Episode 47
“He’s been dumping work on me all this time, so isn’t it about time he handled things himself? Sure, I’m the heir to the countship, but he’s the actual count.”
Cheshire was speechless.
His logic was so airtight she couldn’t find a single point to argue.
Inside her bag, Hata squirmed restlessly.
He, too, seemed rattled by this unexpected crisis.
Cheshire, inwardly panicking, asked, “So you’re going to stick with me the whole time?”
“Only until the Little Saints’ Prayer Assembly begins,” Belzeon replied calmly, continuing, “You’re bound to get caught eventually. You can’t evade the Count’s eyes forever.”
She couldn’t disagree.
“So the goal is to buy time until the Prayer Assembly. If I go with you myself, it might delay your capture a bit longer.”
It wasn’t a completely impulsive decision after all.
He’d clearly thought it through, weighing various angles before making his move.
Indeed, no one else he could assign would be as effective as Belzeon himself accompanying her.
Plus, his absence would cause a backlog of work at the Basilian estate.
Even Kierne couldn’t ignore the piling duties, which would limit his ability to act.
*Ugh…*
Cheshire’s escape and evasion plans had crumbled spectacularly.
She had no excuse to shake Belzeon off, and as a toddler, she needed to live with someone’s help for now.
*Fine. We’ll travel together for a bit.*
Resolving herself, she extended her hand to him.
“Then I’m counting on you.”
Belzeon didn’t immediately take her outstretched hand.
Only after she felt a twinge of embarrassment did he grasp it.
Lifting her up again, he climbed into the carriage.
He quietly closed the door and tapped the rickety wooden panel connecting to the driver’s seat.
The dozing coachman finally stirred, grabbing the reins.
Perhaps because of the elderly driver, the carriage moved at a maddeningly slow pace.
For someone needing to flee quickly, it was frustrating.
Still, she trusted Belzeon had his reasons for choosing this carriage and stayed quiet.
*Clop, clop.*
The sound of hooves striking the well-paved stone road echoed through the quiet dawn.
Cheshire gazed at the Basilian estate, now growing distant.
It was a place she’d grown somewhat fond of.
Unlike the grim snake’s castle, this townhouse was beautifully and elegantly decorated, making it all the more memorable.
She’d likely return to the capital someday, and when she did, she could at least glimpse it from afar…
“…?”
Lost in wistful thoughts, staring at the townhouse, Cheshire sensed something off.
Belzeon, seated across from her, was rummaging inside his robe.
It was… how to put it… distinctly unsettling.
He pulled out an object that looked suspiciously like a detonator.
A magical device capable of remotely triggering an explosive.
*No way, I’m imagining things.*
But Belzeon promptly proved her fears were all too real.
He pressed the button with a *click*.
After a brief silence—
*BOOM!*
A deafening explosion tore through the tranquil dawn.
The west wing of the townhouse, where Cheshire’s brief memories resided, collapsed entirely, flames erupting in an instant.
The startled coachman struggled to calm the rearing horses.
Spooked by the blast, the horses bolted at a pace that could rival racehorses.
What had been a leisurely carriage ride now turned into a desperate escape from the capital.
The culprit behind this dawn nightmare casually crushed the detonator in his hand.
Tossing the broken pieces out of the carriage, Belzeon said matter-of-factly, “The cleanup will make pursuit difficult until tomorrow.”
Cheshire stared at him, resolving firmly, *I must never mess with Belzeon…*
She finally understood why the twins obeyed him so meekly.
“Master.”
Zahar approached swiftly.
The air reeked of blood.
Kierne stood with his sword hanging loosely at his side.
At his feet, dark shadows writhed as if alive.
He rarely used his demonic sword outside the east.
Most matters he handled with magic or delegated to others.
But today was taxing enough to warrant drawing his blade.
“Haa…” Kierne muttered in an irritated tone. “It never ends.”
He stepped around the remains of what had once been human, sloshing at his feet.
Blood dripped from Zahar’s whip as he followed.
Someone had leaked information.
Precise, accurate information, which meant he’d spent the entire day fending off assassins.
This level of betrayal could only come from someone close.
He didn’t know who, but he vowed to find them and make them pay.
As he swept his long coat and moved to the next area, a figure cloaked in black from head to toe appeared out of thin air.
“Master. Urgent news.”
Kierne fixed the man with a cold stare.
The next words made him swallow a bitter laugh.
“The estate is on fire.”
“Zahar, get the twins.”
He issued the order and, without waiting for a reply, teleported to the estate with magic.
Despite the late hour, the streets were as bright as day.
The Basilian estate was engulfed in flames.
Servants and the capital’s security forces were frantically working to extinguish the fire.
Kierne scanned the crowd.
Not finding who he sought, he headed into the estate without hesitation.
“Hey, wait! My lord!” Voices tried to stop him, but he ignored them.
A twisted smile played on his lips as he strode through the searing corridors.
Despite the massive fire, there were no casualties.
The blaze had started precisely when the west wing was empty.
The fire spread slowly enough for everyone inside to escape.
Such perfectly timed circumstances couldn’t be a coincidence.
And that wasn’t all.
The fire pinned Kierne down.
With dozens of people gathered, he couldn’t use dark magic.
Plus, dealing with the aftermath would keep him tied up.
It was a brilliantly executed move.
He now knew who’d leaked information to the assassins.
*Belzeon.*
Truly a son fit to rule the Black Forest.
“You’d better not make me too angry…”
Muttering to himself, Kierne stopped before Cheshire’s bedroom.
He kicked the door open with a *bang*.
“Cheshire,” he called softly.
No answer came.
The bedroom, untouched by the flames, was empty.
Kierne stood motionless in the silent room, abandoned by its occupant.
Until the fire reached him.
Only when crimson flames licked at his vision did he snap out of it.
A slow smile spread across his expressionless face.
A glint flickered in his red eyes, and the room’s shadows began to writhe ominously.
Darkness surged, spreading rapidly through the bedroom.
The raging flames withered powerlessly upon touching it.
An eerie chill, out of place in the burning estate, enveloped everything.
Kierne let out a short, hollow laugh, his smile cold.
“Where’s my daughter?”
