[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-re-tales-of-the-rune-tech-sage":3,"chapter-re-tales-of-the-rune-tech-sage-re-tales-of-the-rune-tech-sage-chapter-504":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":20,"prevChapterSlug":21,"totalChapters":22,"novelImage":23},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":16,"volume":17,"translator":18,"content_hash":19},148217,246,"Chapter 503: Kron, the Disillusioned II","re-tales-of-the-rune-tech-sage-chapter-504",504,"\u003Cp>CH503 Kron, the Disillusioned II\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>***\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Child, do you want to go into the temple?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The voice came from behind him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kron stiffened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He turned and saw an old priest approaching—genial-looking, smiling softly, his steps calm and measured.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet the moment the man drew close, Kron’s pupils tightened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A crushing presence of divine energy washed over him like a tide, a bit overwhelming.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His heart skipped a beat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>’A Bishop...!’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A bishop’s divine energy could rival—sometimes even surpass—that of a Combat Master.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kron immediately lowered his head and shook it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I am not worthy.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old priest chuckled warmly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Indeed. We are all unworthy,\" he said gently, \"and yet our Lord sends forth His grace to all who embrace the light and justice.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stepped closer, smile widening.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Come, child. Let the light of our Lord Juror bask through you.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before Kron could properly refuse, the old man reached out and took his arm—firmly, almost forcefully.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wasn’t asking... he was guiding.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No- dragging.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And just like that, Kron was pulled into the Grand Cathedral.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At first, Kron’s mind raced.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He thought he’d been found out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That the bishop had sensed the crack.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That he was about to be exposed as a heretic and cleansed on the spot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But as the minutes passed, he realised something else.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That wasn’t it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The bishop hadn’t noticed anything.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kron was led into a worship session and made to join the congregation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stood amongst kneeling bodies and bowed heads, surrounded by voices chanting prayers with desperate devotion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And to his own surprise, he didn’t feel fear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He felt... disdain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A cold, simmering contempt as he watched them throw themselves into belief...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Belief in a false deity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A deity who couldn’t even realise a heretic had entered its house of worship.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Crack~~! Shatter~~!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In that instant of... clarity, Kron heard it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A sharp fracture inside his mind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His already cracked link to Juror finally shattered completely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kron’s face drained of colour.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cold horror seized his chest as some harrowing thoughts slammed into his head.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>’I’ve been exposed. They’ll know.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>’Inquisition!’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But nothing happened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No holy light descended. Not even a clergy turned to stare.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No divine wrath surged through his veins.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Instead, Eleanore’s enchantment continued to function flawlessly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It wrapped around the absence where Juror’s link used to be, imitating it so perfectly that it gave the illusion that everything was still intact.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That Kron Belloc was still a believer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A weak one, perhaps... But a believer nonetheless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And that truth only deepened the rot inside Kron.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It cemented Juror’s inequity into his heart, and strangely... it also sparked something else.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A grim determination.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A desire to rid his family of this false worship, no matter the cost.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old clergyman had dragged Kron into the cathedral hoping to save a lost soul.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But what walked out was a soul that wanted to be as far from the temple—and its deity—as possible.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kron left the cathedral behind and made his way towards Belloc Castle, built into the forest at the rear of Ostmont City.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he entered the treeline and the road bent into the familiar curve of his childhood, his steps slowed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The castle emerged from the greenery like a memory given form.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A relic of his family’s heyday.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And the moment he saw it, Kron couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A gentle familiarity washed over him as he followed the path that curved exactly as he remembered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But as the castle drew closer, so did the silent weight it carried.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not just history... But its current reality.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From a distance, it looked pristine— Immaculate, even.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Clean stone walls, bright banners... A fortress kept polished and proud, as though its owners had never fallen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet, much like the cathedral—much like Juror’s illusion of godhood—the illusion of grandeur began to fade the closer Kron came.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The outer gates stood wide open.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course they did.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No one dared attack, not with the troops stationed there.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>’Those troops...’ Kron’s eyes narrowed. ’They aren’t wearing House Belloc’s colours.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No— Dressed in fine-quality armour and disciplined formations, the guards at the gates bore the colours of the Holy Lumeria Empire’s Imperial Guard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even here...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even at the gates of what should have been his family’s home...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Imperial Guards looked at him with practised indifference, even after he introduced himself as a scion of House Belloc.