Since I’m a Time-Limited Princess Who Has No Tomorrow - Chapter 51

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 51
‘After the purification ritual comes the next procedure: the offering ceremony. This is when gifts prepared by the royal family and the people are presented in order.’
And as part of the offering ceremony, the Crown Prince is scheduled to conduct a memorial rite for the departed. The memorial rite itself becomes the gift presented to the Dragon God of Yun.
‘Once the Crown Prince ascends the Altar of Heaven and begins reading the memorial address according to the rite’s procedures… that’s when the false black rain will manifest.’
It was a conspiracy that would have been extraordinarily difficult to contain had we not prepared for it.
What the Wan-eon Faction prepared to mimic the black rain was a creature called Geuseon-dae. Geuseon-dae originates from darkness like twilight spirits. However, unlike twilight spirits—which are so ambiguous that calling them creatures is itself confusing—Geuseon-dae possesses a tangible form and is an unmistakable monster that hides in shadows and devours humans.
‘Unlike twilight spirits that fall from the darkness of heaven, Geuseon-dae is born from the darkness of the earth, so they’re fundamentally different.’
A powerful Geuseon-dae can spread its shadow even in broad daylight, covering the surroundings and attacking people from within. While Geuseon-dae’s shadow functions as a hunting trap—distinctly different from the twilight spirit’s darkness that drives people mad—to terrified humans, the distinction hardly matters.
‘It’s a rare creature not easily obtained… but the Chief State Councillor subtly provided assistance.’
Just as with Se-ru-hwa’s assassination and the Fire Ghost in the East Palace, it seems certain that the Chief State Councillor commands quite exceptional supernatural beings.
‘Regardless, for An-si, who even beats down the Thousand-Year Fox, a creature like Geuseon-dae poses no real problem. Dealing with sorcerers is the Thousand-Year Fox’s specialty.’
The sorcerers among the Gwae-ryeok-nan-sin—those corresponding to the “chaos” character—are practitioners who use “sorcery” to mimic monsters’ techniques by wielding power absorbed from them.
Naturally, sorcerers are the most familiar with monsters among all supernatural beings, constantly hunting them, and sometimes even subduing or taming them to use like livestock. For the Thousand-Year Fox, who has lived a thousand years, they are beings encountered with such tiresome frequency.
‘They charge in to exorcise, they charge in to absorb demonic power, they charge in to tame… thanks to all that, the Thousand-Year Fox claimed expertise in dealing with sorcerers and asked to be assigned that task.’
So I decided to send An-si toward where Geuseon-dae was hiding, and Seok-ran toward the sorcerer who was preparing to release it.
‘Since I’ve observed the Left Prime Minister during every meeting, I already know all the locations. This way, we should be able to prevent the incident cleanly before it unfolds.’
Boom, boom, boom, boom—the drum resonated, and the ritual master’s proclamation rang out.
“The offering ceremony begins—!”
Palace attendants carried the royal gifts prepared in advance up the stairs in succession. Behind them, young nobles from aristocratic families began stacking gifts at the base of the Altar of Heaven. In the clearing below the hill, common people lined up and presented their own offerings on the mat guarded by ritual masters, then bowed in reverence.
Gifts imbued with prayers to the Celestial Deities. I could feel the sincerity and wishes contained within them rising to heaven like incense smoke.
‘The Incense Acceptance Officials must be busy today.’
In heaven, there are immortals called Incense Acceptance Officials who receive sacrifices offered to the gods. Since the deities are far too busy to personally attend to each offering, dedicated officials are appointed to handle them. Unlike me—a half-deity with no particular position and no worship in the Mortal Realm—famous deities with numerous offerings ascending from below often maintain multiple exclusive Incense Acceptance Officials.
As gifts accumulated, the Crown Prince’s hand, which I was holding, began to tremble. The memorial rite would soon begin, and he was growing nervous. Without speaking, I squeezed his hand firmly. The Crown Prince glanced back at me briefly and offered a faint smile.
The drum sounds faded. A gong struck once, loud and clear, and the King opened his mouth.
“…And today, we offer a special ceremony to honor innocent souls, so let the ritual master come forward.”
The ritual master cried out at the top of his voice.
“The memorial rite for the departed—!”
All eyes in the assembly, scattered moments before by the commotion of presenting gifts, suddenly converged. The Crown Prince, as the ritual master, released my hand and rose from his seat.
Today, the Crown Prince was not dressed in his usual crimson dragon robe. He wore a pure white mourning robe and a pure white crown—the highest formal mourning attire worn only during state funerals in the Un Kingdom. I had heard he dressed this way to demonstrate how profoundly meaningful and sincere the royal family’s commitment to this memorial rite was.
‘That’s why I’m wearing white formal court robes as well.’
The young Crown Prince, dressed in mourning garments, ascended the Altar of Heaven as the assembly fell silent.
‘…It’s oddly poignant.’
