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chapter 21
“Give up if you can’t do it? Is that something the High Priest should be saying?!”
“Did my words offend you?”
Apparently, it wasn’t only Julian who thought so. Teorn and Bilrod exploded, and for this moment at least, even Sol and Lucas agreed. A priest might be used to speaking of divine tests or the whims of gods, but these people had not lived their whole lives as “sinners.” Hollow comfort was worse than nothing to them.
Seeing the collective dissatisfaction on their faces, the High Priest blinked in surprise. Yet he did not shrink before the stares of the room. Instead, he lazily stroked his jaw and hummed, as if thinking. Then, without the slightest guilt, he swept aside the comfort he had offered.
“Very well. Then repent with everything you have. If the world ends, it will be entirely your fault.”
The High Priest threw his “comfort” in the trash and stabbed them with lethal bluntness. Gentle words became thorns lodged in their hearts. Blunt thorns hurt more. Everyone instinctively realized this journey would be anything but short.
* * *
A storm of a day passed. After hearing the High Priest’s shocking “If everything collapses, it’s all your fault,” Julian returned to her assigned room, lay down, and sighed. Then she realized the real problem wasn’t the world-ending future—it was something much more urgent.
‘I can’t sleep.’
Her body and mind were exhausted, yet her eyes refused to close. It had already been three days. Three full days without a wink of sleep.
It wasn’t the cheap wooden bed, though she wouldn’t have minded a better one since the Grand Temple practically monopolized the religious industry. Still, she had once wandered the borderlands sleeping between rocks—this was nothing.
No, it was the lightning. Ever since being struck by lightning on the Oracle Day, she hadn’t been able to sleep at all.
‘I need to get a sleeping pill.’
If sleep won’t come, you take it by force. She had no desire to embarrass herself again in front of others like she did before with that ridiculous nosebleed. And without sleep, her temper was getting worse. There were quite a few people here she could consider enemies; if her judgment slipped and she ended up choking someone, she might really become a criminal next time.
She threw on her coat roughly and reached for the door—
SLAM!
“Move, slave.”
The moment her hand touched the doorknob, a sharp voice pierced through the wooden door, dripping with murderous contempt. The voice could only belong to one person—Bilrod Vaph, her former brother.
And since he said “slave” again, Julian easily guessed who he was talking to.
“It’s late. Please return.”
“Oh? ‘Return’? Ordering me around now? You used to grovel at my feet if I so much as glared at you. Look at you, all grown up now!”
As expected—Bilrod and Sol were outside her door. Bilrod was gripping Sol’s collar, trying to shove him aside, but Sol didn’t budge, which only aggravated Bilrod even more.
Just then, Sol flicked his gaze toward the door behind him. And suddenly, the body that had been immovable as stone shifted. Bilrod grinned triumphantly—I knew it—and took a step forward.
At the same moment, the door burst open.
THUD.
“Ugh!”
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
Bilrod collapsed, clutching his face. His sister didn’t pity him at all.
From Julian’s point of view, it looked like Bilrod was bullying Sol for no reason. Sol was always painfully kind, while Bilrod was a violent brat who threw whatever he wanted whenever he felt like it.
“Are you a thug? Why are you bothering someone who’s done nothing?”
“What— a thug? Excuse me?!”
“If you don’t like ‘thug,’ I can call you a punk instead.”
Naturally, she rushed forward to shield Sol. Bilrod actually was somewhat wronged, but the situation looked terrible, so there was no room for excuses. Instead, he yelled even louder like a man who had something to hide.
“You— you, Julian! Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?!”
“You’ve got a mouth, don’t you? What more do you need? You clearly came here to say something, so spit it out and go home.”
“You! It’s all your fault! Everything! Do you know what humiliation I suffered because you left?!”
Bilrod launched into a dramatic tirade. Because she became a sinner, the family’s prestige dropped and he was kicked out of the social club, the duties of the household fell entirely on him, and he had to reduce his precious seven hours of sleep to six. He had to care for flowers in the greenhouse he didn’t even like, and choose curtain patterns for guest rooms—an ordeal so traumatic his voice trembled.
When he shouted with a red face, “Lilies or daisies—just seeing a floral pattern makes my skin crawl!”, Julian pressed her lips together.
…What did he want her to say? If he hates florals, he can choose plaid. A grown adult crying over curtain fabric? This man was the true greenhouse flower.
“For three years, I worked my bones to protect our family, while you were out giggling with a slave! And now you and I are the same kind of sinner? I refuse to accept it!”
“And why tell me? Tell God.”
“God?! So now you want me dead too?!”
Julian gazed upward with serene resignation. She could prove him wrong logically, but she knew Bilrod too well. This oversized, spoiled brat never backed down until he exhausted his tantrum. It was faster to let it wash over her than to argue.
“Back when you wore luxurious dresses or now when you wear that rag, you’re still a villain! The thought that we share the same blood makes me nauseous! Someone like you—someone like you—!”
“Someone like me what?”
“Bark bark! Woof woof!!”
If only he hadn’t suddenly started barking.
“…I’m sorry, what?”
“Woof! RRRR-arf! Grrrr woof woof!”
What? Bilrod barked until he became a dog?
Julian stared at him, eyes trembling, while Bilrod also froze, hearing the sounds spilling from his own mouth. His face reddened like a ripe apple, then darkened, purpling with humiliation.
“J-just you wait, woof!”
Drenched in shame, he shot that final declaration and fled down the hall like an arrow. Quite a pathetic exit for someone who barked so boldly.
“…What was that?”
“He seemed to be barking, my lady.”
“Is that, like, a new noble fad?”
Sol only shook his head. Even the most bored aristocrats wouldn’t create a trend like that—holding back laughter maybe, but not genuine barking. Judging from Bilrod’s face, it wasn’t intentional.
So was it an outburst caused by anger? But no matter how dog-like his temperament, Bilrod Vaph was still biologically human. And judging by how he ran away, he remembered everything. It looked more like he’d lost control of himself. Most importantly…
‘His forehead glowed.’
When he barked, the sinner’s mark on his forehead shone brightly. Even a three-year-old would realize this had something to do with becoming a sinner. It was just too absurd to immediately connect the dots.
