Chapter 23
Resolve
The proposal was to cast aside his humanity for his daughter’s sake. It was not something anyone could readily accept.
After hesitating for a long while, Gaf finally spoke.
“I…”
Johan raised a hand, stopping him.
“You need not answer me now. I will give you time. On the night of the operation, if you decide to accept my offer, stand before the castle gate. If you do not appear, I will assume you have abandoned Ilea.”
Johan turned away.
“Whatever you choose, I will respect your decision. I only ask that you choose wisely.”
Leaving only those words behind, he walked out of the room.
Johan headed straight for the Forbidden Archive of the Abyss.
There were many things he needed to retrieve in preparation for the operation.
A shrill roar rang from the guest chamber of the lord’s castle, loud enough to be heard beyond its doors.
“What?! You released an apostate?! Who in the world gave the likes of you the authority to do that?!”
The owner of that cracking voice was none other than Archbishop Hiles. His usual benevolent smile was nowhere to be seen, replaced by an expression of extreme hysteria.
“The girl named Ilea was not an apostate. Far from sensing a demon, I could not detect even the faintest trace of demonic energy within her.”
Even if a demon noticed something amiss and fled, it would inevitably leave at least a small trace of demonic energy in its host’s body.
Yet Ilea was clean.
Not the slightest impurity was mixed within her.
Shaperia had no choice but to admit her mistake.
“She was innocent. This happened because of my mistaken judgment, so I wanted to make it right immediately.”
Archbishop Hiles shrieked.
“You stupid bitch!”
A sharp smack rang out.
The archbishop had struck Shaperia across the face.
“The Order does not make mistakes! Even if an error occurred, word of it must never get out! Our honor is directly tied to the authority of the Great Saint! You have committed an appalling act of sacrilege! It wasn’t enough for you to make a mistake—you even sullied the Great Saint’s name!”
Cover up their faults and preserve their reputation.
That was the Order’s way.
Shaperia should have denied her mistake and seen the matter through to the end.
She placed a hand over her reddened cheek.
“Admit your mistakes and correct them. Has that not always been the Great Saint’s teaching?”
The archbishop’s face contorted violently.
“I took in a street urchin and raised her like a human being, and now you openly defy me! How dare you presume to lecture me?!”
Books and documents of every kind flew at Shaperia.
“Get out! Get out of my sight!”
Even as the books struck her, Shaperia calmly made the sign of the cross.
“…I shall take my leave.”
She turned and left the office.
Even as she walked down the corridor, his shouting and curses followed her.
Trying to ignore the humiliation, Shaperia sank into thought.
‘I should have covered up my mistake?’
They would uphold their authority by fastening an innocent person to the rack.
It was such a revolting and despicable method that she could not possibly accept it.
‘That is merely the archbishop’s opinion. The Order must be different.’
Had the Order not always preached justice? Even if some parts of it had become rotten, its foundations surely remained pure.
The archbishop’s values could not represent the entire Order.
She had to believe that.
Just as Shaperia was about to make the sign of the cross, someone addressed her.
“It seems you incurred the archbishop’s wrath because of me.”
A beautiful silver-haired girl was waiting for Shaperia at the end of the corridor.
“You are…”
“My name is Ilea. Until just a few hours ago, I was suspected of apostasy.”
Self-reproach flashed across Shaperia’s face. She bowed slightly.
“I am truly sorry. I made a mistake that must never be repeated.”
Ilea shook her head.
“You reconsidered your judgment, Lady Shaperia. For someone as lowly as me, such mercy is rarely granted. Thank you for finding the courage to do so.”
“I deserve no thanks. I merely did what was right.”
“Would the others feel the same way?”
“…Anyone in the Order would have acted as I did.”
“I see.”
A shadow had fallen over Shaperia’s expression.
Ilea smiled gently and changed the subject.
“That was a pointless question. I actually came to speak with you about something else.”
“Please tell me. If you wish to reproach me, I will gladly listen.”
“I bear no resentment toward you. Besides, how could I possibly dare challenge a holy knight?”
“I have not yet become a holy knight. Nor was I born into the nobility. You may speak freely with me.”
Ilea had already formed a rough idea of Shaperia’s origins.
No matter how hard most commoners tried, they could not conceal their unrefined air.
The way they walked, their table manners, their pronunciation, the words they used—unlike nobles, who cultivated an artificial elegance even in their daily lives, commoners pursued only survival and convenience. The distinction between the two was inevitably clear.
The environment in which one had lived seeped into a person like their natural scent.
Shaperia was no exception. She carried the scent of a commoner.
She appeared to have concealed it rather well, but anyone sufficiently perceptive could still detect it.
Ilea spoke.
“If you are not a noble, then those eyes of yours must be a divine power personally bestowed upon you by the Great Saint.”
“That is correct. It is not a power I inherited from my parents.”
Shaperia possessed the Eyes of Inquisition, which could detect demons.
It was the perfect divine power for confronting demons. Such abilities were ordinarily passed down through blood, and bloodlines with the right of succession were invariably revered by all.
In other words, anyone who possessed the Eyes of Inquisition was normally a noble.
If the bearer was a commoner, then that person was a messenger personally chosen by the Great Saint.
Ilea nodded and murmured quietly,
“Now I understand.”
She had memorized every divine power and family that could pose a threat to her true identity.
The Valderian family’s Demon-Seeking Art, the Beris family’s Ghost-Slaying Soul, the Theon family’s Light-Demon Physique, the Taryun family’s Evil-Annihilating Holy Spirit Art, and so on. Yet the power Shaperia possessed was not among them.
