailed who he had met and what he had done, as thoroughly as possible.
Among these records was a sighting report of him appearing together with Bronya in the Outlying Snow Plains.

Moreover, not long ago, she had reviewed a request from the Technology Department for the promotion of new equipment.
The timing of this new technology, which significantly improved the survival rate of the Silvermane Guards, was too coincidental, making it hard not to suspect that someone was behind it.

Following the trail, it was indeed tied to those Architect families. Otherwise, how could it have been approved so smoothly all the way up to her?
This also reminded Cocolia of the information she should have noticed earlier but had overlooked due to her disdain.

Then, while investigating the technical archives—
She also discovered that the designer’s name in the technology file was blank, but the provider was listed as “Venti” and “Serval Landau.”

These connected names immediately made Cocolia realize that Serval had played a trick right under her nose and had succeeded.
By exploiting her personality, Serval had led her to see Venti as a caged bird, a toy for Bronya to amuse herself with, so that Cocolia wouldn’t interfere too much, giving Serval the space to manipulate the situation.

Now that she thought about it, after that sighting report in the Outlying Snow Plains, Bronya had openly expressed her dissatisfaction with her.
And from that moment on, Bronya had gradually started to ignore her commands, even outright pretending not to see them.

The letters sent back were all filled with self-righteous advice.
Clearly, their acquaintance wasn’t something that had just happened recently. These coincidences were all part of a premeditated plan.

A despicable conspiracy to use her daughter Bronya as a weapon to overthrow the current regime.
They thought that by securing Bronya, they were invincible, and had begun to test her limits, wanting to see her suffer because of these things, as a form of revenge.

These damned clowns…
If it weren’t too early, Cocolia would have loved to tell Bronya the truth about the Stellaron and the deal she had made with it.

If she did, all of this would be in vain. She believed that Bronya would ultimately choose to trust her, to trust the mother who had always been by her side.
But she couldn’t—

Bronya was still too green, too naive. Her worldview was still confined within the narrow walls of the city, leaving her blind to the deception around her.
She had never truly looked at the world, never once freed herself from the cage of being the heir to the Guardians.

In this world where the twilight was fading and darkness was spreading, they, the so-called Guardians, were nothing but fuel destined to burn out.
They were the embers of humanity, placed on the fire by endlessly expanding public opinion, burning to warm themselves.

She had sat in this position for too long and had always believed her convictions to be unshakable. But how laughable it was… that a single unexpected variable had thrown everything into disarray.
To this day, she could still remember the first time the voice of the Stellaron had echoed in her ears. Like all the previous Guardians before her, she had chosen to close her ears and eyes, stubbornly clinging to the Architects’ so-called “Preservation”…

But that elusive, increasingly distant “Preservation” had long since abandoned the faith of the people.
Even after the unwavering convictions of over a dozen generations of Guardians, they had never received so much as a glance from it.

Those great beings in the stars had never truly turned their gaze upon the small and insignificant humans.
If that was the case, why should they stubbornly cling to Preservation, only to welcome an inevitable demise?

The people’s attempts, efforts, and struggles, believing that the shining light of humanity would surely lead them to revival—
What had it all amounted to? Only failure after failure, losing what little living space they had left.

Did she really have to wait until Bronya became the Guardian of a single street, or a single castle, before she regretted it?
She absolutely could not tolerate such a thing, nor would she allow Bronya to live in such an ugly state.

Rather than closing her eyes and ears in the face of such an irresistible force, it was better to immerse herself in it and feel that shared will.
Yes, the Stellaron was something so real, something that had truly given people “hope.”

Even now, they were still willing to grant miracles—
That promise was so sweet, something that no one truly in her position could refuse.

A world without poverty, cold, or pain; a world where people no longer had to beg for survival like prisoners; a world where the Guardians did not have to wither away on this tomb.
For the sake of this, Cocolia was willing to sacrifice anything.

From abandoning the lower district under the banner of righteousness, to sending the Silvermane Guards to risk their lives, constantly filling the frontlines with bodies.
She had continuously sacrificed what she once held dear, causing people to see her as a cold-blooded tyrant, from having some room to maneuver to having no way back.

