Chapter 427: You Really Are Arrogant, Aren't You? (5K Subscription Request)

“Orphidia~”

“Be silent!”

After Herbert called her name, Orphidia reacted with great embarrassment.

She could no longer maintain the mystery and aura she had shown before Bishop Rustnail, glaring at Herbert.

“Don’t call me that!”

In furious rage, Orphidia’s long hair trembled, instantly bursting free from her hood like dozens of wild serpents writhing wildly.

Though the strands of hair made no actual sound, Herbert faintly sensed a hissing near his ears.

Hisss—Ha!

Hmm, looks like she exhaled.

Though the other’s demeanor seemed unfriendly, Herbert’s reaction was unusually calm.

He did not feel fear; instead, he took a step forward.

“Oh, it really moves!”

Herbert stared curiously at the writhing serpent-hair, even reaching out to touch it… only to be struck by one strand.

Swish—

Before the serpent-hair could strike him, Herbert swiftly retracted his finger, pretending nothing had happened, casually letting his hand fall behind his back.

With his hands clasped behind him, he smiled warmly at the Ash Bishop: “Haha, you really are called that.”

“Orphidia. A fine name.”

Seeing Herbert so composed, Orphidia could no longer continue her hissing.

The scene made her seem petty.

“Tch!”

She shot Herbert a furious glare.

She was not some fragile girl who got angry or embarrassed just because someone said her name.

It was merely an unexpected turn that caught her off guard.

“…”

Orphidia fell silent for a moment; her hair slowly settled, her gaze complex as she looked at Herbert and let out a huff.

“Hmph, I thought you’d avoid this topic.”

Orphidia had expected Herbert to deliberately sidestep the subject, pretending ignorance about the “dream” and playing coy with her.

Instead, he had come straight out and confessed.

This left her, who had mentally prepared for a long back-and-forth, utterly unprepared.

Why aren’t you following the script!

Don’t you have any sense of unspoken understanding?

Herbert merely shrugged, calmly replying: “Why would I deliberately avoid it?”

“I see no reason to conceal this. I don’t believe I’ve done anything out of line.”

Nothing out of line?

Orphidia couldn’t help rolling her eyes, wanting to shout a retort.

Didn’t you deceive me!

You said I betrayed you, that I wronged you… weren’t those all your own words!?

“…”

Of course, though she thought this, Orphidia did not voice her complaint.

The reason was simple.

It would be humiliating!

If she said it, wouldn’t that be an admission that she’d been deceived?

Orphidia wasn’t someone with a high sense of pride, but she refused to admit her own miscalculation in this matter.

Moreover, for some reason, facing this man, she especially didn’t want to admit defeat or let him tower over her.

In the end, all her anger could only be squeezed into a quiet, half-hearted huff.

“Hmph!”

Seeing her reaction, Herbert smiled inwardly.

“Heh.”

He knew he had passed the test—his small transgression in the dream had been successfully laid to rest.

He chose not to press further, abandoning the chance to press his advantage—better to stop while ahead; say more, and he’d truly be struck.

Though he had now successfully entered Legend, he was still no match before an Epic-level powerhouse.

He shifted the topic, his smile fading slightly as he fixed his gaze on Orphidia and asked: “My lord, since I have passed the final trial, have I now become a [Keeper of Secrets]?”

Seeing Herbert grow serious, Orphidia could only suppress her last traces of irritation, frowning in thought.

After a moment, she nodded slowly.

“...Yes.”

Orphidia spoke softly, her voice tinged with resignation and sorrow:

“The moment you broke free from the illusion of [Silence and Noise] and awoke, you became a true Keeper of Secrets.”

No matter how much she wished Herbert would avoid this murky water, no matter how much she wished he would escape the same fate as hers,

the ritual was the ritual, the rule was the rule.

The instant Herbert passed the ritual’s trial, the world had recognized him—he was now one of them.

This was an unchangeable fact.

She looked at the boy before her, her gaze complex, momentarily dazed.

Herbert differed from every Keeper of Secrets she had ever known.

He was not silent or withdrawn, nor did he carry the dullness of other Keepers—he radiated vibrant life.

Like a youthful, innocent boy, full of curiosity and vigor toward the world.

But Orphidia knew: it was merely an appearance.

Herbert might still be young, but he was never naive, never an ignorant child.

He was clever—even cunning.

He was mature—even seasoned.

This was a boy whose harmless exterior masked a profound contrast.

Herbert was truly exceptional, worthy of others’ expectations.

Yet Orphidia still shook her head in resignation, feeling a pang of sorrow.

