Chapter 83
In the Grand Temple, Lucife was receiving a report.
“A group that worships the Sun God, you say.”
“…Yes. Duke Demian Abiche has already suppressed them, but it seems they’re still active beneath the surface.”
“Faith is not something that dies easily. His Holiness the Pope must have quite the headache with this.”
Lucife clicked his tongue after hearing the report.
No matter how much one suppresses them, faith only grows stronger. In such cases, the answer was to show undeniable fear.
“So, have you found out where they’re active?”
“Yes. We have. But… there’s something unusual.”
“What is it?”
“Our priests who infiltrated them claim to have seen Lady Abiche worshiping with the heretics.”
Lucife tapped the table.
“There are two daughters of House Abiche.”
“It was Katrina Abiche.”
Her?
A woman who had never once shown any interest in faith, suddenly joining heretics?
“We haven’t yet confirmed what kind of position Katrina Abiche holds among them. She may not have been admitted into the hidden gatherings.”
There had to be a reason behind this.
The only recent incident concerning her was…
Demian Abiche falling under a curse. Other than that, nothing particularly noteworthy.
So why would she suddenly start attending such gatherings?
“Well, this is convenient. Since His Holiness is already troubled, I shall go see for myself.”
Katrina returned to the mansion and went to see Demian.
He was asleep in his room.
His pale skin looked even more deathly white. She wondered if he might just die at any moment.
Seeing Demian reminded her of another woman.
A woman with the same jet-black hair as him.
Katrina remembered the moment of that woman’s death.
Her white skin was paler than ever before. Katrina had never seen skin so white.
Arabella only slept as though dead.
And one day, after endless slumber, she vanished from the world.
Katrina looked at her son.
I’ll come back later.
She turned to leave—
Tap.
Her wrist was caught.
Demian had woken.
“What is it?”
He was in complete disarray.
The usual composed, restrained look was gone. Katrina found this version of him strange.
Since childhood, he had always been neat, dignified, and obsessed with decorum.
A boy who could not tolerate even the smallest disorder.
But now, he looked like he could fall apart if she merely reached out her hand.
And once again, that image overlapped with the memory of a certain woman.
Arabella’s long hair spilled out in all directions, her figure reminiscent of a corpse.
Her son hadn’t gone that far—yet.
Silently, Katrina brushed back Demian’s disheveled hair.
She often wondered.
Why had that perfect woman fallen apart overnight?
Her fingertips slid across his hair, and her nail grazed his forehead.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Demian yanked her hand away.
“Why did you come here? Stop doing nonsense like this and state your business, Katrina.”
“I had something to say, but…”
The heretics who worship the Sun God want to kill you, and then me.
I came here to deal with it together with you, but…
Seeing you like this, it’s better not to tell you.
If she dragged him there now, it would cause even bigger problems.
The Demian of old would have been helpful. But the current Demian… better to leave him be.
“Forget it. I won’t say anything.”
“…What are you even here for?”
Demian clicked his tongue, exasperated.
He was unusually irritable. Understandably so—how much pain had he endured under that curse?
“Hey, Demian.”
Katrina hesitated whether to say it or not.
But in the end, she spoke.
“Can you kiss me?”
Demian’s expression twisted.
Oh, how long had it been since she’d seen him fail at keeping a straight face?
He hated her. So of course he would never do something like that.
“Fine. I’ll go.”
“Wait.”
Demian grabbed her again, and Katrina turned back.
“Why would you ask something like that?”
“Just forget it.”
He wouldn’t do it anyway.
Katrina decided that next time she met Priest Helaio, she would refuse his proposal.
Originally, I was going to inform the Pope about what’s happening in the Sun Circle…
But if that meant cursing Demian? Impossible.
She canceled the idea of reporting it to the Temple.
If they wanted to lift Demian’s curse, then…
At present, the only way was for Demian to personally kill the one who cursed him.
So until they found out who it was, he had to stay alive.
“I’ll go now.”
“And what about you? Could you do it?”
Demian suddenly asked her.
Katrina froze.
…Well.
Probably not.
Our relationship was far too broken.
“You couldn’t, could you.”
Demian pierced straight through her.
His gaze dropped from her black eyes downward.
“And neither can I.”
A bitter smile spread across his lips.
“How could I do something so disgusting.”
“…”
“I find you revolting, Katrina.”
Katrina’s expression hardened.
Of course she already knew he hated her. He didn’t need to say it aloud.
“Fine, same here. I hate you too, Demian.”
“Then why—”
“I found out who cursed you. It’s the Sun God’s followers.”
Demian’s eyes widened.
“They said they’ll kill you first, then me.”
“…”
“If we can just find out which one of them cursed you, then we can lift it. But I don’t know who it is.”
Katrina walked over to his desk.
She picked up his quill and pulled out a random sheet of paper.
“I’ll write down the location and date. If you want to come, come.”
Demian watched her actions with a grim face.
“But if you do come, you’d better be prepared.”
I warned you.
Katrina attended the heretics’ gathering once again.
Which one of them cursed Demian?
Her eyes swept slowly over the group.
These were the people who wanted to kill Demian—and then her.
They wanted her dead…
Ha.
She scoffed quietly. That would never happen.
Suddenly, she found them laughable.
These fools had no idea that the very woman they intended to kill was right there among them.
At that moment, Priest Helaio approached Katrina.
He looked at her with an angry face.
“Did you not say you would bring your younger brother?”
His tone dripped with disappointment.
She had written down the date and place, but Demian hadn’t come.
The Demian she knew would have shown up.
Perhaps he was simply too ill—she tried to understand.
“Could it be that your brother lacks true faith?”
His expression twisted with malice as he accused her.
Right now, his anger was directed at Katrina.
“Why did your brother not come?”
“My brother is—”
“Sister, I’m here.”
At that moment—
A pair of blood-red eyes curved as they met hers.
Why was it Lucife standing there instead of Demian?
Katrina was dumbfounded.
…Wasn’t this bastard insane?
