Catgirls And Dungeons-Chapter 274: Alter’s decision

"Your Highness, you can't!"

The general under Alter's command stepped forward, his voice breaking through the stunned silence, begging the Cursed Princess to reconsider her decision to turn herself in.

Everyone understood what the angel's decree truly meant.

It spoke of judgment, of a trial before the Heavenly Court. It was phrased carefully, wrapped in hollow mercy, as though the Cursed Princess might yet return if she proved herself not to be a threat to the Divine above.

But… that was a lie.

It didn't take much intelligence to know that there would be no trial.

Only death awaited Alter in Aphaeleon.

Because that had always been the way of the Celestial Kingdoms—cloaking their cruelty in righteousness, parading justice while practicing tyranny. They spoke of balance and order, yet erased anything that did not fit neatly into their grand design.

Meanwhile, Ventaria no longer seemed to need them.

Under Alter's command, the kingdom's army had grown terrifyingly strong. For two centuries, they had repelled even the most dangerous demonic invasions without calling upon angelic aid. Not once.

Before her time, it had been different.

Desperate prayers went unanswered, requests for reinforcements were ignored, and when the angels did descend, they often arrived too late—after cities had burned, after fields had turned to ash, after the dead already lay in heaps.

Yet the tribute never stopped. Every five years, it grew heavier. Every time the messenger came, they demanded more gold, more relics.

And in return?

Nothing.

It was a fucking rip-off.

And of course, Alter knew this better than anyone.

"So… they've finally decided to do it, huh?" she muttered under her breath.

Long ago, her mentor Azraphael had warned her. If she continued to grow stronger, if Ventaria continued to flourish under her command, then one day—even the Heavens would take notice.

Not out of gratitude, but fear.

A kingdom that no longer needed divine protection was dangerous. A mortal realm that could stand on its own was unacceptable. And a princess who carried both a demonic curse and overwhelming strength?

Unforgivable.

She was like a thorn in their eyes, one they only wished to destroy, to nip in the bud.

Yet Alter had never once thought of rebellion.

She had never sought to challenge the Celestial Kingdoms, never dreamed of defying them.

All she had ever wanted… was to protect her people.

And now, for that alone, they had decided she must die.

****

In the end, the decree had been spoken. There was little left to argue.

"Enough!" Alter said at last, her voice cutting cleanly through the protests of her generals.

"Your Highness, you cannot seriously intend to obey them!" the general, Raphael, insisted, stepping forward. "We will not let the Heavens take you away, no matter what! We were never afraid of the demons—then why the fuck do we have to be afraid of those feathery bastards?!"

"Raphael!" Alter's tone sharpened. "Do you even understand what you are saying?"

As the Princess's eyes fixed him with a stern glare, silence fell, and everyone froze.

If she refused… if she defied the Heavenly Court… then divine wrath would descend upon Ventaria.

And when the Heavens chose to punish, they would not strike gently.

Alter knew that.

There was an old tale:

Long ago, there had been a flourishing world that dared to rise beyond its place. Its people were brilliant, ambitious, and fearless. Using their ancient technology, they built towers so tall they pierced the clouds, cities made of gold, and even trained warriors with divine powers.

But of course, the Celestial Kingdoms did not like that.

They saw it as arrogance, a challenge to their authority.

And so, in a single night, the sky split open, fire rained down. The towers shattered, the land was reduced to ash.

No kingdom remained there now, only ruins swallowed by sand.

All they had to do was claim that the ruler of such a kingdom had secretly made a pact with the evil gods.

Alter knew that story well. She would not allow Ventaria to become another cautionary tale.

"Anyway," she exhaled a heavy sigh, "I always knew this day would come eventually. I just… did not expect it to arrive so soon."

Two hundred years of war… Two centuries of strengthening the kingdom.

Perhaps she had grown too visible.

She turned away from her generals.

"Prepare the teleportation array," she ordered quietly. "I need to see my wife."

Just once more, she wanted to see Morvena before she go.

"Yes… Your Highness," Raphael answered, his voice thick with restrained emotion.

****

Later, at Luminaris…

This academy had long since ceased to function as a place of learning. It had been repurposed, transformed into a powerful seal to contain Morvena.

The blue-haired princess now lay sleeping inside the central sanctum, chained by divine restraints. Her chest was pierced by five sealing swords, each one radiating holy energy that kept the demonic curse from consuming her completely.

Alter stepped through the rain. Her boots splashed through puddles, her cloak soaked and heavy against her shoulders as she made her way toward Morvena.

Her face remained calm, composed as always. And yet, her heart was unbearably heavy.

Because today would be the last.

The rain fell harder, as if the heavens themselves mourned what was to come.

When she finally stood beside her wife, she reached out with a trembling hand and carefully caressed Morvena's face. Her skin was cold, lifeless, yet still achingly beautiful. Alter's fingers traced the delicate line of her jaw, brushed a stray lock of blue hair from her forehead.

Then, she leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Morvena's brow.

"I'm sorry… my dearest wife," she whispered, her voice cracking despite her best efforts. "It looks like this is the end for me."

Her breath hitched.

"If there's reincarnation… then I wish we could still be together. In another life. In a world kinder than this one."

Tears fell, tracing slow paths down her cheeks before dripping down to the ground.

Alter then straightened, taking a step back. Her hand moved to the hilt of her sword, fingers wrapping around the familiar grip. The blade slid free with a soft ring of steel, gleaming even in the dim, rain-soaked light.

She held it before her eyes, staring at the reflection of her own face in the polished metal.

And as she was doing that, her lips trembled, her heart felt like it might burst from the unbearable pain swelling inside her chest.

Because now, she had to do the thing she must do.

Kill Morvena, before she turned herself in tomorrow.

After all, once Alter died, there would be no one left to search for the cure anymore. There's no point keeping her alive, no reason for her to suffer anymore.

If Morvena had to die… it should be by Alter's hand.

A mercy.

A final act of love.

Alter walked forward with the drawn blade, ready to strike.

But then, just as she was about to do it…

"Wait! Great Aunt!!!" a voice cried out.

She froze.

When she turned back, she saw three familiar figures approaching through the rain.

Leading the group was a tall Cat Furren man clad in a regal cloak and cape, a greatsword strapped across his back and a shining crown resting upon his head.

Beside him ran a Cat Furren woman dressed in matching regal attire, her expression filled with alarm.

And behind them was Alter's mentor, Azraphael—a tall, striking woman with rich brown skin and a single wing folded neatly behind her back.