HPL 09

chapter 09

When the Meary family was finally out of sight, I let go of Roy’s arm and stopped walking.

“We ran together just now… but why did you run away? Don’t priests usually want to spread their god’s faith to others?”

Roy tilted his head, looking puzzled, so I wagged my index finger side to side.

“That’s a stereotype too. And the god I serve isn’t merciful, doesn’t have the best personality, and only cares about himself.”

{Wow, roasting your own god. Nicely done.}

Tommy snickered, but Roy, who didn’t know the situation, wore a baffled expression.

“Can someone who believes in a god really say that?”

“Believing isn’t the same as blindly praising. And gods aren’t perfect. They each have their own quirks. They’re not that different from humans.”

Roy stared at me intently.

What? Are you going to accuse me of blasphemy? Doesn’t look like you even have much faith yourself.

As if to prove me right, Roy just shrugged.

“You’re strange. Anyway, what are you going to do with that orb?”

“I’ll hand it over to the temple. Purifying evil spirits takes practice, you know.”

Normally, once an evil spirit is captured, I’d return to the divine realm immediately. But I couldn’t return right now.

I could give it to Tommy when he reports back to the Creator once a week, but maybe it’d be better to hand it over as training material for the clumsy priests.

It’d also be a good way to let the temple think I was acting under divine will by capturing evil spirits.

As I spoke, the evil spirit inside the orb screeched loudly.

So noisy.

I winced, but oddly enough, Roy also furrowed his brows.

Strange. The orb was set to maximum output, so only someone with strong divine power should be able to hear it.

But every time the spirit shrieked, Roy reacted as if he heard something unpleasant.

“Can you hear what the spirit’s saying?”

Surprised, I asked. Roy gave a small nod.

“I can’t make out the words, but it sounds like nails scratching on iron.”

Come to think of it, people with unusually high mana can sometimes sense traces of evil spirits. Could this be one of those cases?

“Hold still, I need to touch you for a moment.”

The moment I placed my hands on his body, Roy flinched. When I didn’t stop there and continued checking here and there, he looked uncharacteristically unsettled.

“Uh?”

His hands kept twitching, debating whether to push me away.

“Relax. I’m not going to eat you. I’m just checking if you’ve got mana.”

“Mana?”

He repeated, confused, so I explained simply:

“People with divine power or mana can faintly hear evil spirits.”

Lowering my gaze, I channeled divine energy into Roy’s body.

If there’s no mana, divine power flows smoothly with no resistance. But if there is mana, you feel a slight pushback. It’s weak, but distinctly different.

After sensing for a while, I pulled my hand away and tilted my head.

“Roy, you’ve got a lot of mana. Did you know?”

“I have mana? No, I had no idea. The slave traders didn’t know either. If a slave has a special ability, they’re kept under stricter control.”

He looked down at his body with fascination.

People with plenty of mana usually become mages. A rare few become magic swordsmen, channeling mana into their blades.

I decided to test him, so I taught him the simplest magic incantation.

Roy obediently recited it, but nothing happened.

So, not a mage. Should I test if he’s a magic swordsman?

Magic swordsmen awaken under emotional extremes, in addition to raw talent.

I picked up a stick nearby and placed it in his hand.

“Okay, imagine you’re a champion of justice, burning with righteousness. Swing this stick with that conviction.”

“…”

Roy just stared at me. Right, you’re not exactly the righteous champion type.

“Fine. Then imagine someone you absolutely want to crush is right in front of you. Swing it like you mean it.”

“…Are you kidding me?”

Roy’s aura grew colder, but nothing happened to the stick.

Well, if he were a mage or magic swordsman, he would’ve resisted divine power more.

I quickly snatched the stick from his hand, tossed it aside, and changed the subject.

“I saw you fighting earlier—you were good.”

Roy gave me a long look, then shrugged and said flatly, as if it had nothing to do with him:

“It’s like my body remembers how to move.”

What must it feel like to not even know yourself?

“Bring it here.”

I narrowed my eyes as I spoke, and the maids scurried around. They handed me food piled much higher than before.

I glanced over the tray, checking the amount, and the maids swallowed nervously.

Hm. Enough to share with Roy.

When I turned to leave, I heard them sigh in relief behind me.

{You just got food normally. Why does it look like you shook them down?}

Tommy hovered around the dishes as he spoke.

That’s how it is—those women grovel to the strong but lord over someone weaker like Daina.

On my way back to the annex, I happened to run into the baroness and Ariel.

They glanced at the tray in my hands and sneered.

