"At that time," Marcellus began slowly, his voice low, steady, and carrying a weight that brooked no argument, "Livia must also have been under the influence of the Holy Grail. That sudden collapse of hers—most likely, it was the direct result of the Grail's power. And then… in the end, she abandoned it."
Elias froze, his brow furrowing sharply. "Abandoned? What do you mean by that?"
Marcellus's gaze deepened, as though he were dredging up a truth long buried in darkness, a truth no one else had ever glimpsed. "She came into contact with the Grail for only a single day. And after that, she threw it away with her own hands—cast it into the river."
The atmosphere shifted instantly, pressing down heavy and suffocating. The fire in the hearth crackled faintly, each snap of flame like a grim punctuation mark to the revelation.
"One day? The Grail's power could be that terrifying?" Elias muttered, doubt flickering across his face. "But if it was only a fragment, could it truly hold such devastating influence? If so, why didn't it harm you? Why didn't it harm the rest of us?"
"I cannot say for certain," Marcellus answered, his tone as unreadable as the shadows dancing behind him. "There is a gap in Livia's memory. Whatever happened during that time must have been… extraordinary."
"I knew it…" Elias suddenly lifted his head, his eyes lighting with a sudden flare of wild relief, almost joy. "So that's why everything has been so strange! You're saying—wait, are you telling me—Livia regained all of her memories?" His voice trembled with eagerness, as though he were grasping for a hope that could return the world to the order he once understood.
But Marcellus's reply crashed down like a hammer, cold and merciless: "No… she is not Livia."
The words sliced through the air like a blade. Elias stiffened, his entire body turning rigid, as though impaled by that single sentence.
"What did you just say?!" His eyes flew wide, his face flushing with color, his voice breaking into a mixture of fury and disbelief. "What kind of nonsense are you spouting?!"
Marcellus's stare never wavered. His expression was steady, unshakable, almost unnervingly calm, as if he had long anticipated this very outburst. "I asked you before if Livia had done anything beyond my knowledge. You only mentioned the things that happened before her collapse. Yet you said nothing of the changes that followed it."
He paused, letting the silence draw tight like a noose, then leaned in with words sharp enough to pin Elias to his very chair.
"After she awoke, she displayed a skill, a clarity, and even a shift in temperament that were nothing like the woman you knew before. And yet, you never once showed surprise. At first, I assumed you were simply aware of the truth and chose to conceal it. But now… I see you were just as blind. You knew only one thing: that she had changed."
Marcellus's lips curled ever so slightly, his expression twisting into something like a cruel smile—a look of satisfaction that came with tearing the veil off a terrible secret.
Elias lurched to his feet, his chest heaving, fury radiating from every line of his body. His voice thundered, unable to mask the rage boiling over. "What are you talking about?!"
"I mean this—" Marcellus's eyes narrowed into slits of steel, his tone cutting, decisive, unyielding.
"The woman you call Livia… she is no longer Livia. No—her body remains the same, but her soul… her soul has already been replaced by another."
The fire popped sharply at that moment, a burst of sparks rising like startled embers into the air. And in that flickering light, Elias's face twisted between denial and dawning horror, as if the world beneath his feet had just fractured beyond recognition.