PMEVBO 32

It was late at night, so it took some time to find the fever reducer.

“Th-this is the fever reducer we maids take. Th-this, please try this medicine first. If your fever still doesn’t break, please tell me. I’ll, I’ll ask the duke to call the physician for you…”

“Alright, I will. Thank you for getting it.”

Paf handed me the fever reducer with a sleepy expression. Seeing her pitiful state, I lowered my eyebrows and gave a small smile.

“Sorry for waking you. Go back to sleep quickly.”

After saying goodbye to Paf, I headed for the hideout.

I ran down the dark, quiet underground corridor and quickly turned the handle on the iron door to the hideout. The pungent smell of blood wafted through the open crack.

Clang!

The fever reducer slipped from my hand, shattering on the floor.

But I had no time to worry about that. I rushed into the room.

A table was toppled with its legs broken, a dresser had fallen sideways with drawers half spilled out, and beyond the door, now reduced to ash, was a bedroom stained entirely crimson.

It resembled a murder scene…

At that moment, my trembling breath suddenly stopped.

The divine power that had been fluctuating erratically these past few days began to rage.

From deep within my heart, the divine power surged like erupting lava.

Boom─!

A powerful shockwave swept through the room, extinguishing all the candles at once.

A crimson flash illuminated the chaotic room, spreading like a spiderweb across the walls and ceiling.

Soon, the room was plunged into darkness.

Amidst the hot, acrid whirlwind, I could sense traces of divine power that weren’t mine. It belonged to Archbishop Atsula.

“Could that bastard have taken Iser…?”

No, it was too early to be certain. Iser was nowhere to be seen in the hideout. That meant…

Crack─!

The uncontrolled burst of divine power cracked the stone floor and sent fragments of wall flying everywhere. Perhaps affected by my unstable mental state, I’d been unable to control my divine power since earlier.

I clutched my head and cursed.

“Dammit, calm down, please. Let me think…”

The bedroom was soaked in blood. Under normal circumstances, someone bleeding this much wouldn’t be alive, but Iser was different. He possessed the Power of Life.

A few days ago, Iser had stabbed his own palm to heal me. After that, his wound healed almost instantly. So it was highly likely he’d healed quickly this time too.

“Yes, no matter how I think about it, he can’t be dead…”

If he’d been killed by Atsula, he would have been left here, even as a corpse. The very fact that Iser was gone was proof he was still alive.

Without even considering how valid my conclusion was, I left the hideout. Half-crazed, I somehow found my way to Atsula’s room, but he wasn’t there.

Instead, Tykvana, standing by the dimly lit window, gazing up at the silver-blue sky, turned her head in surprise at the sound.

Needless to say, there was no time for polite greetings. Without even catching my breath, I cut straight to the chase.

“Where’s that bastard Atsula?”

“Archbishop Abet decided to return to the imperial capital a day early.”

“So where is he now?”

“…I confirmed he left the castle a short while ago.”

Hearing that, I collapsed onto the floor.

If Iser had already been dragged out of the castle, I couldn’t go save him. I was stuck here in Hayut Castle, bound by my location lock.

Useless bastard. What the hell were you doing while a sick kid got kidnapped…

Ah, if only a little more time had passed, I could have been released from this godforsaken place…

My vision reddened, and the divine power I had barely suppressed began to surge again.

The room shook as if an earthquake had struck. Pictures hanging on the walls and ornaments on the shelves crashed to the floor.

I sensed Tykvana, startled, approaching me.

“C-calm down, Priest Nebella.”

Calm down? Do I look like I can calm down right now?

A child was kidnapped by a psychopath bastard, how the hell am I supposed to calm down…

The seeping divine power finally clawed at the windowpane. A hairline crack, like a beast’s claw mark, appeared across the glass.

Then, Tykvana spoke again.

“I will help you.”

“What?”

Perhaps it was the unexpected words. My mind, teetering on the brink of collapse, inexplicably calmed a little.

Tykvana didn’t care about me starting at her like some bizarre creature, she knelt down before me, her face expressionless. Her fingertips, placed on her knee, gripped her black clerical robe tightly.

After staring at her crouched on the floor for a moment, I asked.

“Why are you helping me?”

