Did Eliadeos know about the Tower of Babel?

Yes, long ago, even before Nidhogg.

Because the Tower of Babel didn’t just recently come to light. In fact, this had been happening for months. The reason it only surfaced now was that the Tower of Babel’s keepers had been repeatedly verifying and debating the light’s nature. Matters involving deities demanded utmost caution—they feared deception, feared opportunists exploiting the situation, and most of all, feared causing a mass panic over nothing.

The Tower of Babel had collapsed years ago, leaving only partial ruins. And being divine creations, ordinary people have no idea where to begin with repairs. As time passed, many of the tower keepers, whose duties were passed down through generations, began questioning what exactly they were guarding and whether such guardianship held any meaning.

Of course, they no longer question or feel lost. All now prostrate themselves beneath the ruins in devout prayer, quietly awaiting the deities’ return.

During the lengthy verification process undertaken by the tower guardians, they secretly enlisted numerous contemporary masters to identify the ruins. Among them was Alfonso XIV, the former Pope of the Church of Light.

However, the Pope was gravely ill at the time and mired in the Church’s internal strife, so the task ultimately fell to Saint Madeline.

Saint Madeline was a true saint in every sense—kind to others and devoted to the light. Of course, it might also be because, after having a daughter herself, she couldn’t help but feel compassion for children of the same age. In any case, after confirming the divine nature of the Tower of Babel’s light was not some deliberate deception; she subtly hinted to the Lich Savvy that the situation concerning the Holy Child, Eli, would likely soon improve. She urged him to persevere, assuring him that things would change very soon.

The Saint’s words were tactful, her true intention merely to alleviate the young Holy Child’s fearful circumstances. She could never have imagined that this unconventional Lich would turn around and spill everything to his own disciple.

For in the Lich’s mind, there was no concept of what couldn’t be shared with a child. He never hesitated to lay society’s dark realities before his disciple, even dissecting and explaining the current state of affairs to Eliadeos in meticulous detail. He wove in intelligence gathered from other gray channels and his own strongly subjective deductions.

He said, “…I’m not sure if formally returning to the Holy See will be a good thing or a bad thing for you.”

Materially, there would undoubtedly be a quantum leap. It wasn’t that the Lich King had raised the child in any particularly frugal manner—the old Pope had arranged a life of considerable affluence for them within the Federation, and he wasn’t one to skimp on such matters. Rather, it was the stark shift in social standing. Take, for instance, Elaedios’s biological father, who had been so eager to cut ties back then—he’d probably regret it bitterly now.

But spiritually… The old man let out a deep sigh, a rare display of human emotion on that skull-like face.

Judging by his shallow experience as the Supreme Lich, possessing supreme power did not guarantee carefree happiness. On the contrary, power only alienated people—both those close to him and those around him—revealing the most greedy and ugly aspects of human nature.

At least that was how Savvy had felt back then. All that bullshit power-grabbing had cost him precious research time. Even if the Lich now suddenly reformed, revoked the warrant, and respectfully invited him back as Supreme Lich, he’d likely just choose to distance himself further from that bunch of fools.“That future would inevitably appear resplendent, yet be fraught with hardship and trouble.”

For this youngest disciple he had ever mentored, Lich Savvy felt something different. Before that predestined future arrived, he wanted to take Eliadeos to live a carefree life, far from the clamor of the world. It would be like granting this ill-fated child one last, lighthearted vacation.

It was at this moment that the young Saint Son mentioned, “What about Helheim?”

In other words, even without Byron’s “kidnapping” of the Lich, this old codger had already resolved to leverage his connections and discuss the matter’s feasibility with his dragon friends.

The Lich assumed his young disciple’s curiosity stemmed from hearing too many tales of ancient dragon companionship from his uncle Job, who had visited before.

But Eliadeos had merely glimpsed, through the haze of that conversation between his master and the dragon, the possibility of a broader future.

Compared to Esther, who genuinely sought friendship, the Holy Child Eliadeos—who had arrived on the island with other motives—felt he could hardly call himself a good friend. His approach to El was impure, even base.

He…

“So why exactly are you going to Helheim?” Job, whose sight had returned but whose eyes remained gray, paced anxiously on the magic communication link. “What are you planning to do? Or have you already done something? For heaven’s sake, where did Father hide the treasure of our ancestor Adam? You have the token given by His Majesty the Dragon. Perhaps he’ll spare your life out of respect for our ancestor. Don’t worry, Eli, Uncle will figure something out.”

If there was anyone in this world who live a more wretched life than Eliadeos, it was likely his uncle, Job.

Before leaving home, he had been the spirited duke’s son, a respected magician of the Empty Castle, blessed with a happy family and inexhaustible wealth. He believed this journey would merely be one of his many grand adventures—life was a wilderness he longed to explore.

He set out with ambition and hope, determined to find his destined path. And indeed, he succeeded—he discovered the meaning of the future foretold by the crystal ball.

