Episode 61
It was a peculiar gathering.
The empire’s duke, Selea Fron Ivroiel, who was sixty but appeared in her thirties.
The holy knight of the First Order from the Holy Empire of Hilderd, Hailon.
And Kierne Basilian, the master of the underworld and a brilliant black mage, yet pretending to be a powerless count.
These individuals, each with much to hide, had come together for a midnight tea time.
The temple’s bishop seemed eager to join the conversation, but Selea cut him off with a single stroke.
The archbishop, apparently quite curious, personally brewed and served the tea.
He lingered so much that Selea nearly kicked his backside.
Kicking a bishop’s rear would have been troublesome even for a duke, so it was fortunate he narrowly departed.
A steaming teapot and cups filled with floral tea were set down.
But no one touched them.
The atmosphere suggested no one would sip the tea, so Selea simply picked up the teapot and poured only into her own cup.
Glug.
The tea pouring into the cup took on a pale green hue.
Satisfied with the clear color and aroma, Selea smiled faintly.
She took a sip and gazed at the two men before her.
“……”
In the silence, the two men stared at each other with murderous glares, making one wonder why they hadn’t drawn swords yet.
Selea moistened her throat with the warm tea and reflected on recent events.
After the countess’s death.
Kierne’s mind had weakened considerably.
For a black mage who relied on strong willpower to control and suppress his power, it was a fatal injury.
Yet her disciple’s innate disposition was cold, allowing him to mask his wound with a veneer.
He objectively assessed his state, precisely gauged his limits, and wielded his power accordingly.
Easier said than done—handling such an ill-defined “power” with precision was already monstrous territory.
It was a ruthlessly impressive display that made Selea click her tongue.
‘But earlier…’
Selea recalled Kierne’s extreme instability.
It was a moment when Kierne, who had masterfully worn his mask since the countess’s death, nearly revealed his depths.
If Belzeon hadn’t arrived in time, Selea would have struck Kierne herself.
Left unchecked, he would have unleashed black magic right in the temple swarming with holy knights and priests.
She was dumbfounded at the sight of the disgustingly clever fool acting so stupidly.
‘Has he already given his heart to that adopted child?’
The outburst at the word “leaving”…
But beyond that, seeing the child lean on that holy knight seemed to flip his lid.
‘Always so jealous.’
She couldn’t help recalling old times.
The disposition that sullenly investigated anyone the late countess smiled at or spoke to for too long at balls hadn’t changed.
Inwardly clicking her tongue, Selea slurped her tea and shifted her gaze.
Kierne aside, the real problem was.
‘This man right here.’
The man who introduced himself as a holy knight of the First Order.
With his pristine silver hair and blue eyes, Hailon embodied the ideal holy knight’s appearance.
His vibe was the polar opposite of Kierne’s, making their side-by-side presence intriguing.
The reason such a high-ranking First Order holy knight appeared out of nowhere in the peaceful capital of the Palen Empire was simple.
To serve as escort for the Little Saints’ Prayer Assembly.
She had heard other imperial nobles participating also had high-order holy knights as escorts.
Selea narrowed her eyes and stared at Hailon.
After the chaotic situation passed and she examined him calmly, he grew increasingly suspicious.
‘No matter how I think about it, he’s not just a holy knight.’
Those with power recognized each other.
Their immense strength inevitably leaked some aura, even when concealed.
Yet occasionally, there were chilling exceptions.
Those who flawlessly organized their aura.
With aura organized, opponents could only sense strength, not its extent.
It was tedious and tricky work, so Selea didn’t bother.
She flaunted her power openly.
Not just her—most powerhouses did the same.
Pride in strength, after all.
Selea had seen exactly two people obsessively organize their aura: one was Kierne…
The other was this self-proclaimed holy knight before her.
Being a First Order holy knight guaranteed immense prowess.
It was possible for someone strong enough to conceal aura to belong there.
But her accumulated wisdom and intuition screamed.
‘That bastard’s shady.’
It wasn’t just the aura that fueled her suspicion.
Hailon differed from every holy knight she’d met.
Of course, his appearance stood out from ordinary knights, but that was secondary.
Hailon reeked of blood.
Blood stained his hands for so long it seeped into his soul.
And those cold blue eyes too.
The seemingly cool blue pupils weren’t cold at all.
They were simply uninterested in anything.
[Have pity on the weak and bestow good deeds.]
The first line of the vow holy knights swore before God and the Holy King.
How a being indifferent to all, unknowing of compassion, became a holy knight puzzled Selea.
Honestly, this man didn’t suit a holy knight.
He fit far better in roles needing no mercy or pity.
For example.
‘Like an inquisitor.’
Selea downed the remaining tea in one gulp.
Otherwise, she might spew vulgar curses.
Assuming he was an inquisitor connected everything seamlessly.
She knew the perceptive bastards would eventually catch Kierne’s black magic tail.
But facing the reality now filled her with dread.
Selea didn’t want to see her late-life joy, her disciple, executed by an inquisitor.
Though he walked the wrong path of black magic, still…
“Master, it’s Kierne.”
The boyhood Kierne flickered in her mind.
She wanted to save her disciple, who still felt so young to her.
As Selea alternated gazes between the two men, pondering solutions.
Abruptly, without warning, Kierne spoke up.
“Sir Hailon.”
Unlike Hailon, seated upright in his chair without a flaw, Kierne—who had sprawled against the sofa back—slowly straightened.
“What did my daughter say to you? That she hates me?”
In this grave situation, asking such a childish question.
Selea had to restrain the urge to smack his mouth.
But Hailon was no different from Kierne.
“Nothing.”
At the curt reply, Kierne’s gaze darkened.
Meeting those sinking red eyes, Hailon repeated coldly.
“The child said nothing about you. No sign of missing you either.”
“……”
“She fled from you—it’s only natural.”
Their eyes clashed.
Amid the glaring, Hailon continued slowly.
“The temple has a duty to protect the weak.”
Selea gripped her empty teacup, waiting for his words.
And Hailon inevitably scratched Kierne raw.
“Thus, I intend to raise the child in the temple from now on.”
