It was dark and silent like a cemetery, yet it was a shrine—stained with blood and marked by a damaged statue of a dying deity bleeding gold from its wounds.
Liam stood before this dying deity as the ramblings of a thousand madmen echoed in the backdrop. He watched the deity reach out with its withering arm and speak.
"Take My Sin. Make It Yours!" it demanded in a harsh, broken voice, startling Liam.
He jerked back, retreating several steps before the scene faded into a plume of smoke. His eyes fluttered open, gazing dully at the expensive chandeliers above.
Even though he had just woken up, there were dark circles under his eyes like someone who hadn't slept in days.
"In the vision during the ascension, it only whispered those words, but now it's demanding. Is it growing impatient with me?" Liam muttered.
He was worried there would be repercussions if he failed to take the dying god's sin. There was so much he didn't know, and this lack of knowledge threatened to be the end of him.
---
"Monster movements spotted beyond Western walls. It's still too early to predict their convergence location. Government tightening defense on the walls," Liam read off the newspaper.
In this war, creatures could be gunned down and even killed in hordes—they were not the real problem. The true threat was the angels. It was easier to kill a hundred thousand monsters than to kill the weakest angel.
As long as they had yet to find angels, they had yet to find the real threat.
Liam tossed the last piece of toasted bread into his mouth before picking up a slice of bacon but froze before eating it. His eyes met those of the old butler standing silently in the corner, watching him intently.
He wasn't used to being observed like this—it was uncomfortable.
"You didn't sleep well. You have yet to release the pent-up curse energy stored since awakening," Sir Renginald said in a calm, leveled tone, as if he had expected this.
Liam blinked in confusion, wondering if he had heard wrong—or if his butler was truly tutoring him on curses.
"Each butler assigned to an Ascendant is a curse expert, trained to guide and serve. Our goal is to help prevent Ascendants from going lost and to tutor them on the necessary knowledge of curses," Sir Renginald explained upon seeing Liam's confusion.
"Oh." Liam nodded almost absentmindedly.
He laid down his fork and focused his attention on Sir Renginald.
"Then what do you think is the solution to my problem?" he asked.
Sir Renginald smiled as if he'd heard this question countless times.
"Simple. Indulgence." He brought over a glass cup and a jar of water, placing them on the table for Liam to see.
"As an Ascendant, you are the cup—and the water is the curse."
He began pouring water into the cup until it was full.
"Imagine this cup is sealed, and more water flows into it endlessly. What do you think will happen eventually?" Renginald asked.
"Easy. It'll burst eventually." Liam popped a bit of scrambled egg into his mouth, chewing while speaking.
"Good." Renginald nodded approvingly. "Now you understand your current situation."
Liam's eyes widened in realization, and he abruptly stood.
"So what you're saying is…"
"Allow the curse to flow by indulging your instincts and gut feelings. Only then can you manifest your curse and understand its contents," Sir Renginald cut him off.
The solution was much simpler than Liam had expected, making him wonder why he hadn't thought of it himself. But with the solution came a new problem.
To indulge his curse, he needed a test subject. It wasn't something he could do alone.
"This facility provides a stable source of death-row prisoners who can be used as test subjects. If you wish, you can head over to the Curse Containment Facility to practice. It would also be a good opportunity to record your curse abilities," Sir Renginald said smoothly.
He had served several masters before Liam. This question always came up, so he didn't need to wait for Liam to voice it before offering a solution.
"Oh?" A sinister smile crept up Liam's face. "Maybe after breakfast then."
"As you wish." Renginald bowed slightly and returned to the corner.
Liam watched him closely as he walked away, silently noting the golden thread sealing the old man's lips—but said nothing about it.
Unlike Honorable William, whose lips were sealed with black thread depicting lies and deceit, this old man's lips were sealed with a golden thread depicting—
"Complicity," Liam muttered under his breath. "He is aware of a sin but willingly silent about it."
A light chuckle escaped his lips before he returned his attention to his meal. If he went around questioning everyone about their sins, he'd be labeled unpleasant. It was best to wait until he reached the testing facility.
Still, a thought crossed his mind, and he turned to Renginald again.
"Why do people fail the Ascendance Test? I didn't really find it difficult."
It wasn't just talk—the turnout rate was abysmally low. There were five Ascendants this year, but only he and one other person survived. He couldn't understand why others failed such an easy test.
"Weren't you told?" Renginald asked. "The first test is a game of identity. Most Ascendants lose themselves to the new life, trials, luxuries, and connections they make in that world—losing their true identity in the process. To maintain identity is difficult because enough time is spent there for one to forget it's a trial."
With that explanation, Liam finally understood why he succeeded. Even after spending over three months in that world, he never got attached to his children, the eunuch, or his people. He manipulated his kids into killing each other and made Kong Fei Emperor, even when Shin Fei was the better choice—leading to a war that made everyone suffer.
But none of that mattered as long as he survived. If he had chosen to play the benevolent ruler and good father, he would have died with the illusion.
"I see." Liam nodded, looking out the window.
It was crazy that he hadn't received this information from Madam Ruth before the test—it would've made everything easier.
"She was really trying to get me killed," he muttered.
— Curse Containment Facility —
By noon, Sir Renginald drove Liam to the CCF.
"Welcome! Welcome to the CCF, Mr. Pioneer!" Dr. Brighton yelled with exaggerated laughter as Liam and Sir Renginald exited their vehicle.
Dr. Brighton was a lanky man standing nearly six-foot-seven. His messy hair, stained lab coat, and pale skin from lack of sunlight matched his erratic temperament.
Staring at him, all Liam saw were chains soaked in blood, bound to his back. Many had died because of him, though he had never taken a life directly.
"Hello!" Liam called, waving frantically with a friendly smile.
He played along, running over to Brighton like an old friend, and they hugged tightly. Brighton sniffed his neck several times before pulling away with a grin.
"Pioneers. They certainly smell different!" he exclaimed. The two soldiers beside him instinctively took a step back.
The doctor's grin widened with excitement. "Willy boy told me you can see a person's sin. Is that true?"
Liam's smile broadened as he leaned closer and whispered, "There are quite a lot of adulterers out there."
"I knew it!" Brighton cheered like he'd just won the lottery.
Then, his smile faded. His eyes narrowed with curiosity.
"What about murderers?" he asked.
Liam didn't answer immediately. He glanced around as if to make sure no one was listening, then whispered, "We are few. A rare breed, brother."
"We are?" Brighton's eyes sparkled.
Sir Renginald could only stand aside and watch as Liam and Brighton laughed like old comrades. This man was someone even Ascendants avoided—only now did Renginald remember that Liam had killed his parents the very day he ascended.
Two lunatics were simply having a reunion.