Cocolia firmly believed that what she was doing was wrong in the eyes of small morals, but in the grand scheme of saving humanity, saving the world, she was merely the first to awaken and make the right choice.
Everything was for the sake of that new world.

Naturally, the heavy burden that came with this was not something Bronya, in her current state, could bear.
This was precisely why Cocolia had been so careful to keep it hidden from her. She didn’t want Bronya to suffer unnecessary guilt. As a leader, having to sacrifice a portion of her people to secure a ticket to the new world was, of course, a painful thing.

But those who were sacrificed did not die in vain. Wouldn’t it be worth celebrating that they could be reborn in the cradle of the new world?
As for those who delusionally try to stop this process, even those who attempt to steer the world back onto the path of destruction—

Cocolia clenched the documents in her hand tightly. The portrait on it was a “sparkling” idol-style drawing of Venti, personally hand-drawn by Intelligence Officer Pelageya.
“…You are the ones who make their sacrifices meaningless. You will even cause more people to be swept away by the tides of the old era…”

The documents were crumpled, and the smile on the portrait seemed distorted, as if mocking her.
“I will not let you off, nor will I allow such villains to taint the purity of the new world.

You only deserve to perish with the old era, swept into the dustbin of the forgotten.”
Cocolia’s gaze, under the dim car light, appeared even more gloomy and cold.

The driver in the front seat blinked dazedly, not hearing Cocolia’s mutterings. He only felt that the journey had passed quickly, and the car’s temperature regulator seemed to be broken, as his hands were trembling from the cold.
Fortunately, they had arrived at their destination.

He skillfully turned the steering wheel and stepped on the brake, the tires screeching against the dry ground.
They came to a stop in front of a steel gate three people high, where two Silvermane Guards on duty approached.

The driver rolled down the window, revealing Cocolia sitting in the back seat. She glared coldly and sternly at the two who had come to inspect.
One of them, seemingly new, exclaimed in surprise.

“G-Guardian?!”
“Silence! No noise in the presence of the Guardian.”

The more experienced guard quickly stopped his companion’s impolite behavior and repeatedly apologized to Cocolia.
“We deeply apologize. We had not received any notification of your arrival for inspection. We will open the gate for you immediately—”

He didn’t even bother with further checks, quickly pulling the new recruit aside and operating the gate mechanism. With the sound of gears meshing, the steel gate slowly opened.
The geomarrow vehicle then moved forward, heading into the camp.

The new recruit finally reacted, asking cautiously, “Uh… Senior, isn’t it against the rules set by Commander Bronya to just let them through like this?”
“What rules? In Belobog, the Guardian is the highest rule—”

The experienced guard glanced at him, then closed the gate as if nothing had happened and resumed his post.
This left the new recruit feeling uneasy. After hesitating for a while, he spoke up again.

“Senior… I think I saw something strange earlier.”
“—You talk too much, recruit. Are you trying to cause trouble for yourself?”

The veteran guard shot him a look, though the recruit couldn’t see it through the helmet. The impatient tone was still quite intimidating.
“What is it? Spit it out, then shut up and stand guard properly.”

“Y-Yes! Earlier, I thought I saw something like blue crystals on the Guardian’s arm.”
The recruit paused, then demonstrated with his own left arm.

“Around here. It was a bit dark, so I’m not sure if I mistook it for geomarrow crystals…”
The veteran guard fell silent for a moment before replying.

“That’s just a high-purity geomarrow crystal decoration—”
“Huh?”

“Don’t ask questions. Forget it, and don’t bring it up again. I’ll pretend you never mentioned it to me. Understood?”
The veteran’s tone was unusually stern.

“O-Okay… But why?”
The young soldier couldn’t help but ask.

“For your own safety, that’s all.”
After giving this answer, the veteran said nothing more, silently standing guard like a statue in the winter cold.

The recruit, now thoroughly intimidated, stopped talking and tried his best not to dwell on it, as his senior had advised.
But the more he tried not to think about it, the more the image stuck in his mind.