He was suited to lead the monastery’s future—not to be a Keeper, hoarding secrets in solitude.

In the end, Orphidia could not help but look at him and sigh: “Herbert… you know what this means.”

You will walk a lonely path.

“I know. I’ve always known.”

Facing the Ash Bishop’s pitying gaze, Herbert gently shook his head: “Orphidia, you need not feel sorry for me. This is my own chosen path.”

“As for the so-called ‘cost’ involved, I understood it in the past, comprehend it now, and my resolve will never change.”

Herbert never needed anyone’s pity.

He never did, and he never will.

If anything, it was always the arrogant Herbert who pitied others—not the other way around.

“And now, I only wish to confirm one thing with you.”

Herbert fixed his gaze on Orphidia and asked in a low voice:

“Since I have become a Keeper of Secrets, do I now have the right to share the burden you carry?”

Do I now have the right to stand beside you?

“Share my burden?”

The Ash Bishop hesitated, unconsciously asking: “So… is this truly why you wanted to become a Keeper?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Interpret it as you will,” replied the new Keeper, calm and detached.

“...”

Though Herbert had claimed this before, Orphidia had instinctively dismissed it as a joke.

That’s why she had given him such a difficult trial, never expecting him to pass.

She fell silent for a moment, then shook her head: “I must clarify—you say you wish to share my burden, but what I carry is not a burden.”

“It is a mission.”

Hum—

The moment she spoke, every tome within the semi-plane trembled.

The long-dormant secrets stirred awake, awakening their voices.

She raised her head, her gaze resolute as she spoke firmly: “No matter how outsiders label them—as knowledge, as secrets, even as curses—none can obscure one truth: these are the missions passed down by generations of Keepers.”

“We collect these secrets, guard them—not for ourselves, but to prevent the gods from erasing them, so that mortals may know these truths.”

“This is the mission the Keepers have borne since their inception.”

The Keepers are not merely a group of collectors—they were born to defy the gods.

Since the birth of the gods, they have held dominion over all things.

The sky, the land, the oceans… all material existence was divided among them.

After seizing control of every material thing in the mortal realm, these greedy beings sought to claim mortal thought as well.

The gods branded mortals’ minds with seals, shackled them with chains, and harvested their faith.

Countless ages passed, yet the mortal world remained unchanged, making little progress.

Were mortals too foolish?

No.

It was because the gods held everything.

They stifled mortal development, keeping the world’s progress within controllable bounds.

Not too low, not too high.

If it sank too low, they would bestow divine grace to aid their growth.

If it rose too high, they would unleash divine punishment to destroy their efforts.

Any act threatening their rule was deemed sacrilege.

In the most fanatical era, possessing knowledge was considered an unforgivable sin!

Though later, as new gods born of mortals rose, the gods’ oppression gradually lessened, the overall structure remained unchanged.

The Order of the Keepers was born from this—its mission: to protect knowledge from being erased by the gods.

Ophidia had always held to this principle, and taken pride in it.

So, when faced with Herbert’s “compassion,” though she understood his intent, she still revealed her displeasure.

It was not merely to defend her own conviction, but to honor every generation of Keepers who had held fast before her.

Yet facing the wrath of the entire demiplane, Herbert’s reaction remained calm, his expression unaltered.

“You misunderstand. I do not look down on the Keepers.”

He shook his head, calmly: “But whether it is a mission, a duty, or even so-called fate—in essence, they are all the same.”

“No matter how you phrase it, this is not something one person should bear.”

Herbert had never denied the Keepers’ achievements, nor disrespected their beliefs.

On the contrary, he deeply admired their courage—their steadfastness in facing the gods.

That did not mean he ignored the pressure they bore or the blood and sweat they sacrificed.

Pain is pain. Pressure is pressure.

No matter how many reasons you give, how noble your justification, you cannot hide the cost.

“I admire the courage of those who came before, and I grieve for their sacrifice—these two feelings do not conflict.”

“Perhaps the world holds the role of a savior—but a true savior should never be only one person.”

In a world where transcendent power exists, an individual’s strength is amplified infinitely, capable of astonishing feats.

Yet even so, one person saving the world is far too difficult.

It is simply too exhausting.

Are all the others dead?

Why must the “savior” bear it alone?

Herbert stared at Ophidia, earnestly: “You are not the savior, and you should not bear this alone.”

He spoke bluntly: “In my view, this is merely a chain you’ve bound around yourself.”

“You know this deep down—but you pretend not to. No, you know it well—and even take pride in it.”

