Chapter 47
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Chapter 47
"You've been dumping all the work on me until now, so shouldn't I handle things alone for once? No matter how much I'm the heir to inherit the title, you're still the Count."
"...."
The logic was so sound that I had no grounds to refute it.
Hata stirred restlessly inside the bag.
Hata too seemed quite flustered by this unexpected crisis.
Chesa, who had been anxiously fidgeting, asked him a question.
"So you'll keep wandering around like this?"
"Only until the Pure Child Prayer Ceremony begins."
Belzeon continued calmly.
"I'll be caught eventually anyway. The Count's eyes cannot be evaded forever."
Chesa agreed with that assessment.
"So the goal is to buy time until the Pure Child Prayer Ceremony. If I accompany you directly, it might delay the moment I'm caught a bit longer."
It wasn't entirely impulsive after all.
He was making calculations from various angles and assessing the situation before acting.
Certainly, no matter who else was assigned, Belzeon's direct involvement in accompanying Chesa would be incomparable.
Moreover, if Belzeon were absent, the affairs of House of Basilian would fall behind.
Kieran couldn't completely ignore the mounting work either, so his range of movement would be constrained in multiple ways.
'Ugh....'
The escape and flight plan Chesa had devised completely crumbled.
But I had no justification to separate Belzeon, and besides, I had to survive for a while longer in this infant form.
'There's no choice. Let's travel together for now.'
Having made her decision, Chesa extended her hand to Belzeon.
"Then I'm counting on you."
Belzeon didn't immediately grasp the hand she offered.
Only after Chesa began to feel a hint of awkwardness did he take her hand.
Then he lifted Chesa into his arms and boarded the hired carriage.
He quietly closed the carriage door and tapped on the worn wooden window connecting to the driver's seat.
The Coachman, who had been sleeping soundly, finally opened his eyes and took hold of the reins.
Because the elderly Coachman was pulling them, the carriage moved at an agonizingly slow pace.
For someone who needed to flee quickly, it was frustratingly slow.
Still, I assumed Belzeon must have had his reasons for procuring such a carriage and remained silent.
Clop, clop.
The sound of hoofbeats striking the well-paved stone road echoed through the quiet dawn streets.
Chesa gazed back at the Count Basilian's Residence, now completely distant.
It was a place I had grown somewhat attached to.
Unlike the drab Castle of Serpents, the Townhouse was decorated beautifully and elegantly.
There would surely be occasions to visit the Imperial Capital again later, so perhaps I could catch a glimpse from afar then....
"...?"
As Chesa gazed at the Townhouse with tender eyes, touched by the melancholy of early dawn, she sensed something amiss.
It was because Belzeon, seated across from me, had begun rummaging through something inside his robe.
Something that was, well, how should I put it, decidedly....
It looked like a detonation device.
The kind that could trigger explosives remotely through magic.
'No, surely I'm thinking something absurd.'
Yet Belzeon promptly proved my thoughts were anything but absurd.
He pressed the button with a sharp click.
A moment of silence followed.
Boom!
A tremendous explosion tore through the quiet dawn.
The West Wing of Chesa's Townhouse—where her brief memories had been kept—collapsed entirely, flames erupting across it in an instant.
The Coachman atop the driver's seat gasped in alarm, struggling to soothe the panicked horses.
Startled by the blast, the horses bolted forward at a speed that would shame any racing steed.
What had been a leisurely carriage journey mere moments ago transformed into a desperate flight through the Capital—a race for survival.
The architect of this dawn nightmare crushed the detonation device in his hand as though nothing had happened, utterly composed.
Belzeon tossed the broken fragments out of the carriage and spoke matter-of-factly.
"The cleanup will keep them occupied. They won't be able to pursue us until tomorrow."
"...."
Watching him, I made a decision.
'I must never provoke Belzeon.'
Now I understood perfectly why the Twins obeyed his every word without question.
This was the moment of complete comprehension.
***
"Master."
Jahan approached with swift grace.
The stench of blood vibrated through the air.
Kieran held his sword loosely at his side.
Dark shadows writhed beneath his feet as if alive.
It was rare for Kieran to wield his demonic blade outside the Eastern Region.
Most matters he resolved through magic, or else he sent others to handle them.
But today had proven burdensome enough to demand steel.
"Sigh..."
Kieran muttered in an irritable tone.
"It never ends."
He stepped over the splattered remains of what had once been human, pooling beneath his feet.
Blood dripped steadily from Jahan's whip as he followed.
Someone had leaked information.
Precise information, expertly delivered—which meant I'd spent the entire day gleefully contending with assassins.
At this level, it had to be someone from my inner circle who'd sold me out.
Whoever it was, I decided I would find them and kill them personally.
I was about to move into the next sector, my long coat billowing behind me.
A figure cloaked entirely in black cloth materialized abruptly from thin air.
"Master. Urgent news."
Kieran fixed the man with a cold stare.
And at what followed, I swallowed a hollow laugh.
"The Mansion is ablaze, sir."
"Jahan, bring the Twins."
I issued the command immediately and, without waiting for Jahan's response, used magic to transport myself to the Mansion.
Despite the late hour before dawn, the streets blazed bright as midday.
The Basilian Estate was engulfed in flames.
Servants and Capital Security Force members alike were mobilized, fighting the inferno.
I swept my gaze across the gathered crowds, searching.
Unable to find who I sought, Kieran moved without hesitation toward the Mansion's interior.
"Wait, no! Count Kieran!"
Shouts tried to stop me from entering, but I paid them no mind.
Kieran walked through the heat-shimmering corridor with a twisted smile playing at his lips.
Despite the massive fire, there were no casualties.
The flames had ignited precisely when the West Wing was empty.
As the fire spread, those inside the Mansion had ample time to escape.
Such perfectly timed circumstances could not be coincidence.
But that was not all.
The fire had completely immobilized me.
With dozens of people gathered due to the blaze, I could not employ dark magic.
Moreover, he would need to be summoned here and there to handle the aftermath of the fire.
A masterful scheme indeed.
Now I understood who had leaked information to the assassins that had relentlessly descended upon me all day.
'Belzeon.'
Truly, he was worthy of being Basilian's child, one who ruled the Black Forest.
"I do hope you haven't angered me too much...."
Kieran muttered to himself as he stopped before Chesa's bedroom door.
His polished shoe kicked the door open.
Bang—the door swung open violently.
Kieran called out softly.
"Chesa."
But there was no answer.
The bedroom, not yet reached by the flames, stood empty.
Kieran stood motionless in the quiet chamber, bereft of its mistress.
Until the fire reached him.
Only when the brilliant crimson flames rushed before his eyes did he come to his senses.
A slow smile crept across his expressionless face.
A gleam flickered across his crimson eyes, and the shadows within the room began to writhe ominously.
Dense darkness coiled and spread rapidly through the bedroom.
The savage flames, the moment they touched the darkness, withered helplessly away.
A desolate chill, incongruous with the burning mansion, blanketed everything around him.
Ha—Kieran let out a short, hollow laugh, his expression turning glacial.
"Where is my daughter."
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