Chapter 61
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Chapter 61
It was an odd gathering.
Serea Fron Ibroyel, a Duke of the Empire who was sixty years old but appeared to be in her thirties.
Hailon, a First Rank Holy Knight of the Holy Empire Hilderd.
And Kieran Basilian, the Master of the Underworld and a skilled dark mage, yet masquerading as a powerless Count.
These individuals, each harboring their own secrets, found themselves gathered for a midnight tea time.
The Bishop of the Holy Temple seemed eager to join the conversation, but Serea cut him off without hesitation.
Apparently quite curious, the Bishop personally brewed and served the tea before departing.
Since he lingered so reluctantly, Serea nearly kicked his rear end on the way out.
It would have been troublesome if a Duke had kicked a Bishop's backside, so it was fortunate that the Bishop vanished just in time.
A teapot and teacup filled with steaming flower tea were placed on the table.
Yet no one touched it.
The atmosphere was too tense for anyone to sip, so Serea simply took the teapot and poured tea only into her own cup.
Splash.
The tea that filled the cup took on a pale green hue.
Satisfied with the clear color and aroma, Serea offered a slight smile.
She took a sip of the hot tea and gazed at the two men before her.
"...."
The two men staring at each other in silence had such murderous glints in their eyes that one would wonder why they didn't simply draw their blades and strike.
Serea soothed her throat with the warm tea while reflecting on what had transpired earlier.
Since the Countess Basilian's death.
Kieran's mental fortitude had weakened considerably.
For a dark mage who relied on strong mental discipline to control and suppress their power, it was a fatal wound.
However, her disciple possessed an inherently cold temperament, allowing him to conceal the mortal injury he had sustained beneath a layer of composure.
He assessed his condition objectively and, grasping his limits precisely, wielded his power accordingly.
It was easy to say, but to manipulate such an ill-defined concept of "power" with such precision was already venturing into the realm of monsters.
It was a display so ruthless that even Serea had to click her tongue.
'But just now....'
Serea recalled Kieran's extremely unstable state.
After the Countess Basilian's death, Kieran, who had been living brilliantly behind a mask, had nearly exposed his true self.
If Belzeon hadn't arrived at precisely the right moment, Serea would have struck Kieran down.
Left unchecked, he would have actually resorted to dark magic.
In a Holy Temple teeming with Holy Priests and Holy Knights, no less.
She was exasperated at how this cunning schemer was acting so foolishly.
'Has he already given his heart so completely to his adopted child.'
The fit must have been triggered by talk of departure....
But beyond that, the child had shown signs of relying on this Holy Knight, and it seemed to have driven him to madness.
'In any case, mere jealousy alone won't suffice.'
She couldn't help but recall past events.
The late Countess Basilian's nature—to conduct dark investigations whenever someone smiled at her a bit too long or paid her a bit too much attention at a banquet—hadn't changed one bit.
Serea Fron Ibroyel clicked her tongue inwardly, then took a sip of tea and shifted her gaze.
Kieran was one thing, but the real problem was.
'This man right here.'
A man who introduced himself as a Holy Knight belonging to the First Rank Holy Knight Order.
Hailon, with his pristine silver hair and blue eyes, possessed the very ideal appearance of a Holy Knight.
His aura was the complete opposite of Kieran's, so much so that simply standing them side by side was remarkable.
The reason a Holy Knight of such high rank as the First Rank had suddenly appeared in the peaceful Capital of the Palen Empire was simple.
He had been assigned as a guard knight for the Pure Child Prayer Ceremony.
Other noble families of the Empire had also participated in the Pure Child Prayer Ceremony, and I had heard that they too were accompanied by Holy Knights of high rank.
Serea Fron Ibroyel narrowed the space between her brows as she studied Hailon intently.
After the chaotic situation had passed, the more calmly I observed him, the stranger he seemed.
'No matter how I think about it, that guy doesn't seem like just a Holy Knight.'
Those who possessed power always recognized one another.
Because their strength was so formidable, some of their aura would inevitably leak out no matter how carefully they contained it.
However, there were occasionally unsettling individuals—always one or two of them.
Those who sealed their aura without the slightest gap.
When one sealed their aura so perfectly, the opposing party could only sense that their opponent was strong, but could never discern the true extent of that power.
It was a tedious and meticulous task, so Serea had never bothered with such effort.
I had always let my strength radiate openly.
Not just Serea, but the vast majority of the strong did the same.
After all, displaying one's strength was something to be proud of.
Serea had encountered exactly two people in her lifetime who sealed their aura with such obsessive precision, and one of them was Kieran.
And the other was this 'self-proclaimed Holy Knight' standing right before me.
The status of a Holy Knight belonging to the First Rank was certainly a guarantee of tremendous skill.
At the First Rank level, there was more than enough possibility that someone strong enough to seal their aura belonged to their ranks.
But the experience and instinct I had accumulated over my long life were screaming at me.
'That bastard is suspicious.'
The reason I kept thinking such things was not solely because of his aura.
Hailon's presence was different from any Holy Knight I had ever encountered.
Of course, his appearance alone was strikingly different from ordinary knights, but that was secondary.
Hailon reeked of blood.
The stench of blood that had seeped into his very soul from having stained his hands with it for so long.
And those cold blue eyes were the same.
Those blue eyes, which appeared coldly composed at first glance, were not actually cold at all.
They were simply eyes devoid of interest in anything whatsoever.
[Show compassion to the weak and perform acts of virtue.]
It was the very first line of the oath that Holy Knights swore before God and the Holy King.
How a man indifferent to all things, incapable of understanding compassion, had ever become a Holy Knight was a mystery to Serea.
To be honest, this man did not suit the role of a Holy Knight.
Rather, he seemed far better suited for work where mercy and compassion were unnecessary.
For instance, take an example.
'A Heresy Inquisitor, perhaps.'
Serea Fron Ibroyel drained the remaining tea from her cup in one gulp.
Otherwise, she feared she might burst out with vulgar curses.
If she assumed that man was a Heresy Inquisitor, everything fell into place seamlessly.
'They would suspect Kieran.'
I had always known that one day, Kieran's tail as a dark sorcerer would be stepped upon.
Yet when that moment truly arrived, I was terrified.
I did not wish to see my disciple—the joy of my twilight years—executed by a Heresy Inquisitor.
Though he had walked the wrong path of dark magic, still....
"Master, it's Kieran."
The image of young Kieran flickered through my mind.
I wanted to save my disciple, who still felt so young to me.
It was then, as Serea Fron Ibroyel deliberated over the two men before her, searching for a way forward.
Quite abruptly, without any warning, Kieran suddenly opened his mouth.
"Lord Hailon."
Unlike Hailon, who sat rigidly upright in his chair without a hint of disorder, Kieran—who had been sprawled against the back of the sofa—slowly raised his upper body.
"What did my daughter tell you? Did she say she disliked me?"
To ask such a childish question in this grave situation was absurd.
Serea Fron Ibroyel had to restrain the urge to strike Kieran's mouth.
Yet Hailon was no different from Kieran.
"Nothing at all."
At the brief reply, Kieran's eyes dimmed.
Watching those eyes sink into a crimson hue, Hailon spoke coldly once more.
"The child said nothing of you. There was no sign of longing either."
"...."
"She fled from the Count, after all. It is only natural."
Their gazes collided.
As they glared at each other, Hailon continued slowly.
"The Holy Temple has a duty to protect the weak."
Serea Fron Ibroyel waited for Hailon's words, gripping her empty teacup.
And Hailon had truly struck a blow against Kieran.
"Therefore, I intend to continue raising the child in the Holy Temple henceforth."
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