EVHE 58

Chapter 58

For someone raised in the blood-soaked underworld, peace was nothing but a dull, monotonous life.

The temple work was always the same, and even the occasional requests that came in were tedious. He never managed to form good relationships—only constant friction with those around him.

Everyone seemed locked in place, unable to step outside the bounds of expectation.

Yes—everyone except for that one person.

Saint had added her into his already crowded mind. His thoughts became more complicated, but he didn’t find it unpleasant.

“Elrond?”

It was the first time a name had caught his eye. A brief skim told him it was a place rich with small animals and plants.

“She seemed interested in nature…”

He thought of Lilis, who especially liked the temple library’s garden.

Saint tore out the section on Elrond and slipped it into his pocket. Just as he rose from his seat, the pendant bound to his arm began to hum and vibrate.

The pendant vibrating meant the High Priest was calling for him.

Without hesitation, Saint made his way to the third floor where the High Priest resided. But what he saw there was strange, alien.

A gray-haired man entering the prayer room—someone Saint knew well. But the person walking beside him was not so familiar.

“Flood.”

Normally, Saint would have ignored it, but this time he called out to Flood.

Those cloudy gray eyes wandered aimlessly before locking directly onto Saint.

A chilling pressure shot up his spine, but he didn’t show it. Flood was far too unsettling to be called a fellow priest blessed by the same god.

“Who is that man?”

Of course, Saint already knew.

Tain of the Broke family—supposedly from a great line of archmages. Yet, in person, he looked far more pitiful than the written reports had suggested.

“Outsiders aren’t allowed here at this hour.”

Especially not mages.

Priests and mages thought differently, pursued different ideals, and clashed constantly. The temple and mages were in perpetual conflict.

“Saint.”

Flood only smiled softly, fixing him with a gentle gaze.

His lips curved in a smile, but his eyes remained flat. When those dull eyes met Saint’s, his body froze.

The hallway fell silent, as if time itself had stopped. Then Flood chuckled lightly.

“What brings you here at this hour?”

The moment Flood asked, Saint flinched.

“…Ah.”

Shaking off the haze clouding his mind, he straightened his posture.

“The High Priest summoned me. I was on my way.”

Flood nodded kindly.

“Then you’d better hurry along.”

Saint bowed briefly and walked past him.

He didn’t suspect a thing—as if he had forgotten the strangeness of just moments before.

At last, he reached the High Priest’s office. The man sat comfortably on the sofa, steam rising from the teacup in his hand as he savored his leisure.

On the table before Saint’s seat, however, there was no teacup—only a stack of papers.

“There’s something I need you to do.”

The moment he sat, the High Priest cut straight to the point.

Saint naturally lowered his gaze to the documents. At the edge of the papers was a familiar face sketched in portrait.

He blinked twice in disbelief, unsure if his eyes were deceiving him.

“What is this?”

His voice quivered with uncharacteristic emotion.

He lifted his head toward the High Priest. As always, the man’s smile was calm and serene.

It was the High Priest who had pulled Saint out of the underworld—meaning he was one of the few who knew his past in full.

And if such a man were summoning him at this late hour, thrusting someone’s file into his hands…

“It’s only surveillance.”

The High Priest cut off any speculation with a decisive tone.

“Just find out where she goes, what she does, and what she says.”

His words were delivered as lightly as idle conversation.

“You’re aware that, with priests dying in accidents lately, we are facing an unprecedented shortage of manpower?”

The pressure in his tone wasn’t a request—it was an order.

“What wrong has Lady Crescent done?”

For the first time, Saint quietly pushed back.

The portrait on the file was none other than Lilis.

“What wrong…?”

The High Priest only chuckled.

“This too is simply the will of God.”

In other words, don’t question—just obey.

Reluctantly, Saint picked up the file. He glared at the High Priest, scowling deeply, before rising abruptly from his seat.

Despite appearances, Saint’s faith ran deep. The High Priest was the one who conveyed God’s will, and so any task assigned by him should be carried out without doubt.

And, as the man had said, this was only surveillance—not murder.

But there was no guarantee it would end there. One day, he might be ordered to kill Lilis himself.

The thought left him hollow. Only minutes ago, he had been thinking of where to take her for an outing. Now it all seemed like a dream.

“This too… is the will of God.”

He repeated the High Priest’s last words in his mind.

For him, faith was paramount—an inviolable domain none could trespass.

“Is she truly so important to me that I would defy God?”

Neither yes nor no came easily.

“If God hadn’t pulled me out of that pit, I never would have met her at all.”

Therefore, what must come first was clear.

Saint forced the file’s details into memory. Then, burning the papers to ash with magic, he slipped out of the temple without leaving a trace.

That day too, I arrived at the library as usual to study magic.

I was excited to see what I’d learn this time—but what awaited me was nothing but ten dry theory books.

For nearly two hours I slogged through them, fighting off sleep.

Stretching loudly, I tried to shake off the drowsiness. My bones and muscles creaked in protest.

That’s when my eyes drifted to Saint, seated across from me.

“What’s with your face?”

His chin rested on his hand as he stared blankly at the wall. He looked uncharacteristically troubled.

Even when I called to him, he didn’t respond. He had never ignored me completely before.

“Hey?”

Only after I called again did his head finally turn toward me.

But that was all. His mind was clearly elsewhere.

“Why are you—”

“What do you think about learning swordsmanship?”

He cut me off with a question so abrupt I blinked.

“Are you saying I’m no good at magic?”

I pouted, glaring at him.

What else could he mean, changing the subject mid-lesson?

It wasn’t as if I’d ever failed to keep up. Sure, I’d stumbled over shields once or twice… but still.

To me, what he said was downright insulting.

“I’m really good at magic, you know! I’m practically at academy level already!”

Of course, in truth, I was nowhere near ready for the academy. But a little exaggeration never hurt when making a point.

More importantly, I couldn’t let him drop these lessons. Without him, how was I supposed to protect myself?

“I can even cast shields with no problem now. Look, I’ll show you!”

I jumped to my feet and went to stand near a bare wall.

Unlike before, the mana flowed easily, forming a shield without strain. It even felt stronger than the one I’d managed during that last request.

“Go ahead—try to attack it!”

I spread my arms wide, brimming with confidence.

This time, I’d prove myself once and for all. He’d never dare suggest stopping our lessons again.

“Come on—”

Before I could finish urging him—

A loud thunk! rang out as a blade grazed my hair and buried itself in the wall. My eyes snapped wide to see where it had come from.

At the other end stood Saint, one hand gripping the sword, his pale blue eyes fixed on me.

At first I thought he was simply preoccupied, but now… now he looked sunken, as if dragged down into some fathomless abyss.

“Why doesn’t it work? Is it just my bad condition today… strange.”

Muttering excuses to myself, I quickly averted my gaze. Then, cautiously, I glanced back at him.

“Did I… do something wrong?”

I racked my brain, but nothing came to mind.

“…But really, wouldn’t it be best if you taught me swordsmanship?”

Desperate, I hurriedly shifted the subject.

“Don’t you have anyone else to teach you?”

“Hmm…”

Rochelle had never been described as good with a sword. And Calix—ugh. Just the thought of training under him made me tired.

“…Sir Lake?”

With my pitifully thin connections, he was the only other option I could think of. But when I mentioned him, Saint’s face darkened instantly.

“Well then, you can teach me yourself!”

I snapped in frustration.

At that, Saint wrenched the sword from the wall and stepped back. He slumped into his seat once more.

“Forget it.”

Why was he acting like this?

I was so exasperated I thought I might explode.