Chapter 302 : Chapter 302

Chapter 302. His Life Is in Danger

“It ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍happened when the child was three years old.”

Was ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍this some kind of family counseling center?

Irritation ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍welled up within the Spirit of the Library.

Just ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍yesterday, the 2nd Prince had come whining pathetically, and now this man—claiming to be the maternal grandfather—had appeared out of nowhere and started boasting about his granddaughter.

“From ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍a very young age, Thea was exceptional. When she stretched one day, the bed broke apart. And when she was five, she beat a bear cub to death with her bare hands.”

Unlike ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍the Spirit of the Library, Radel listened to his story with genuine interest.

Count Alexius Kudente.

The commander of the Gale Knight Order that guarded the northern borders of the Cretian Empire, and the protector of the Kudente region.

The greatest swordsman of the age, and the only man said to stand on equal footing with mages.

They said his sword could cleave the sky and split the earth.

Yet even such a legendary swordsman was no different from a doting fool when speaking of his granddaughter.

“In any case, this is what Thea made for me back then with her tiny hands.”

Alexius pulled a small ornament from his chest.

It was such a clumsy animal figurine that it was hard to tell at a glance what it was meant to be.

Even the Spirit of the Library, who could browse all records in the world, could not tell what it was supposed to represent.

That the great spirit could not identify something.

He frowned and muttered,

“……Is it a wolf?”

Radel immediately corrected him.

“Anyone can tell that is a cat. What are you talking about?”

How was that a cat?

No matter how generously one looked at it, it barely resembled a puppy.

However, upon hearing Radel’s words, a strange light entered Alexius’s eyes.

“……You recognized it instantly.”

What?

The Spirit of the Library was dumbfounded.

Ignoring him, Alexius slowly stroked his chin with an impressed expression.

“You have an excellent eye. Just as Thea said.”

‘An eye for what, exactly?’

The Spirit of the Library stared in disbelief.

Surely that faint scratch of whiskers was not supposed to be proof of a cat……?

The Spirit of the Library could not understand it, but to them, it clearly looked like a cat.

‘I can smell a swordsman.’

Alexius’s gaze deepened.

From the moment he entered the counseling tent, he had been gauging Radel’s level.

The position of his sword, the calluses embedded in his hands.

A restrained presence that ordinary mages never possessed.

A true swordsman was different even in how he stood.

‘Always ready to draw his blade. A fine swordsman.’

Like Shartea, Alexius was generous in his evaluation of swordsmen.

Moreover, his granddaughter had personally taught Radel swordsmanship.

When he first heard that story from Shartea, Alexius’s heart had quickened despite himself.

Another blade-wielding royal, no less.

There was a reason he had sought out the 8th Prince.

Though he refused even to speak with royals steeped in magic supremacism, a sword-wielding royal was another matter entirely.

“A good swordsman must have accurate eyes. That earns my trust. I think it is time I shared my concern.”

After a brief pause, Alexius spoke.

“I wish to stop my grandson.”

He added gravely,

“If this continues, that boy’s life will be in danger.”

***

Three hours before the end of the Autumn Festival.

In a secluded corner of the academy crowded with people, the executives of the Black Order had gathered.

Before putting the plan into action, Kier Iern had summoned them one last time.

Kier spoke calmly,

“Today is the day.”

Yet excitement he could not conceal flickered across his face.

“Today! After a long wait, our lord will finally descend.”

Kier clenched his fist.

It truly had been a long time.

How many years had he endured for his master, Leviathan?

Starting from the very bottom, he became a follower of the 4th Princess, earned her trust, and gathered Keys of Seal wherever he could, corrupting countless souls.

All for this day.

More precisely, for the resurrection of Lord Leviathan.

Each soul he corrupted strengthened Leviathan.

Now, with only one final sacrifice remaining, Leviathan could descend upon the Middle Realm.

‘When that happens, this wretched world will end.’

The end of the world.

That was what Kier desired.

Then all those who had looked down on him would vanish.

The people of his family.

His father.

His mother.

His half-siblings.

The nobles who pointed fingers behind his back.

Even that foolish 4th Princess!

“A new world will come. A true world where all despicable beings are erased. A world where there is no need for hypocrisy or masks. Brothers, is darkness truly wrong? Is evil truly a sin?”

Kier asked the executives.

They responded in fervent voices.

“No. Evil is humanity’s true nature!”

“Goodness is the real lie!”

“What sin? Is living by instinct a sin?!”

As the executives of the Black Order answered, Kier nodded.

“Exactly. Once our lord arrives, he will set the order of this land right. We will no longer need to reject the darkness within us. We will indulge freely and take freely. We will no longer need to care about the eyes of humans pretending to be virtuous. There will be no pain, no misery.”

Kier whispered with satisfaction.

“Because we will be their pain and misery.”

The executives bared their teeth in laughter.

The atmosphere had reached a fever pitch.

“So do not hesitate. The new world requires much blood. More souls, more sacrifices. The more you offer, the more our lord will remember you. Do you not look forward to the sacred glory of standing by his side?”

