Type-Moon: Does even a sneak peek make it official?

"...?"

The blonde girl looked blankly between Novia and her mother, completely puzzled by that cryptic remark.

Agrippina's expression darkened for a brief second, but she quickly replaced it with an apologetic smile, gently stroking the child's head.

Novia, however, saw right through the facade. He knew all too well the depths of this woman's control and manipulation. The persistent headaches Nero suffered from since childhood were no random illness — they were the handiwork of Agrippina, steadily poisoning her own daughter. The toxins were etched so deeply into her very Saint Graph that even after Nero's transformation into the Beast, they remained like a curse impossible to escape.

In short, Agrippina never regarded her daughter Nero as a true person. At best… she was a puppet.

"You're right, my lord," Agrippina said softly, her eyes glistening with the threat of tears as they met the boy's calm gaze. "This is my failure as a mother. If only I had cared for her better as a child, perhaps things wouldn't have turned out this way. I swear… this won't happen again."

"That's good to hear, Lady Agrippina."

Novia smiled faintly. He knew perfectly well that Agrippina wouldn't show her true colors so easily. In Type-Moon's retelling of history, even when she was finally purged, Agrippina had died with a smile on her face — smiling as she watched the hysterical Nero die. An absolute madwoman through and through.

After that brief exchange, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched on. It wasn't that there was nothing left to say — it was a contest of patience. Who would lose composure first?

Novia, naturally, had no such concerns. Agrippina was the one who needed something from him. Without his approval, she couldn't even approach Emperor Claudius, let alone rise to the position of Empress within a year and maneuver her child onto the imperial throne.

Sure enough, as night gradually descended, Agrippina grew visibly anxious. Eventually, she abandoned subtlety altogether.

"My lord Novia… As His Majesty's niece, I've seen how tirelessly he works for the empire, day and night… I wonder… could you… speak a word on my behalf to His Majesty?"

As she spoke, the woman licked her lips, revealing a pair of sharp, twin canines at the corner of her upper jaw. Her gaze, long trained in the art of seduction, softened as she stared at Novia with calculated affection.

"Lady Agrippina," Novia replied, utterly unmoved, "the God I serve still watches over this world."

His sea-blue eyes, cold and unfathomable like the ocean depths in the dead of winter, made Agrippina's heart instinctively seize with fear, cooling her restless thoughts in an instant.

"…I see."

Meanwhile, Domitius observed her mother's expression. Though it could be called composed, it felt more like… dissatisfaction. But Domitius no longer cared. Her head throbbed so badly she just wanted to go home.

"…And what of my child's future? This pain…?"

Agrippina lowered her gaze, clearly scheming.

"I believe… there's nothing more to say. Farewell, Lady Agrippina."

Beneath the cloud-strewn night sky, Novia rose to leave, his footsteps ringing sharply against the ground.

"…Wait, my lord."

Her voice was stripped of all pretense. Her eyes, cold as ice, locked onto Novia as he turned. This time… she was truly resolved. Novia could sense it clearly.

"I am willing to convert to Christianity. And my child… Domitius… has believed in your God for some time. I humbly ask, my lord, that you baptize her."

In principle, becoming a Christian required nothing more than sincere faith — to be justified by faith alone.

After all, Jesus himself had declared: "I did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give my life as a ransom for many."

Naturally, Novia saw through Agrippina's lie. There wasn't a shred of sincerity in her so-called conversion — only a declaration of allegiance. If he agreed, she would publicly proclaim it.

But what intrigued Novia most wasn't Agrippina — it was her child, Domitius. The future Nero.

If history's infamous tyrant, known for his brutal persecution of Christians, became one of the faithful instead… what kind of future would that create?

Moreover, Domitius herself was already extraordinary. According to the lore of the Beast of Sodom, it was only after her destined death that she fully awakened as a harbinger of disaster…

As Novia pondered, Domitius's pupils flickered with anxiety. Her breathing had already grown uneven.

"…"

The blonde girl gazed at him, eyes hazy, as if just waking from a dream.

Then, her expression distant, she nodded. "Yes."

She nodded once. Then, for reasons even she couldn't explain, after ten more seconds, she nodded again.

"Please, my lord… baptize me."

Baptism wasn't merely a ceremony — it was a declaration. A public testament of obedience and faith. It was a covenant, a binding vow.

"Very well." Novia met Agrippina's elated gaze. "And… her affliction ends now. From this moment, her body belongs to me."

Agrippina's face froze. She had been certain only she knew the truth — that her daughter's illness was the result of her own poisons. How… how could this silver-haired boy possibly know? And yet… ultimately… the woman said nothing. She simply nodded.

As Novia left, he caught sight of Agrippina cradling Domitius's head, whispering incessantly:

"I love you… This is for your own good… Domitius… I love you… I love you so very much…"

A mother's loving words to her child — it should have been a heartwarming scene. But… the look in the "mother's" eyes was enough to chill anyone to the bone. Her gaze was pitch black, like a mire ready to devour everything.

The night deepened. The vast sky was beautiful and serene. The scenery spoke of the end of one day — but the new day would be something altogether different.

---

The next day, Agrippina was appointed Imperial Secretary.

On the third day, inside Novia's residence in Rome—

"Your Grace…"

"Begin."

Novia poured water from a bottle over the blonde girl's head. Domitius didn't flinch. Her expression remained calm, not even a hint of surprise. She simply tilted her head to listen.

Novia handed her the half-empty bottle. "Drink."

It was a crude baptism by normal standards — typically, one would be fully or partially immersed in water.

"What must you do now?"

Of course, Novia already knew the answer. He had personally taught her this.

In fact… he had been saving these words for a long time. Domitius was merely the first to hear them. But when the time came, this creed would spread far and wide.

"People once had ideals… and illusions. People found comfort… and humiliation. People stopped believing in others… and in themselves."

"As time passed, we came to understand the true value of truth. Though 'truth' can be cruel, a nation that faces reality is a mature nation. A people who face reality… are strong people."

"There is nothing in this world that moves people easily — except the call of justice."

The blonde girl recited each word carefully. These phrases were utterly different from the Christian teachings she had heard at home. But… she asked no questions.

"When you face the wronged and helpless… when you face the arrogant and oppressive… when you face the injustices that can shape a life… you must understand what price justice demands… what courage it requires."

"In such moments… perhaps all we can offer… is our blessing. To give the powerless strength… to help the despairing move forward… to let those walking onward keep walking… to make the happy even happier. And we… must never cease striving."

For reasons she couldn't explain, as she spoke, a deep joy welled up inside her. At the same time… an irrepressible admiration for Novia took root.

"There will always be a force that moves us to tears… always a force that compels us to stand tall… always a force that drives us to seek… justice, compassion, and conscience."

"That force resides in me… and in every living person on this earth."