The sight of an eleven-year-old boy, still bearing the softness of childhood, dressed in mourning robes and serving as the ritual master approaching the altar was strangely bitter and intensely moving.
Though the black rain was a terrifying and horrific incident, it occurred at the Queen’s birthday celebration within the palace, an event attended only by nobility. Compared to the black rain that commoners had merely heard rumors of, the Crown Prince’s memorial rite honoring the victims was now unfolding before their very eyes.
‘This will certainly leave a far more vivid impression on the common people.’
Directly below the highest tier where the altar for the Dragon God of Yun was arranged, a felt mat was laid down and a table was placed upon it. A ritual master raised a white banner embroidered with “Memorial Rite for the Departed.”
“Incense—!”
Following the ritual master’s call, the Crown Prince lit the incense and bowed. As the boy rose, the ritual master announced the next procedure.
“The memorial address—!”
It was my turn. I received a tray containing the memorial address I had prepared in advance and ritual wine from the ritual master.
‘So heavy!’
It was fortunate I’d practiced with something similar beforehand. Otherwise, I might have panicked and dropped it. My arm trembled beneath the weight of the wine bottle, but I trusted the voluminous sleeves would conceal it well enough as I carefully approached the Crown Prince.
The Crown Prince nodded and picked up the memorial text from the tray.
“On the fifteenth day of the twelfth month of the thirteenth year of Seogwang, the Crown Prince of Yun, Cheon Gyeol-u, humbly reports to Heaven and the innocent spirits….”
The Crown Prince’s title, which had been changed to Black Lord, was restored to Cheon Gyeol-u the moment the King regained consciousness. His restored title was officially revealed at this ceremony.
The first step toward rebuilding what had crumbled. The Crown Prince kept his eyes lowered and read the memorial text with composure.
The child had written the memorial text himself and had it verified by the King and the Minister of Royal Decrees. No matter how intelligent, it was still a child’s writing, so the Crown Prince’s memorial text was simpler in expression than the ritual text the King had read. Because of this, it reached the people more intimately. And within that memorial text were also records and explanations of the “Black Lord” that had been the subject of endless speculation without official announcement.
“…The darkness bestowed upon me caused such harm to people. It was a form of divine affliction, and….”
At last, the full truth of the incident became known. The identity of what had been called a curse.
Cheeks flushed red from the cold winter wind. The mourning robes of the “Crown Prince” embroidered with dragons. A composure unbefitting a child. Yet a frame still unmistakably small and young. A voice trembling faintly with something between sorrow and fear. Yet a posture that bore it all with quiet dignity.
It was a sight far removed from the ominous tales of a curse that killed everyone nearby.
I could feel the observers holding their breath.
“…Though this did not occur by my will, it is true that this calamity happened because of me. I shall not forget that day. I mourn and apologize for the spirits of all those who have passed….”
Shoulders too small to bear the weight of human death. Yet somehow straightening, refusing to waver beneath that burden. A memorial text imbued with sincerity.
I could feel the hearts of the people shifting, little by little.
‘You’re doing well, little one.’
Observing the gazes directed toward the Crown Prince and the atmosphere of the assembly, I sensed instinctively that this memorial service was proceeding successfully.
‘If it ends without incident like this, the people’s sentiment toward the Crown Prince will change considerably.’
The Left Prime Minister’s faction must have known this too, which is why they plotted.
Holding the tray, I discreetly surveyed my surroundings.
‘By now, Geuseon-dae would normally have made an appearance….’
The surroundings remained peaceful and quiet. The sky was blue, and aside from the Crown Prince’s clear voice and the sound of the wind, nothing else could be heard.
‘An-si and Seok-ran must have handled it well.’
The only thing that was not peaceful was the Left Prime Minister’s eyebrows.
‘His eyebrows are twitching like mad. He must be wondering why nothing’s going wrong.’
An inappropriate laugh threatened to escape, but I suppressed it. Suppressing it wasn’t difficult—the moment I saw the Right Prime Minister’s face standing beside the Left Prime Minister, my laughter vanished entirely.
The Crown Prince finished reading the memorial text and began reciting the names inscribed on the memorial tablets one by one. The name of Lady Shim passed. The Right Prime Minister’s shoulders flinched. His expression was one that defied description.
Sorrow? Anger? Resentment? Longing? …A very small, fragile solace?
‘I cannot fathom what he feels.’
A bitter taste lingered on my tongue.
“Wine offering—!”
The next ritual. The Crown Prince received the cup with both hands. As I poured wine into it, he placed the cup before the memorial tablet and bowed. He offered a cup before each tablet. With each cup I filled, I silently offered prayers for their peace.
‘In the name of Princess Cheonmyeong.’
Thus I lightened the karmic burden accumulated by the Crown Prince. The gift I had promised to give him was safely conveyed without the child himself knowing.
[Your Highness!]
An-si’s voice reached me in the midst of it all.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————