Aqui está a tradução revisada para o inglês do Capítulo 26, com edição literária para manter tom de dark fantasy / light novel, consistência com os capítulos 24–25 e linguagem natural para publicação.
A história foi preservada integralmente — apenas refinei fluidez
The metallic sound echoed through the chamber like an ancient lament.
The chains of dimmed light trembled, reacting to Celestine's mere presence before the shattered throne. The bound entity kept her gaze fixed on her, as though—for the first time in countless ages—someone truly saw her.
Leonhardt's instincts screamed for him to retreat. Every fiber of his being recognized that thing as dangerous—not out of rage, but instability. Something too broken to be contained without consequence.
"Celestine," he said quietly, "this isn't a plea for help. It's a warning."
The Guardian remained motionless, but his aura had hardened, sharp as a drawn blade.
"The chains were forged with divine authorization," he declared. "Not as punishment, but as containment. Freeing her would endanger everything that still remains in balance."
Celestine did not look away from the kneeling figure.
"Balance for whom?"
The silence that followed was heavy.
The entity tried to move again, and the chains bit deeper, tearing from her a sound that wasn't quite pain—it was pure frustration, compressed by centuries.
"I tried to end the cycle," she said. "But I did it alone."
"You're not alone," Celestine replied.
She felt the Void pulse violently within her—not as a threat, but as recognition. As if it saw in that figure a distorted mirror of what Celestine herself might become.
"If I break these chains…" Celestine murmured, "what happens?"
The entity slowly lifted her face.
"The world will hate me again."
"The gods will try to erase me once more."
"And you will be marked as the ultimate traitor."
Leonhardt clenched his teeth.
"That's not a fair choice."
"It never is," Celestine answered.
She stepped forward.
The ground responded instantly. Ancient symbols ignited around the circle, and the Sanctuary released a deep sound, as though it were drawing a heavier breath.
The Guardian finally moved.
"If you take one more step, Celestine, the Sanctuary will record your decision," he warned.
"There will be no return—political, divine, or historical."
She turned to him.
"When have I ever had one?"
The Guardian fell silent.
Celestine faced the entity once more.
"What is your name?"
The creature hesitated, as if the concept itself were distant.
"I… once had one."
"Now I am called only Ruin."
Celestine closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them, there was a cold clarity in her gaze.
"Ruin is not a name," she said.
"It's a label."
She rested her sword against the ground, gripping the hilt with both hands.
"I won't free you today."
Leonhardt exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
The entity remained still, but something in her expression shifted—not anger, but bitter understanding.
"Then you are like them."
"No," Celestine replied. "I'm worse."
"Because I know exactly what I'm doing."
She stepped closer, stopping just a few paces from the chains.
"I won't break the seal without understanding everything."
"But I also won't let you rot here forever."
The Void within her reached out, touching the chains carefully. For the first time, they did not react with violence—only trembling, as if acknowledging her authority.
The Guardian's eyes widened.
"That's impossible…"
"No," Celestine said calmly. "It's consequence."
She withdrew her hand slowly.
"I will return."
"And when I do, it won't be to choose in the dark."
The entity—Ruin—bowed her head slightly.
"Then I will wait," she said.
"As I always have."
Celestine stepped away.
The moment she turned her back, the entire Sanctuary trembled. A wave of energy spiraled along the walls, climbing the pillars and tearing through invisible layers of reality.
The Guardian closed his eyes.
"The Heavens felt that."
Leonhardt looked at Celestine.
"What did you just do?"
She took a deep breath.
"I warned the world that I exist."
"And that I will not accept its rules without questioning them."
Far away—far beyond the Sanctuary—a presence stirred.
And this time…
it was not divine.