“We do.”

“Glory to our lord!”

The executives chattered excitedly, imagining the world on the brink of collapse.

All except one.

There was a man with a darkened expression.

Gillian, the servant of Asmodeus.

He stood there with a haggard face, as though his soul had been drained over the past few days.

Kier was not the type to miss such a detail.

Had he not failed to bring the pouch containing the cursed stone at the previous meeting as well?

He had been told clearly to take care of it, as it was a crucial element of the plan.

Kier approached Gillian and asked,

“Did you bring the pouch?”

Gillian’s expression stiffened.

The pouch that had been taken by the 8th Prince.

The humiliation he had suffered because of it came rushing back.

Seeing Gillian’s face, Kier’s gaze turned vicious.

Only a few hours remained until their lord’s resurrection.

To show suspicious behavior at such a critical moment.

Kier’s patience ran out.

He could no longer tolerate it.

Just as his hand, filled with killing intent, reached toward Gillian—

“……I brought it.”

From Gillian’s hesitant embrace emerged something.

A pouch engraved with a curse formula.

After checking it, Kier warned him,

“Do not forget that you have no room for distractions. If you interfere with the plan, I will not stay my hand.”

After Kier left, Gillian stared down at the pouch in his hand.

‘That foolish 8th Prince.’

Even knowing this was his weakness, the 8th Prince had returned it.

That was not all.

The 8th Prince had not reported his identity to the temple.

Instead, he simply dragged him around and worked him to death.

What was he thinking?

How much did he know?

Gillian could not read the 8th Prince’s intentions.

The reason he had not fled immediately was simple.

He knew that if he returned without the pouch, Kier would kill him.

Yet the appointed time with Kier was drawing near.

If he did not attend the executives’ gathering, he would die.

Even without the pouch, he would die.

In just a little while, the world would end.

But before that, Gillian was destined to die branded as a traitor.

He briefly considered throwing caution to the wind and attacking the 8th Prince……

But seeing how every ambush prepared the day before had failed, the odds of reclaiming the pouch were slim.

At the peak of his inner conflict, the impossible happened.

‘Please take it.’

The 8th Prince extended the pouch toward him.

Gillian was thrown into confusion.

‘……Why?’

There was no way the prince did not know Gillian would flee the moment he received it.

Yet the 8th Prince’s expression was utterly calm.

‘Is it not something you need?’

‘N-no, that is not what I mean……?’

In truth, even when he had been captured and interrogated, Gillian had found it strange.

He had not revealed any meaningful information, yet the 8th Prince released him without resistance.

The only threat had been to show up at the Integrated Major booth the next day.

‘Actions speak louder than words.’

What did that mean?

Gillian could not understand the 8th Prince’s words.

Perhaps because of that, the phrase lingered in his mind no matter what he did.

Actions over words.

Finally realizing something, Gillian’s face twisted.

“……So that is why you said there was no need to listen to my words.”

Thinking back, the 8th Prince had never listened to his testimony from the start.

Even knowing he was a heretic, he had simply told him to come work at the Integrated Major booth.

A demon worshiper.

A heretic who sold his soul.

Yet he had been allowed to work at his side without hesitation.

The 8th Prince neither despised nor feared him.

He judged only Gillian’s actions.

Because he worked well, because he was useful, he had been dragged along to the Integrated Major booth.

‘He trusted me from the beginning.’

Trust.

Though he had sold his soul to a demon, he was still a priest.

He knew how great a thing trust could be.

‘He trusted me.’

Gillian’s pupils trembled as he stared down at the pouch.

***

“Where did he go?”

Inette noticed that Gillian had disappeared from the Integrated Major booth.

He had vanished while she was away at the Combat Magic booth.

But Radel looked unconcerned.

“Who?”

“That…… that priest from yesterday!”

Inette had clearly seen the eyes of a heretic.

The inverted pentagram she had only heard about.

An ominous symbol of demon worship.

It was a situation where even reporting him to the inquisitors immediately would not have been enough.

Yet Radel had calmly blackmailed him, then let the priest go.

He had even put him to work.

Inette had assumed he would eventually be sent to the temple.

“He said he had somewhere to go, so I let him.”

“Are you insane? What if he runs away like this?”

Even knowing his face and name, catching a demon worshiper who truly fled was difficult.

There were still many curses and dark spells they used that remained unknown.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous they are? What are you even thinking? Even now, we should tell the Supreme Deity Order—”

“It would be a waste to send him off like that.”

“What?”

As Inette jumped up, Radel shrugged.

“People who work that well are rare.”

Then he ran off, saying the fried chicken stall was short-handed.

Left behind, Inette asked Gusto with a dumbfounded expression,

“Do you really think this makes sense?”

“You already know what my answer will be. His Highness the Prince……”

“Yes, yes, I know! He must have his reasons! Ugh, this is so frustrating!”

No matter how much Inette grumbled, Gusto’s eyes were filled with trust.

“You will see soon enough.”