What he hadn’t anticipated was that upon his return, his home would be gone.

Gone in the most literal sense.

His father had passed away suddenly, and his eldest brother had taken charge, inheriting everything. Naturally, this was how things always worked in the Glorious Empire. To prevent wealth from leaving the family, the eldest son inherited all, while the second son received little. This was also why his father had sent him to the Empty Castle to become a magician—his father had been laying the groundwork for his youngest son’s future long ago.

But his elder brother was ruthless to the extreme. He coveted even the keepsakes their mother had left behind and discarded everything in the ancestral home that rightfully belonged to him. Job himself was half-blind. His only remaining family member—his once most cherished nephew—had reportedly been sold to the Church of Light by that beast of a brother and vanished without a trace…

Job didn’t go mad; he simply steeled his resolve.

Now, after finally locating his nephew during his medical journey and restoring his eyesight, Job intended to return home and reclaim his rightful inheritance to support his nephew. Yet his eldest nephew, who had remained silent all this time, suddenly met a tragic end.

The child was eerily quiet—definitely up to no good.

When he left, Eli was still a good boy, diligently learning magic from his teacher! Job was utterly devastated. He couldn’t understand, couldn’t fathom how this had happened. But now wasn’t the time for such thoughts. What mattered most was saving the child—may the ancestors protect him.

Eliadeos stared blankly at his anxious uncle pacing back and forth on the other end of the magic communication. This was the same uncle who’d said, “Don’t worry, I’ll sneak back and support you,” before walking away without a second glance. Eliadeos had assumed he was just another relative who’d grown increasingly dismissive after their grandfather’s death. He never imagined his uncle’s words were entirely true. He had never once considered abandoning him… Even upon hearing that he might have caused an unimaginable catastrophe, his uncle’s first thought was still how to rescue him.

This was Nidhogg, the immortal calamity—an ancient dragon who sliced through monsters as easily as cutting watermelons.

And his uncle…

…was merely a spoiled young master who happened to cook slightly better than average.

“Leave me alone.” These were the first words that truly came from the heart when Eliadeos reunited with his uncle, Job. “I’m prepared to confront El tomorrow. Whatever the outcome, I’ll make things clear to him. If His Majesty the Dragon’s wrath has nowhere to be directed, then I hope he utterly destroys the entire Ponce de León family.”

Eliadeos no longer wished to deceive El. His friend was truly a very, very good friend. He couldn’t continue pretending nothing had happened, living each day, every single day, steeped in guilt until it threatened to consume him.

He’d considered it: the best outcome of confessing would be El hating him, but His Majesty the Dragon sparing him for the sake of the Church of Light.

—The grand fleet dispatched by the Church of Light to welcome the return of the Holy Son was already rowing desperately across the Endless Sea.

Come to think of it, wasn’t this also a way for El to remember him? Eliadeos thought. He’d rather be hated by El than forgotten by him.

The worst outcome would be El hating him, His Majesty the Dragon enraged, finding killing just him insufficient to vent his fury. Then, with the swiftest, clearest precision, reveal his family’s precise address in his dying breath, dragging his father and entire household down with him!

Eliadeos had sent this magic message to his uncle out of awkward obligation—to remind him one last time, for past favors, to flee while he still could.

But his uncle was solely focused on saving him: ” Calm down, listen to me first…“

The Stone Giant, who had never severed ties with his employer but merely transitioned from a hired hand to an adventuring companion, finally posed the most crucial question: ”So, what exactly did you do to the dragon’s young? I recall it was an utterly adorable cub—no one could dislike him.”

The young Saint clenched his fist. Even saying it out loud felt unbearably awkward, but he finally admitted: “I always wanted to imitate him, learn from him, become someone others could easily like.”

Throughout Eliadeos’s brief yet tumultuous seven years of life, his personality had largely divided into two phases: a lawless brat and a prickly hedgehog who’d rather destroy the world than live with it.

In short, neither phase was particularly likable.

He never thought it mattered much. If people didn’t like him, so be it. Plenty disliked him—who did they think they were? But while studying under the Lich Master, he couldn’t help but realize the importance of having good connections.

To seek revenge, he needed not only to master magic but also to gain influence within the Church of Light.

And what kind of Holy Son did the Church of Light favor?

Eliadeos didn’t know, but it was obvious they wouldn’t like his former self.

He tried desperately to become fake, to feign kindness, yet had no clue how to do it—until his uncle mentioned that dragon hatchlings were incredibly endearing.

Upon actually interacting with it, Eliadeos understood. El was truly wonderful—no one could dislike him, not even Eliadeos himself.

But compared to such a good-natured El, the version of himself who’d approached him with ulterior motives felt utterly despicable.

Job: “…”

Stone Giant: “…”

Job: “That’s it?”

Stone Giant: “I see why your nephew is the Holy Son.” No way to criticize him—this is the real deal.

