🔊 TTS Settings
chapter 18
It was only natural that nothing good could come out of her mouth. How could someone who hadn’t even begun to “atone” for the so-called sin of the divine prophecy—someone whose life was now only piling up more doubts and suspicions—possibly give a pleasant answer?
“Shouldn’t you introduce yourself before asking someone else’s name? Or did the temple forget to teach you basic manners?”
“Ha!”
Whether he was angry or simply dumbfounded, the boy let out a loud, derisive laugh before introducing himself as “Nora.” Even at a glance he looked like a noble’s son, yet he didn’t even bother mentioning his family name—an introduction as rude as it was arrogant.
So they really think they’re some lofty, exalted holy knights, huh?
Well, what could you expect? People who willingly signed up to work at a job with no pay and no time off weren’t doing it out of charity. Honor and pride—that was all they lived for. Compared to Gray’s inexplicable kindness, Yuri found their attitude almost refreshing. At least these holy knights, drunk on their own moral superiority, wouldn’t resort to the underhanded schemes that polite society despised. She was already used to receiving condemning stares—after all, she had received plenty in Latem—so it barely itched anymore.
“My name is Yuri Anderson. I’m the adopted daughter of Mr. Anderson, the village chief of Tarel’s border town, and I teach at a school in Melburn Port Village. I pay my taxes properly and on time, so I don’t think there’s any issue with me leaving the country.”
At her response, Nora merely inclined his head to show he’d heard her, then walked off without further comment or greeting. Yuri wrinkled her nose at the cloud of dust from the horses and closed the window.
“Anderson, you say—”
The reply came from elsewhere. The Tower Lord muttered under his breath, so softly she couldn’t tell whether he was talking to himself or picking a fight. He mumbled something like “Doesn’t suit her.” Yuri was too exhausted to even be annoyed; she simply closed her eyes and ignored him.
“Anderson” was the single most common surname among southern commoners. Walk into a public tavern and call, “Mr. Anderson!”—you were guaranteed to get at least three or four heads turning. Why did a person’s name have to “suit” them? It wasn’t clothing or a hairstyle. She just wanted to live a normal, perfectly ordinary life.
* * *
Sol and the Tower Lord remained bound in the carriage for six whole hours. The holy knights had handed out sandwiches during the trip, but after witnessing how the Tower Lord managed to eat without using his hands, both Yuri and Lucas silently agreed never to speak of it again.
The holy knights only released their restraints once the carriage crossed the portal and arrived at the Grand Temple. When Yuri stepped down, her body—cramped into one position for half a day—let out a collective scream.
“Sol, are you okay? How could they keep you tied up the whole time? Those bastards…”
“I’m fine. This is nothing.”
“Oh, please. Such dramatics.”
The Tower Lord scoffed, acting as if riding in a carriage a little longer was nothing to fuss about. He massaged his numb wrists with a sour expression, watching Yuri fuss over Sol with blatant disgust. For someone who insisted he was perfectly fine, he sure seemed jealous of the attention Sol was getting.
“Lady Yuri, let’s head to our lodgings. A warm bath and a proper meal should help you feel better.”
Gray showed them where they’d be staying before returning to the main hall of the Temple. He also explained—politely, but firmly—that the Temple grounds were under a barrier that prevented the use of aura or magic for attacks or any unlawful purpose. He asked them not to make any unnecessary commotion.
It was kind of him to warn them, but considering Yuri’s group had essentially been kidnapped, gratitude was not exactly what they felt. Still, judging by the burning glares from the other holy knights, perhaps it was fortunate they’d been given lodging instead of a cell.
“Yeah, let’s do that. Honestly, I swear this has to be the worst day ever.”
There was one thing she overlooked.
Saying “This is the worst” was the absolute worst flag one could raise—the kind that summoned an even worse disaster.
“Good heavens, who is this? Yuriann?”
Why… why was that voice here? At the high, thin voice ringing in her ears, Yuri hunched her shoulders instinctively. It was so familiar it made her physically recoil. She’d know that voice even in her nightmares. No, especially in her nightmares.
No way. No way in hell. Please tell me it’s not who I think it is…
For the first time in a long while, Yuri desperately sought divine intervention. But the gods had no mercy for lukewarm believers who only prayed when they needed something. Not only did they refuse to save her—they shoved her face-first into the mud.
“What—Yuriann? Yuriann?! You brat! Where the hell have you been—?!”
“Ha! And here I wondered who looked so pathetically shabby. It was you?”
Two more voices joined in, and Yuri felt faint.
Surely she was dreaming. She must have dozed off standing up after staying awake for two straight nights. That would be preferable—it had to be—because otherwise, this was a nightmare too cruel to be real.
But if it was real, she wanted to scream up at the heavens.
Why are you doing this to me?!
The heavens answered—not with salvation, but by delivering her “former friend,” her “former fiancé,” and her “former brother,” all standing right in front of her.
And each one—just like her—had the same X-shaped sinner’s brand burned into their foreheads.
* * *
〈Dun-dun!〉
[New arrivals to the sinner party: “(Backstabbing Fairy) Angela,” “(Daddy Is the Emperor) Taorn,” and “(Estranged Family Member) Bilrod”! (6/7)]
Look at their damn eyes.
The atmosphere in the reception room—now hosting all six of them—was as rotten as the X-shaped brands stamped on their foreheads.
Yuri pretended not to notice the three pairs of eyes glaring at her as if they wanted to burn her alive. She desperately wanted to retreat to her room, sink into hot water, and sleep without thinking—but she forced herself to stay. The Crown Prince of the Latem Empire, His Highness Taorn, insisted he must meet the High Priest immediately tonight. Late hour be damned.
From his stubbornness, it was clear he hadn’t come here willingly either.
At least I didn’t have to share a carriage with those guys. Small blessings.
Naturally, Gray’s squad wasn’t the only one searching the continent for the prophesied sinners. With the oracle’s announcement, the Grand Temple had mobilized dozens of holy knight units and dispatched them across the land. Yuri’s group had simply been unlucky enough to run into a Paladin.
Still, she had nothing to complain about. If even the Crown Prince of mighty Latem had been dragged here, then sooner or later she would’ve ended up here too. No avoiding fate.
She exhaled after a long bout of contemplation. The moment she showed any sign of emotion, the ever-petty Bilrod seized the chance to pick a fight.
“You—where the hell have you been hiding all this time? Damn it, your face got even dumber since I last saw you.”
“…”
Where had she been? In heaven. A beautiful place where she didn’t have to look at your face.
But instead of speaking her mind, Yuri chose silence. When Bilrod had that deranged look in his eyes, no answer would appease him. She was far too exhausted for pointless emotional labor.
Of course, silence didn’t stop him. He shouted that she was ignoring him, slammed the table, and looked ready to grab her. Sol stepped between them before he could reach her.
“Please stop.”
“You slave bastard, how dare you butt in? How are you even with Yuriann? Ha, I knew something was off—so you’ve been hiding her all this time?!”
“What did you just call him?”
Yuri finally spoke. Anyone working in politics knew Sol’s status now—Barf the young Marquess certainly should have known. Yet Bilrod’s behavior was no different from when Sol had been dependent on the ducal household.
And Sol… Sol was the same, too. Even though he no longer ranked below a mere marquess-to-be, he endured Bilrod’s insults without retorting. The sight was so infuriating that Yuri wanted to bite Bilrod on Sol’s behalf.
But just as Bilrod opened his mouth—one more word away from disaster—a mediator stepped in.
“Bilrod, stop it. And you too, Sir Bartholomew. Why are you two fighting the moment you reunite?”