I sounded harsh, likely because my nerves were on edge. Realizing my mistake, I sighed, rubbed my face, and lowered my voice.

“I just don’t get it. You hate me.”

I knew Tykvana disliked me, though perhaps not as intensely as Atsula.

“…Isn’t it cowardly to imply I’m the only one who hates you? You despise me just as much. You trampled and crushed the flowers I personally cultivated and presented to His Holiness with your boot.”

What kind of trashy bastard even does that…?

This bastard Lucariel… no matter how much you peel back the layers, it’s just a bucket full of horror stories…

As my head cooled, things I hadn’t noticed before began to come into view.

────【 Help 】────

Until next skill cast

D-0 (3h 19m 10s)

remaining.

────────────────

The Guidance skill I planned to use to help Iser escape from this castle.

Using this might allow me to go rescue Iser.

Using the Guidance skill can nullify positional lock for a short time.

But the skill’s cooldown required waiting another three hours.

I had no idea what might happen to Iser while I sat twiddling my thumbs in Hayut Castle. Therefore, it was crucial for me. I needed someone to ensure Iser’s safety until I could use the skill.

But I can’t talk about Iser to someone I don’t even trust…

Finally, pressing down on my throbbing head to gauge her feelings, I asked.

“……So why would you help a bastard like me?”

Tykvana answered with a bitter smile.

“Does disliking you mean I shouldn’t help? Didn’t you help me at that dinner last time?”

“What? When did I?”

I have no idea when I supposedly helped her. At my counterquestion, Tykvana sighed as if she were exasperated. Sorry, but I’m the one who’s exasperated.

“…If you don’t remember, saying it’s repayment for then won’t work. Then just consider this my way of making it up to you because I feel bad.”

“What do you have to feel bad about?”

Tykvana, who had been staring at the floor for a moment, looked up at me slowly.

“Didn’t that dead maid try to poison you? Actually, it was Atsula who hired her.”

I had suspected there was someone else behind that poisoning incident. But Atsula?

It wasn’t exactly surprising now. I asked calmly.

“So?”

“……Since my name was used in the process of bribing that maid, I bear some responsibility too.”

Tykvana lowered her head and continued in a trembling voice.

“And even after coming here, I already knew Atsula intended to harm you. Yet I failed to stop him beforehand.”

“So you’re sorry to me?”

“Yes. Please allow me to help you now and take responsibility for past mistakes.”

Her face, her hands clasped together in prayer, was not just serious but resolute.

…What a strange person. Isn’t she being unnecessarily earnest?

In my opinion, nowhere in the stammering words Tykvana had listed was there any part where she should feel guilty.

Why on earth would she go out of her way to suffer? The archbishop before me gave off a similar aura of being an easy target, like Seriha. Well, but she undoubtedly possessed the noble character befitting a model for clergy.

In the end, I smiled weakly and said,

“Then help me, Tykvana. Atsula kidnapped the child I was protecting.”

“Huh? What did you say……?”

***

The Pope’s bloodline was generally robust. Among them, those who manifested divine power possessed physical abilities far beyond ordinary people.

They could run for miles without pausing for breath, like the wind. That was precisely why carriages didn’t travel within the capital.

But the road to the imperial capital during the Season of Salvation was long, and the load they had to carry was heavy. Therefore, the Pope and his Apostles had long operated divine carriages. Powered by divine power , they were the fastest means of transport available at this time.

Atsula’s divine carriage raced through the Hayut territory at dawn.

The metal steering wheel absorbed flame-like divine power from Atsula’s palms.

Clang.

Clang.

Clang!

A series of loud noises came from beside him.

Atsula, who had been smoking while gazing out the window, turned his head toward the source of the sound.

Iser, bound and thrown onto the seat beside him, was kicking the carriage’s body. Though tightly bound with ropes, making even moving a finger difficult, his persistent display of rage was quite impressive.

“I felt it when I dragged him out of that fucking hideout too. The little bastard really has no manners.”

Atsula grinned, took a deep drag on his cigarette, and blew the greenish smoke toward Iser’s face. Yet, even through the acrid smoke, the piercing glare from those vivid blue eyes remained menacing.

“Look at these eyes.”

Atsula chuckled and leaned back against the seat.

Green cigarette smoke trailed behind the divine carriage as it plowed through the pale dawn mist.