Chapter 141
The final day of prayer at the Little Saints’ Prayer Assembly ended in utter chaos.
The participants had blown their last chance to flaunt their piety.
Yet, few felt any regret.
After all, they’d witnessed a spectacle from the front row that money couldn’t buy.
The Holy Knight Hailon, who wielded the sacred relic ‘Chains of Condemnation,’ turned out to be the leader of the Inquisitors.
Cardinal Milliord, who had basked in the Holy King’s utmost trust, was the mastermind behind the horrific incident that allowed demons to run rampant in Hilderd.
And the one who provided the decisive testimony exposing this ugly truth was Cheshire Basilian.
On top of her feat of repelling the demons with a shower of holy, beautiful flowers, she had now uncovered the culprit behind it all.
The baby once merely known as ‘the adopted child of the Basilian family’ was now making her name known across the continent.
The Little Saints’ Prayer Assembly had only the selection of the winner left.
But even if a winner emerged, they wouldn’t garner as much attention as Cheshire Basilian.
And Milliord, who had been used as fuel to elevate Cheshire Basilian’s shine, was currently imprisoned in the underground dungeon of the Holy Empire.
It was the very solitary cell where Kierne Basilian had been locked up with his daughter.
Thanks to his status as a cardinal, he had been placed here first, but once Count Basilian submitted the evidence, he would be stripped of his cardinal rank and dragged to the Inquisition chamber.
“Damn it, curse it all…”
Milliord paced the cell, muttering vulgar curses under his breath.
Back when he’d fabricated a fake biological father for the adopted child, Milliord had believed he’d orchestrated a brilliant scheme.
He’d thought he was manipulating everyone like pieces on a chessboard.
But facing reality now, he realized he’d been dancing in the palm of Count Basilian’s hand from start to finish.
“I’m the Master.”
The words Count Basilian had uttered still echoed in his ears like a hallucination.
Milliord shook his head violently.
‘No. It could be a lie. Logically, the underworld Master joining hands with the Inquisitors makes no sense.’
It was just a casual remark thrown out to toy with him, without any solid proof.
It was only right to dismiss it as false…
But if he assumed Count Basilian was the Master, everything fell perfectly into place.
‘His declaration of non-participation was clearly meant to mock me too.’
Because the Basilian family had announced they wouldn’t attend the Little Saints’ Prayer Assembly, Milliord had hurriedly contacted the underworld to create a fake Master.
If the count truly was the Master, framing Milliord’s actions as contact with black mages would have been child’s play.
Looking back now, Count Basilian had subtly provoked every step of the process.
Unaware that he was walking straight into the gaping maw of a snake, Milliord had excitedly scampered about on his own.
‘Did Sir Hailon know he was the Master and still join hands with him? Or… What about Norman? He was personally blessed by the Holy King, so pinning crimes on me through him would be difficult.’
As Milliord pondered until his head felt like it would burst, he finally let out a groan, unable to contain his rage.
“Ugh…!”
In the empty prison, only his sigh echoed forlornly before fading away.
In the end, the Holy King had abandoned Milliord.
He’d dumped all the sins they’d committed together squarely on him.
Even if he found some way to escape…
The Holy King would personally dispose of him.
Milliord’s life was over.
It was while he clutched his head in despair.
The sound of approaching footsteps reached him—light, pattering steps.
They belonged to two people.
“…?”
Milliord doubted his eyes.
Beyond the iron bars stood two young boys.
They were the twin sons of Count Basilian, who had plunged Milliord into the abyss.
With guards and knights surely present, how had they made it here?
Their utterly nonchalant, innocent faces seemed unreal.
The twins stood before the bars, staring blatantly at Milliord.
It was a humiliating gaze, like they were observing an animal in a zoo.
Yet Milliord couldn’t bring himself to snap at the young boys.
“Mister.”
The boy standing in a slouched posture tilted his head and asked.
“Should we get you out?”
Gulp.
Milliord swallowed dryly without realizing it.
Then the other boy furrowed his brows slightly and said.
“Did you get your tongue cut out from torture? Why aren’t you answering?”
The boy, pretty enough to be mistaken for a girl, glanced around the gloomy prison interior with disdain.
As if he didn’t want to stay even a moment longer, he snapped irritably.
“Decide quickly. We don’t have time.”
