HPV 39

Yurichen, who had stayed awake, welcomed us back.

“Are you hurt?”

There were red marks scattered across Paronai’s body.

At a glance, they looked serious — but unlike Sisen, who had been severely impaired, Paronai only had some light scratches. Besides, I had already healed him earlier using the power of the trees.

“I’m fine. Ria healed me.”

Yurichen’s gaze shifted to me.

Feeling like I had done something wrong, I immediately looked away, giving off a strong “I’m being cautious” vibe.

But Yurichen said nothing.

“…Why aren’t you saying anything? You said you wouldn’t let the spirits act out in front of holy power.”

“Hm? …Ah.”

What was that? Did he seriously forget his own words?

Yurichen responded absentmindedly at first, then belatedly seemed to snap back into focus. There are some things you shouldn’t forget — especially after scorning the spirits so much.

Shouldn’t he be using this chance to push me down and humiliate me?

“Don’t act out. It’s your duty.”

He heard me, but somehow his words left the same feeling as being half-scolded without much energy.

His voice lacked its usual weight.

Was he drained because he hadn’t gotten any sleep while waiting for us?

For someone like me, who oddly enjoys hearing him bash the spirits, it felt kind of disappointing.

Anyway, Yurichen was officially the party’s healer. Banwes had just been an exception.

As a minor character, I shouldn’t steal anyone’s role — but still, it hadn’t felt right to leave Paronai limping around.

When someone comes back from a night out covered in blood, you have to ask what happened.

But Paronai just gave a weak smile and headed toward his room.

“I’ll explain tomorrow. I’m too tired now.”

“As you wish.”

Before he went to bed, there was something I had to say.

I grabbed the hem of Yurichen’s long sleeve.

“It was hard.”

Just as he was about to stand up, his gaze shifted downward to me.

But it didn’t feel like he was looking down on me.

“Please don’t assign your work to me again. As you said yourself, I’m not someone mentioned in the Oracle. And wandering around at night… it was more exhausting than I thought. I don’t want to go through something like this twice.”

For the few seconds he stood there without even blinking, I was genuinely terrified of what his reaction might be.

Maybe I had spoken too harshly because my nerves were so frayed.

Yurichen hadn’t forced me to go.

He had asked politely, and I had agreed.

Surely he wouldn’t let it slide.

He’d throw some biting remark, maybe even withdraw his promise to accept me as a priest…

“I’m sorry. You went through a lot. I won’t hand off my duties to you again.”

He gently placed his hand on my shoulder for a brief moment before withdrawing it.

The warmth he left behind made my head spin. It wasn’t sarcasm. It was a real apology.

The High Priest of Gaioh, apologizing sincerely — to someone who served the spirits.

Yurichen turned and disappeared into his room.

I stood frozen in the hallway for a moment, then shivered as goosebumps raced down my arms.

I had been serious about what I said.

I truly didn’t plan to step forward like that again.

I had realized it when Sisen and his soldiers saw my face…

It was dangerous for me to show my face.

If it were just villagers, it would be fine — they wouldn’t leave their town.

But with someone like Sisen, who had wide connections, the risk of rumors spreading was real.

If word got out, and the Hancanera continued his pursuit—I could still picture the cold, vile glint in the eyes of that man wreathed in white light.

A scream nearly tore from my throat, and my whole body shook.

That man surely already knew — that I had tricked a few people and fled far away.

When I entered the room, I immediately noticed a large figure collapsed on the bed opposite mine.

He was still under the influence of the sacred artifact, but to the eye, he simply looked asleep.

I cast a glance at the man.

Come to think of it…

This was the first time I’d seen him so defenseless.

The first time I realized: when he slept, he wasn’t terrifying.

His solid brow and jawline, the sharply shadowed bridge of his nose and eyelids, and even the thin, cold lips that had seemed so sinister — now all formed peaceful lines.

He breathed steadily, his chest rising and falling in a calm rhythm.

‘…Why am I staring at him?’

Knowing the storm that would hit once Banwes woke up tomorrow, was this really the time to be leisurely examining his face?

I’d be better off trying to get a good night’s sleep while I could.

—

The man regained consciousness early the next morning.

A crimson gleam, sharp as a blade, flickered in his eyes.

He slipped off the bed — a bed he hadn’t chosen to lie in — moving like a predator about to strike.

There was no way Banwes wouldn’t realize that his consciousness had been seized twice now by sacred artifacts.

Through the long journey, Banwes had learned to distinguish every voice, every footstep, every movement around him.