Pfft.

He couldn’t help but scoff, teasing: “So you think you’re some tragic hero from an epic novel? Must it be only you who bears this? Must only you shoulder it all?”

“If it hurts, why not ask others for help?”

“You…”

Herbert stepped forward, staring intently at the increasingly silent Ophidia, and said slowly: “How arrogant.”

!!!

Pah!

The rune-covered serpent tail behind Ophidia slammed hard onto the ground, cracking the half-dimension’s solid surface with a massive fissure.

The shockwave from the impact shook the entire half-dimension.

Rage.

Under Herbert’s deliberate provocation, Ophidia had been successfully enraged.

Yet even in such fury, she retained her reason, refusing to lose control.

“You… what do you know?”

Ophidia used her tail to lift herself, looking down from above at the ignorant, insolent boy.

She was furious—because Herbert knew nothing, yet dared to speak so boldly.

“What happened back then? What did we endure? You know nothing!”

Do you know the pressure we bore? Do you know what we faced?

You don’t.

Herbert’s words sounded morally superior, but in truth, they were the empty talk of an outsider who felt no burden.

Yet facing the approaching pressure, furious flames, and even faint hints of lethal intent, Herbert remained calm.

He stepped forward again, nearly pressing against her, and said in a low voice:

“Yes, you’re right—I know nothing. My words are merely the irresponsible ramblings of an outsider.”

“But! I know there is no such thing as a deserved sacrifice.”

He reversed the power dynamic, grabbing her collar and growling: “Whether chosen or forced, no one should ever be sacrificed!”

“Don’t you understand this?!?”

“Back then, did they willingly let you sacrifice yourself?”

!!!

Herbert’s words struck Ophidia’s soul, dragging her thoughts instantly back to that moment long ago.

Though countless ages had passed, their final words still echoed in her ears.

“Child, don’t do this!”

“Ophidia, no—”

“Foolish child, don’t be so reckless!”

“You don’t have to bear it all alone!!!”

At that time, she had hesitated—but ultimately defied their wishes, choosing to bear their collective mission alone.

Perhaps, as Herbert said… this was arrogance.

Believing oneself capable of bearing everything, carrying all burdens—wasn’t that arrogance too?

As Ophidia sank into painful memories, Herbert suddenly smiled.

He released his grip on her collar and instead gently wrapped his arms around her waist, whispering:

“And…”

“I don’t intend to remain ignorant forever. If you’re willing to tell me, I’m willing to listen.”

“You don’t have to bear this alone.”

!!!

In an instant, Ophidia’s rage vanished.

Completely gone.

Different time, different place, different people—but the same words.

They urged her: don’t bear it alone. Don’t shoulder it all.

The former had lost the ability to share her burden—but the latter had already made his effort.

I am willing to share it with you.

“….”

Her body trembled. Her arms fell limply, then rose slowly, awkwardly.

Ophidia hesitated—then gently returned the embrace.

Feeling the warmth radiating from Herbert, she slowly closed her eyes…

How long had it been since she felt such warmth?

So long she had forgotten human bodies could be this warm.

The two stood silently embraced, neither speaking, simply feeling each other’s breath and heartbeat.

After what felt like an eternity, Ophidia spoke first, her voice a whisper, dreamlike: “Herbert… you really are arrogant.”

Herbert called Ophidia arrogant—but in truth, no one’s arrogance matched his.

Herbert smiled, openly admitting it.

“Yes, I know. I’ve never denied it.”

So what if I’m arrogant?

Who dares to object?

“Some say the arrogant will ultimately face loneliness—but I think that’s wrong.”

"I'm not alone, am I?"

"You will walk with me."

Herbert laughed, winking at the still-dazed Ophidia with a teasing tone: "As my only colleague, you wouldn't abandon me, a new Keeper of Secrets, would you?"

"You wouldn't be that heartless, would you?"

Ophidia laughed at this, shaking her head: "Heh, you... hmm?"

Before Herbert could react, he suddenly felt darkness engulf his vision.

"Hm?"

"Keeper, I'm here to find Herbert—he... hmm?"

After bowing, Bishop Rust Nail blinked, staring at the empty semi-plane, puzzled.

Hss... where's Herbert?

I clearly saw him walk in?

Where is he?

Ophidia: "..."

Yes.

Where's Herbert?

"...Come to think of it, is there truly no other place to hide?"

Herbert snorted, then turned to look at the serpent tail beside him and shook his head again.

"Hmm, I think this place is fine enough."

(End of Chapter)