Holy Son Ilaedios turned beet-red with frustration at the adults’ banter. He knew full well this world’s darkness ran far deeper than this—he’d committed plenty of misdeeds himself!

In truth, the Lich, who knew his disciple well, had already warned Nidhogg beforehand: the Holy Son of the Church of Light was anything but pure.

“In magic, or in character?”

“Both, I suppose.” The Lich hesitated over his words. It had taken considerable effort to conceal the dark elements that periodically surfaced within Eli. If the current Holy Son, Lucius, were to discover this, word would likely spread across the entire continent overnight.

Faires was a continent of diverse faiths, dotted with temples to countless deities. Beyond a few extreme fanatics, ordinary believers didn’t engage in deadly sectarian conflicts. Even the dragon clans didn’t consider the Nature Goddess worshipped by the elves heretical—at worst, they might think she wasn’t as formidable in battle as the Dragon God. But there was one exception: dark magic, which had been fervently championed by the former Demon King.

They wouldn’t say the Dark God was bad, nor would they dare speak ill of the demonic races—after all, they couldn’t defeat them. But if the Holy Son of the Church of Light possessed not only formidable light magic but also equally potent dark magic, that would surely invite colossal trouble.

“Oh.” The dragon expressed zero concern. Whether the Holy Son was light or dark had about as much to do with him as a copper coin.

“I mean, kids might get into fights.” Staying for a day or two wouldn’t be a problem, but living together long-term…

In the end, nothing happened.

The two kids got along as if they were the only two people in the world. Well, given the current situation, they really were the only playmates of similar age. The other little dragons were too young, barely able to speak properly.

But the problem was…

Even over something as trivial as the last caramel cookie left on the plate, Eli would glare at Savvy without batting an eye, as if terrified he might try to snatch it from his dear little brother.

Look at my ribs—I don’t even have a digestive system! What exactly am I supposed to be snatching? Lich Savvy was utterly exhausted.

Was this really the same Eliadeos who’d once pushed his half-brother down the stairs, supposedly just because he’d touched his toys?

The current Saint Son, Lucius, had ordered Eli confined to the highest level of detention for this—forty-eight hours without food or water. Yet when the little wolf cub emerged, defiance still burned in his eyes. He felt no remorse whatsoever.

When the Saintess Madeline tried to mediate, suggesting the child must have had his reasons and urging Saint Son Lucius to understand the full story before judging, the boy showed no gratitude. He merely wore a mocking expression and said, “No matter what I say, he’ll find a reason to prove me wrong, just like the new Duke of Ponce de León. Why should I waste my time trying to please their self-righteous moral superiority?”

At that time, the Duke of Ponce de León had not yet found grounds to annul his marriage to Eli’s mother, but he had already stopped calling him father.

When Lich Savvy first heard the old Pope mention it, his jaw nearly dropped. He hadn’t expected a seven-year-old child to already know so many advanced terms. Ahem, he said it was rumored that this duke’s grandson had once been a spoiled brat, excessively pampered by the old duke, who had dismissed no fewer than five tutors over the years.

Though such a brat was irritating, one had to admit that during that period, Eliadeos must have been raised exceptionally well by the old duke, living up to his name—Supreme Radiance.

No one could predict the psychological toll such a fall from grace would take on a seven-year-old. Yet the Holy Son, Eli, visibly swung from one extreme to another—becoming wary, hypersensitive, and filled with hatred for the entire world.

Looking back now, Lich Savvy almost wished his disciple had remained that troublesome brat—the one everyone found irritating, who paraded through town all day with his proud little chest puffed out.

Savvy never thought he’d see the Eli from Job’s memory crystal again—the one who’d run through the courtyard laughing wildly. Yet, not long after, he encountered him in Helheim.

That same apprentice who had declared he was simply not a smiling sort—now, who knew how brightly he beamed before Nidhogg’s cubs?

In short, Eliadeos understood the standards of misdeeds, but his tiny mind operated by its own unique yardstick. The same action carried a different weight depending on whom it affected.

For instance, in his view, whatever he did to his biological father, who had always bullied him,or to his half-siblings, he never considered it wrongdoing. He only thought they deserved it.

But when it came to the world’s best Esther, even concealing such an impure motive at the start felt like an unforgivable sin to him.

His double standards made him truly wicked, wicked indeed.

Job fought back laughter, trying to reason with his nitpicking nephew: “Trust me, if it were only that, I think El would forgive you.”

No, thought the Saint Son Eli, I don’t deserve forgiveness at all!

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Author’s Note: A little nonsense theater:

Young Eli: I must be the worst friend in the whole world. QAQ El will never like me for the rest of his life.

Young El: If you let me have three more cookies, I’ll forgive you!

PS: The main couple won’t split up, and the little ones won’t be separated from their dragon daddy either—no worries, mwah. Just getting ready for everyone to switch maps together 233333