Now, every creaking noise of the inn flowed into his sharp ears as useful information.

The mage was already awake and no longer in the inn.

The swordsman and the priest were talking seriously in the next room — no doubt discussing last night’s events.

It was a fateful moment — the High Priest said to the swordsman:

“Riarun went in my place. Banwes didn’t follow because… Riarun wished it so, and I…”

In other words, he was saying that Riarun was the one who had knocked him unconscious.

That thing lying fast asleep in the bed next to him — did he have no fear of the consequences, sleeping so shamelessly?

Still, Banwes had no intention of questioning Riarun about last night.

That small mouth would surely start spilling excuses.

He wouldn’t let Riarun make excuses. He wouldn’t even give him the chance.

Dealing with a sleeping child was all too easy.

Without waking Riarun, Banwes approached the wall to keep eavesdropping on the conversation next door.

“Then I’ll take a lap outside. Morning exercise.”

“Be sure to return on time.”

“Huh? Haha… Don’t worry. No matter what happens, I won’t break my promise this time.”

With that, Paronai left the hallway, sounding refreshingly light-hearted. Banwes moved immediately.

Soundlessly, he slipped into the room where the priest was alone.

The High Priest sat on the bed in an elegant posture. Even in the shabby room used by commoners, he radiated a sacred light.

Sensing the murderous intent directed at him, Yurichen raised his head.

“……”

The High Priest remained calm, as if he had been expecting this moment all along.

Even with the hatred of a beast right before him, he appeared as composed as if he were simply receiving another believer coming for confession.

The monstrous figure stated his business curtly:

“Bring out the artifact.”

His voice carried a coercive force unlike anything heard before.

For all his status as High Priest, Yurichen was still a mortal with blood flowing through his veins.

The man standing before him now was no longer human, but something more akin to a cursed god.

Knowing that refusal would only provoke violence, Yurichen obediently produced the sacred artifact out of thin air.

The man’s hand descended onto the artifact.

“I’ll show you — watch as God’s artifact is shattered before your eyes.”

A suffocating wave of rage poured out of him.

Without a change in expression, Yurichen calmly looked up at him.

The man, finding this composure ridiculous, furrowed his brows.

“You think I can’t break it?”

The High Priest met his gaze directly and answered:

“Yes.”

“If you do that, Riarun’s credibility — his role as your guarantor — will be damaged.”

After that clear voice fell silent, the room hung in a heavy stillness.

Soon, a crooked smile twisted across the man’s lips.

Crack.

A dark, reddish tint spread across the back of his hand.

Yurichen’s eyes widened as he watched the half-blood summoned forth his abominable power, violating the laws of nature.

The hand, now transformed into that of a monster, seized the artifact.

The sacred artifact trembled violently.

The High Priest infused it with holy power in resistance.

Crack — a fracture ran across its once-pristine surface.

Yurichen furrowed his brow as if in pain.

Even though part of the man’s hand had turned monstrous, it was now hideously burned.

Golden eyes, clad in divine light, and red eyes that had survived the filthy depths of the world glared at each other, as if they would tear each other apart.

If anyone else had disturbed the taut tension in the room, the entire inn would have been reduced to dust, and everyone inside turned to little more than puddles of blood.

In such a fight, the victor was already decided.

“….!”

Blood spurted from the High Priest’s mouth.

The once-brilliant artifact shattered completely, and blood sprayed across its broken pieces.

The man turned away without even showing a change of expression.

Through blurred vision, Yurichen caught sight of something and flinched.

Peeking through the crack of the door was Riarun, his eyes filled with shock and confusion.

He had hurriedly hidden himself, fearful of Banwes noticing him — but the man had already sensed his presence behind him.

Rather, he had deliberately shown him this moment, flaunting it.

Gradually, his ragged breathing calmed.

Yurichen drew upon his holy power to settle his twisted insides.

He gathered the shattered artifact and tucked it into his pouch.

He must not grow angry.

He repeated it to himself, suppressing the rage welling up inside.

I misjudged.

Someone who has lived his whole life under a vile curse… of course he wouldn’t care about preserving Riarun’s reputation.

There’s only one thing he cannot endure:

Being unable to go where Riarun goes. The artifact was destroyed… for Riarun.

Before he knew it, the High Priest had regained his composure, as if nothing had happened.

He spoke silently to the one who was not here: Riarun. I had once considered sending you back to the temple mid-journey to protect you from the cult’s pursuit…

But I’m sorry. It seems you’ll have to accompany us all the way to the Black Dragon’s Nest.

You are now Banwes’s only shackle.