Milliord couldn’t fathom why they’d come to him offering to free him.
He knew he shouldn’t trust anyone from the Basilian family.
‘But it’s better than being tortured to death in the Inquisition chamber.’
Milliord cried out desperately to the twins.
“Get me out…!”
The corners of the twins’ mouths curled up in identical smirks.
One boy reached out and grabbed Milliord.
Soon, his vision distorted.
They had cast a teleportation spell.
And when his vision cleared again.
Before Milliord stood Count Basilian.
He was positioned in front of a large window, silhouetted against the moon, checking a silver pocket watch.
Tick, tick—the sound of the watch hands moving struck his ears with unusual clarity.
A glance outside the window revealed not the Holy Empire, but an ordinary street.
While Milliord rolled his eyes, surveying his surroundings, the count pocketed the watch and smiled warmly.
Facing the chillingly handsome man, Milliord asked.
“Are you… going to kill me?”
“Of course not.”
As if wondering why he’d say such a thing, the count widened his eyes before letting out a soft chuckle.
“You’re far too useful to waste.”
His red eyes flickered with an eerie light.
The count bit the tip of his finger lightly with his teeth and slowly peeled off his black leather glove.
His fingers, pale in the moonlight, were long and straight.
Like coaxing an innocent child, Count Basilian spoke in a gentle voice.
“You’re good at following orders, aren’t you?”
The twin brothers giggled.
But Milliord couldn’t turn around.
As if fixed in place by some force, his gaze was locked on Count Basilian.
Snap—the light sound of fingers clicking together.
Upon hearing the finger snap, Milliord blankly parted his lips.
The focus vanished from his eyes.
He slowly knelt on the floor.
And before his new master, he bowed his head respectfully.
“…Yes, my lord.”
All the men of the Basilian family had vacated the premises.
Having caused the major scandal of accusing Cardinal Milliord of heresy, they were understandably swamped.
Cheshire took advantage of their absence to go out.
Last time she’d snuck out without a word and returned in Hailon’s arms, it had caused quite a commotion.
But this time, it wasn’t an illicit outing—it was legitimate.
She was taking Theo to meet Princess Aran.
‘I even got permission from Kierne in advance, saying I was going to meet a friend!’
Of course, it wasn’t free; in exchange, she promised to ‘play with Daddy all day later’ and gave him a few kisses too.
Cheshire, having packed her things diligently, climbed onto Theo’s shoulder.
“Let’s go!”
“Yes, Lady Cheshire.”
The bear-like man moved briskly at her command.
Seated comfortably on his broad shoulders as they headed to their destination, Cheshire glanced down at Theo.
“……”
Normally, he would have initiated conversation with all sorts of chit-chat.
But today, Theo kept his mouth shut and just walked silently.
‘Bear’s acting weird.’
Wondering why, she scrutinized his face and noticed his drooping eyebrows, a clear sign of dejection.
‘Did someone bully him?’
Thinking someone had scolded her bear again, she narrowed her eyes.
“Lady!”
A group of passing Holy Knights came rushing over.
They were the ones she’d seen at the training grounds when visiting Hailon.
Cheshire greeted them familiarly.
“Hewwo!”
“Ugh.”
The Holy Knight who received the greeting clutched his chest and staggered dramatically.
They surrounded Cheshire, clamoring for her to greet them too.
“No flowers today… Lady, want this?”
One even pulled a bag of cookies from his pocket and offered it.
Cheshire accepted the tribute with satisfaction.
“I’ll eat it well.”
After hanging out with them for a bit.
Left alone with Theo again, Cheshire opened the cookie bag.
She took out one cookie and pressed it firmly against Theo’s cheek.
Theo, who had been walking straight ahead, flinched in surprise.
His massive body shook, nearly causing Cheshire to slip.
Startled twice over, he hurriedly steadied her.
“…Lady Cheshire?”
Having slid down from his broad shoulder to sit on his thick forearm, Cheshire held out the cookie to him again.
“Eat this together.”
Theo stared blankly at the cookie, then suddenly scrunched up his face.
As if holding something back, he wrinkled his nose deeply and said.
“I have a request, Lady Cheshire. When we return to the Palen Empire…”
Theo took a deep breath and continued.
“Could you perhaps visit the Nemean Marquisate?”