Ilea had no way to prepare for it.
“If it is not too impolite of me, could you tell me exactly what kind of power it is?”
Johan had told her that they were simply eyes capable of detecting demons, but they might possess some other ability as well.
A hint of puzzlement crossed Shaperia’s face.
Ilea responded with an innocuous smile.
“It is merely idle curiosity, so you are free to refuse.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Shaperia answered.
“It is the power to uncover demons in hiding.”
“Then you saw a demon within me.”
“As I said, that was a mistake. I apologize.”
“Was it really? Look again.”
Ilea stepped closer to Shaperia—close enough for their breaths to touch.
“Look again? What do you…”
“Go on.”
Ilea lightly clapped her hands.
At the same moment, a small magical formula appeared above Shaperia’s head.
She did not notice it.
“What do you see now?”
Ilea’s clear blue eyes filled Shaperia’s entire field of vision.
“I-I’m not sure.”
“Let me help you.”
The clear, pristine sea began to ripple.
As if a volcano had erupted in its depths, the surface churned violently.
“Does it look different now?”
Ash rising from the seabed spread through the water, turning it murky.
Ilea’s eyes were no longer blue.
They were dull and suffocating, like an abyss steeped in malice.
Fear and revulsion crashed into Shaperia.
She groaned and shuddered.
“So your eyes can see my true nature.”
Ilea was fully exposing her spectral soul—the soul of a witch.
It was impossible for ordinary eyes to perceive such a soul.
Shaperia’s eyes were different.
“Wh-What in the world is this?”
The silver-haired girl before her was not a demon. She was similar to one, yet fundamentally different.
“You are looking at a witch.”
“What are you talking about…?”
“Now that I see it, everyone has been underestimating you. Your ability does not merely detect things. It goes beyond that—it sees through to the essence of its target. Fairies, witches, even dragons transformed into humans cannot escape those eyes.”
Ilea chuckled and added,
“And yet you use them merely to detect demons. Fortunately for me, you are ignorant of their true power.”
Shaperia could not understand what Ilea was saying.
She merely moved her hand on instinct.
She had to eliminate the malice before her.
The moment she gripped the hilt of her sword, Ilea clapped her hands again.
“That’s enough.”
The magical formula above Shaperia’s head vanished.
Ilea spoke.
“Can you see anything now?”
Shaperia shook her head.
“As I said before, it was my mistake. You are more innocent than anyone.”
“That is a relief. This has been a fascinating conversation.”
Shaperia looked at Ilea in confusion.
“Did you not say you had some other business with me?”
Ilea smiled brightly.
“I just took care of it.”
Shaperia remembered nothing.
One minute of her memory had disappeared.
It was a short-term memory-erasure spell. Although it was difficult magic, a witch could cast it with ease.
Ilea bowed her head slightly.
“I hope we meet again someday.”
Shaperia scratched her head, looking vaguely uneasy.
“…As do I. Hopefully, our next meeting will be under more pleasant circumstances.”
“That may be difficult.”
Murmuring softly, Ilea turned away.
With each step she took, the smile faded from her face.
Her pale features hardened like wax.
‘What a troublesome power.’
Eyes capable of seeing through to the essence of things. Shaperia was still unskilled in their use, but given time, she would eventually learn to wield them properly.
Even if Ilea did not reveal her spectral soul, Shaperia would one day be able to detect it on her own.
She was an exceptionally lethal natural enemy.
***
Time passed quickly.
As the crimson leaves withered and fell, a chill settled over the territory.
Winter was approaching.
It was a season when neither farming nor hunting was possible. The people would have to survive for several months on whatever food they had stored, yet their granaries stood empty.
The pilgrimage delegation had remained in the territory for several weeks and exhausted a great quantity of grain.
As if that were not enough, they had also demanded enormous donations.
They carried scriptures instead of swords, but they were little different from a band of robbers.
To make matters worse, as winter drew near, the pilgrims began preparing to leave. They intended to spend the harsh season in the prosperous royal capital.
On the afternoon before their departure, Johan left the castle ahead of them.
Standing before the castle gate, he looked at the knight Rael.
“Do you think Gaf will come?”
There was no answer. The blond knight seated on his horse merely stared down at Johan with lifeless eyes.
A puppet without a will of his own. Rael was not fit for conversation.
Clicking his tongue, Johan rummaged through his pack.
‘I should check my belongings one more time.’
The pack was filled with holy relics taken from the Forbidden Archive.
‘I haven’t forgotten anything.’
He had to use every means at his disposal to kill Krill and Shaperia, then seize a fragment of the Great Saint’s corpse as well.
It would be a difficult undertaking. He could not even expect Ilea’s assistance, so there could be no room for error.
Depending on the circumstances, he might have to abandon the Great Saint’s remains.
Johan steeled his resolve.
“It’s time. Let’s go.”
He climbed onto Rael’s horse.
Since he had never learned to ride, he had no choice but to share the saddle with Rael.
‘I had hoped to learn how to ride from Gaf along the way, but I suppose that’s out of the question.’
Just as they were about to depart, the sound of approaching hooves came from behind them.
“You act as though you can do anything, yet it seems you don’t even know how to ride a horse.”
Gaf approached at a trot, his face concealed beneath a black hood.
Johan smirked.
“Have you decided to abandon your humanity?”
Gaf said nothing. He merely stared at Johan with a somber expression.
“Put this on.”
Johan tossed him a black mask.
After catching it, Gaf slowly spoke.
“Ilea is the only humanity I have left.”
Johan shrugged.
“Let’s go.”