Those blue crystals, encasing her arm like an eggshell—were they really just decorations?
He had seen Commander Gepard’s armguards before. Typically, geomarrow crystals used as energy sources were integrated into the equipment itself, not directly attached to the body.

Other geomarrow crystal decorations also followed this rule. Only children would pick up a piece of geomarrow, drill a hole in it, and wear it on a string.
But in that brief glimpse earlier, he hadn’t seen any device—just blue crystals curving along her forearm like scales.

Rather than pure, translucent geomarrow crystals, they looked more like…
—The ice crystals on the bodies of Fragmentum monsters.

The moment this thought crossed his mind, the recruit shuddered violently and quickly pushed the idea out of his head.
He glanced nervously at his senior, who remained as taciturn as ever. What he once found cold and indifferent now felt like a lifeline, and he was grateful for it.

The recruit silently closed his mouth and stood even straighter. The veteran guard withdrew his probing gaze, a faint sigh echoing in his heart.
Even a rookie could sense the problem—how could he not have noticed?

But to survive here, one had to follow certain unwritten rules.
And Cocolia, the Guardian, was the biggest, most unspoken rule in Belobog.

—Center of the Restricted Zone.
A group of Silvermane Guard officers exchanged uneasy glances. At the forefront, Lieutenant Dunn looked at the tent with a guilty expression.

Yet, no one dared to voice any objections. Only oppressive silence filled the air, causing everyone’s hearts to ache.
Inside the tent, Bronya pursed her lips, staring at Cocolia, who had entered and hadn’t said a word since.

She stood proudly before Bronya, like the queen of this snowy land, looking down upon her subjects.
Finally, Bronya decided to take the initiative and speak first.

“…Guardian. If you have no business here, please return to Qlipoth Fort. The people of Belobog cannot afford to take on more risks at a time like this.”
“Risks? What risks? The threat of the dragon’s invasion, leaving the city without leadership, or—me walking into the Silvermane Guard’s restricted zone, where I could be knocked out at any moment, stuffed into a military crate, and thrown off a cliff outside the city overnight?”

Cocolia’s cold purple eyes showed no emotion, but her tone was aggressive.
“Or is it wrong for me to come in person, replacing the useless steward, to ask my dearest daughter why she refuses to return?”

“…You don’t need to hurt me with such words. This has nothing to do with Sebastian. He has done all he could. My decision to stay is entirely my own.”
Bronya shook her head, her expression no longer fearful but calm and composed.

“Your own decision? Abandoning your mother and choosing to stay here, pointlessly throwing your life away with others—is that your decision?”
“Pointlessly… throwing my life away? I cannot let such words go unchallenged. Guardian, I demand you retract that statement—!”

The silver-haired girl slammed her hands on the table and stood up, her eyes filled with palpable dissatisfaction.
“Enough! I’ve indulged you for too long, but the situation has changed. We can’t keep playing house like we used to!”

Cocolia, unable to tolerate this any longer, finally roared.
“If you continue to be so stubborn, don’t blame me for revoking your authority as acting commander of the Silvermane Guards and dragging you back to Qlipoth Fort myself—!”

Faced with such a near-breaking-point reprimand, Bronya’s expression was pained.
“You… feel like a stranger to me. My mother would never treat the sacrifices of others so lightly, nor force her will upon others like a tyrant.”

“A tyrant? You… call me a tyrant?”
Cocolia’s icy eyes finally showed a ripple of emotion.

The anger that had been smoldering in her heart finally reached its peak—
She raised her hand and brought it down hard.

A loud slap echoed through the tent.
Bronya held her stinging cheek, her expression a mix of disbelief and sorrow, looking at her mother with eyes that could never return to the past.

At this moment, Cocolia also came to her senses, staring blankly at her still-outstretched hand.
She instinctively felt a pang of panic and wanted to apologize to her daughter for what she had done, but what she actually did was—

Issue a cold, emotionless command.
“Wipe away those weak tears and pull yourself together!”

This was perhaps the worst possible response in such a situation.