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was no glad welcome in their eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No recognition nor warmth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only quiet professionalism... and a cold, practised assessment of threat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only after Kron was judged as ’not a threat’ did the guards finally allow him entry.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he stepped through the gates after that hollow welcome—after his boot met the carved stone ground—Kron’s eyes couldn’t help turning misty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not because he was happy... But because he noticed the details he hadn’t seen from afar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The path beneath him was wide enough for grand carriages and marching columns of knights.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A road built for a House that once received powerful guests as equals from far and wide.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now, though...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now, It felt too wide... Too grand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Like the stone itself had been built for footsteps that no longer walked here.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kron’s gaze shifted from the carved path to the greenery beside it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The lawns were trimmed and the hedges were cut into neat lines.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even the fountain still ran, steadily spilling clean, clear water—whispering the same soothing song it once had in his childhood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet beneath that beauty, Kron saw another truth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The flowers and greens were fresh and vibrant, yes... But their arrangement didn’t evoke warmth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It didn’t carry the pride of a noble House’s garden.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Instead, it felt... staged.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Maintained not out of love, but out of obligation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A performance... A façade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kron’s mood sank further as his eyes turned to the statues of past Heads of House Belloc—especially the ones who had led the family into its golden age.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They still watched over the courtyard with the same stern gazes as before.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But those gazes, once filled with pride... now seemed to weep.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even though the statues themselves were well-kept, the plaques beneath them—the names, the deeds, the history of House Belloc—had been left to dull beneath a thin layer of dust.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Neglected, they slowly faded, as though the family’s own legacy was being erased one grain at a time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kron swallowed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His eyes burned as they rose to the castle itself... and to its banners.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>House Belloc’s crest still hung there.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But it wasn’t at the centre.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not where it belonged.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Imperial banner claimed the highest, central pole. Bright, spotless and seemingly untouched by time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>While his family’s banners looked shabbier in comparison—forced to flank the Imperial colours like attendants in their own home.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He finally reached the grand doors of the castle mansion itself, and his footsteps came to an abrupt halt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The doors were freshly polished.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The stonework beside them was maintained with delicate care.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It didn’t look like the residence of a House that had fallen... but like a legacy preserved at its peak.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet all Kron felt as he stared at it... was a heavy, quiet sadness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>’Back then, I was grateful to the Imperial family for supporting our House,’ he thought.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>’I believed Father made all the right decisions.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His jaw tightened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>’But now I can see it clearly... that couldn’t be further from the truth.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>’Yes, House Belloc hasn’t fallen into complete ruin.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>’It has been preserved.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His eyes darkened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>’But preserved for who?’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>’Certainly not for itself...’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kron’s hand clenched so tightly his nails threatened to cut into his palm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>’Indeed... our castle... our House... has not been preserved for House Belloc.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>’It has been preserved for what it represents to those in power.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>’This is nothing more than a performance. A stage play.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>’A convenient pawn kept standing.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>’And the moment our usefulness expires, all of this...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>’All of this will vanish, just like the illusion it is.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>BANG!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The grand doors suddenly swung open.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kron flinched slightly, his thoughts snapping apart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Behind them stood a familiar face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The castle’s butler.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Older now, his hair greyed with time, yet his posture remained straight as a blade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Young Master Kron... you are finally back.\" The man bowed deeply.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then he stepped aside and gestured inward with one hand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Please come inside, Young Master. I instructed the maids to keep your room attended to.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His voice softened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Welcome home.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>’Home...?’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The word echoed faintly in Kron’s mind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Beyond the doors, the atrium-styled hall looked exactly as he remembered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The décor, its symmetry, the scent of polished wood and old stone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It indeed looked like home.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But after everything he had seen on his way here... Kron Belloc could no longer bring himself to believe it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Whatever awaited him inside, he couldn’t face it standing outside these doors.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So he stepped forward...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And crossed the threshold.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kron Belloc had left home a naïve youth, blinded to the true face of the world...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he returned, now older... wiser...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And far more disillusioned by its ugly realities.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>***\u003C\u002Fp>",1508,"2026-05-29T03:49:35.273Z","2026-06-01T04:29:07.188Z",1,"novelbin.me","6ac8826a3d90173161ab4a2734f0e2aa2b5d800267bab1f538e1f2bfaad77ee5","re-tales-of-the-rune-tech-sage-chapter-505","re-tales-of-the-rune-tech-sage-chapter-503",692,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fre-tales-of-the-rune-tech-sage-cover.jpg"]