“Are you going to eat all that yourself? People will think you’re keeping a pet or something.”

“Exactly. Are you secretly raising a dog?”

Since seeing me use divine power, they no longer dared openly insult me. Instead, they twisted their words with sarcasm.

“I hear the cooks complain they have to prepare too much food lately. Shouldn’t the one who eats the most be paying their wages?”

The baroness dragged out her words with mockery. Well then, I had something to say too.

“You’ve been pocketing the gifts sent from the temple, haven’t you? Why not pay the cooks with that?”

My sudden shift in tone startled both the baroness and Ariel—they mistook it for an advanced form of sarcasm.

I’d only switched to formal speech in case a temple servant overheard, but it had an unexpected effect.

When I mentioned the gifts, Ariel hurriedly changed the subject.

“The countess is hosting a tea party in a week. She’s fond of Mother and me, so she said you could come too. Don’t embarrass us—be prepared.”

She didn’t bother explaining who the countess was or how to prepare.

I knew, but if I were the real Daina, I’d have panicked. She probably said it just to watch me fluster. Too bad—I won’t give her that satisfaction.

So instead I replied calmly, changing the topic.

“But if the cooks are complaining, aren’t the guards saying anything?”

“Guards? What are you talking about all of a sudden?”

Ariel’s thin brows twitched.

So she hadn’t heard about the underworld thugs. Well, if someone could sneak in and strangle Daina, that tells you all you need to know about the guards’ competence.

I told them I was going to eat and left. They grumbled behind me, but I ignored them.

Annoyed, aren’t you? The Daina you used to look down on won’t bow anymore. Get used to it—it’ll be the new normal.

Back in my room, I tapped the wall lightly three times.

Hearing the signal, Roy emerged from the dressing room.

We ate lunch together, then slipped out of the manor. I wanted info on the underworld types lurking near the baron’s estate, and Roy was after intel on nobles with a taste for slave-shopping.

While wandering among the crowds gathering information, Roy suddenly moved closer.

Strange—he never does that first.

In seconds, I understood why.

“Two men have been following us for a while,” Roy whispered, barely moving his lips.

I glanced at shop windows, pretending to browse, and looked back. Too many people—I couldn’t pick them out.

But Roy had noticed.

Whoever they were, we’d find out by moving. They’d keep tailing us.

Roy gave me a look, suggesting we lure them. I nodded slightly.

We started weaving through the crowd quickly. Soon I spotted them—two brown-haired men trailing us. So, it’s them.

They didn’t look suspicious—quite the opposite, they had kind faces. But the fact they both wore gloves only on their left hands bothered me.

Roy and I slipped into narrower streets, turning corners naturally.

The crowd thinned, but the two men still followed.

We exchanged a glance, then bolted down a left alley. Behind us, footsteps quickened—they were chasing.

We pressed against the wall by the corner and waited. When the men rounded the bend, we stuck our legs out.

“Ah!”

“Whoa!”

They stumbled but managed not to fall completely. Still, that pause was enough.

I bound one man’s arms and waist with threads of divine light.

Meanwhile, Roy disarmed the other, snatching the dagger hidden on him.

How did he even know he had a dagger? Impressive.

The man didn’t share my admiration. Not when Roy pressed that dagger to his throat.

“Who are you?” Roy asked coldly.

Were they hired by the slave traders or the woman who bought Roy? Or did they want something from Daina?

I studied them, my questions piling up, while Roy’s sharp gaze pinned them down.

“Figures. Everything that bastard makes us do turns out like this,” one muttered.

“Our lives have been ruined ever since we got mixed up with him as kids,” said the other.

Roy’s aura grew sharper.

“Who is this ‘him’?”

“There’s this demon bastard who’s been using us since childhood.”

“Always smiling, pretending to be some kind young master—he’s a devil in disguise.”

My ears perked at the phrase they both used: demon bastard?

Just then, a bright, cheerful voice cut in:

“Wow, harsh. Calling a childhood friend a demon bastard?”

Roy and I quickly turned toward the voice.

We’d been so focused on the men that we hadn’t noticed anyone nearby.

Daina’s body really was dull, so me missing it was one thing. But for even Roy, who was always on guard, not to notice—the newcomer had to be skilled.

The one who appeared was a boy with white hair.

His hair was like freshly fallen snow, while his eyes were a vivid sky blue. His face still had traces of youth, but his frame was tall and slender.

When his gaze fell on me, he smiled softly, red lips curving gracefully. Like he knew me.