From what I had seen during the Hunt Festival, it was clear that Duke Ishtan Gladinare was deeply involved in all this. Maybe…
“What do you think about this, Commander?”
The Holy Knight Commander gave a crooked smile, one full of mockery, and then turned to look behind him.
“Is it true, then? Did the Duke really give this order?”
My mouth fell open before I could stop it.
Because from behind the curtain, someone stepped forward—
It was Duke Gladinare himself.
“Baroness.”
For a moment, a hundred thoughts flashed through my head.
But the Duke greeted me with the same calm, unreadable expression as always.
“…Your Grace.”
He turned his head toward the Commander.
“Yes. She’s someone I know.”
“Oh? So, Your Grace admits you sent someone to investigate this place without informing the Temple?”
The Duke’s eyes drifted slowly back to me.
“Baroness, why don’t you tell him yourself?”
“…”
“What exactly are you to me, that I would give you such an order?”
I didn’t hesitate. I dropped to one knee and answered clearly, as if I had been waiting for that very question.
“I, Anastasia Roxan, serve directly under Duke Ishtan Gladinare, carrying out his orders.”
A faint smile appeared on the Duke’s calm face.
I lowered my eyes.
It was exactly what he wanted me to say—
And strangely, I didn’t feel bad about it.
“He should be fine now that he’s taken the antidote.”
Zaka was asleep.
“Thank you. Will there be any side effects?”
“Not if he hasn’t been using the drug regularly.”
“I see.”
The Holy Knight who had escorted us earlier looked at me with open suspicion.
“Are you really all right, my Lady?”
“Oh, me? I’m fine.”
“…”
“Still, if you could give me another antidote, just in case—”
“If you’re fine, then you don’t need one.”
A priest had already examined me and confirmed that I was unharmed, but honestly, I still felt uneasy.
Apparently, though, they weren’t about to waste a precious antidote on my nerves.
Just then, a few knights arrived carrying large boxes filled with documents.
The edges were burned, but they were clearly the same papers Zaka and I had worked so hard to save.
I stretched my neck to peek inside—
Only for a broad-shouldered knight to step in front of me, blocking my view.
When I looked up, he was glaring down at me.
What? Couldn’t I even look?
I decided to act shamelessly.
“I’m on your side, you know.”
“And what does that have to do with this?”
“If it weren’t for me, all that would’ve gone up in flames!”
“Thank you.”
“…”
Oh, sure. Suddenly he’s cold and serious.
Wasn’t he the one who politely asked if I was a heretic before and brought me here safely?
Now he was pretending to be all strict!
That’s when a thought hit me.
“Wait a second. Do you know me?”
“You’re Baroness Roxan, aren’t you?”
“You looked like you recognized me right away. Is that why you didn’t kill me?”
“We can tell civilians from cultists. We don’t just kill everyone we find near them.”
His tone was irritated, but the way his eyes flicked away told me the truth—
He did know me.
Not personally, of course. We’d never met before.
But if he recognized me and still treated me with leniency instead of hostility…
There was only one possible link.
Friane Izanar.
“You… are you connected to Friane Izanar?”
“…”
He flinched slightly. While he searched for words, I glanced again into the box he had been blocking.
“…Huh?”
At the corner of one of the papers, I noticed a familiar symbol stamped in wax.
“That’s not just a report… it’s a letter.”
“Tch. My Lady, really,” the knight muttered, finally realizing I had seen it. He quickly handed the box to another soldier.
“I’ve verified it. Take it straight to the Commander.”
Where have I seen that symbol before?
I tried to remember, but the thought kept slipping away.
Was it a noble crest? Or maybe a mark from some organization…?
“By the way,” I asked, “I don’t see Sir Izanar around. Did he go somewhere else?”
“…Ah.”
The knight gave me a strange look—one that made me raise an eyebrow.
He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Would you like to meet him?”
“I’m not saying I want to—”
“Then follow me.”
…Why did everyone here keep telling me to follow them without explanation?
Even Duke Gladinare, a man of the military, wasn’t this curt.
I glanced back at where Zaka was lying.
The priest had said he’d be fine, but still… maybe it was best if I asked Sir Izanar to check on him personally.
I didn’t want to see Zaka like this because of me.
Maybe next time, I should plan a way to keep him out of danger entirely.
After asking a priest to look after him, I followed the knight.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going this time?”
“You didn’t seem afraid when you were sneaking around a heretic’s den. Why start asking questions now?”
“I wasn’t sneaking around. I was hiding.”
“…”
He didn’t respond, just kept walking down deeper and deeper levels.
The further we went, the fewer people we saw—until we reached a long, empty corridor with only blood stains marking the floor.
A chill crept up my spine.
Wait… am I being taken somewhere to be locked up?
I eyed the back of his neck suspiciously, debating if I should fake a stomachache and run for it.
Then he suddenly spoke.
“How much do you know about heresy?”
“As much as anyone else, I suppose.”
“Typical of a noble from the Capital.”
There was a faint trace of contempt in his voice, but I almost laughed.
He called me a typical noble!
No one had ever treated me like one before.
Should I thank him?
He glanced at me and frowned, as if my reaction wasn’t what he expected.
I looked around. “Aren’t we going to see Sir Izanar?”
“Tell me, Baroness—what do you think lies closest to heresy, yet is not heresy itself?”
“What?”
“Sometimes, knowing too much… becomes its own kind of curse.”
He stopped at a heavy door and turned to me.
“To look into the darkness, one must first step inside it.”
Splash.
Something wet squelched under my foot.
I looked down—blood was seeping from under the door.
“…Wait—what is this?”
The knight pushed the door open.
I instinctively looked up.
Someone stood in the darkness beyond.
Dim light flickered against the walls, and a shadow loomed, vast and heavy.
The metallic scent of blood hit my nose, thick and suffocating.
The knight stepped aside.
Something heavy fell with a dull thud at my feet.
A corpse—freshly dead.
A long sword, longer than usual, was buried deep in its chest.
From the darkness, a pale hand reached out and gripped the sword’s hilt.
Hot drops of blood splattered across my face.
The sword was pulled free.
I blinked, frozen.
As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I saw him clearly.
A tall figure, swaying as if barely standing, leaning on his blood-stained sword.
His white priest’s robes—once immaculate—were soaked deep crimson, dripping at the hem.
His long silver hair, usually like soft starlight, was tangled and clotted with dried blood.
And his eyes—brighter and redder than blood itself—stared at me with no focus, no mercy.
A cold, killing intent filled the air.
The knight beside me spoke quietly.
“This is Friane Izanar.”
“…”
“Holy Knight—and one of only four Inquisitors of the Empire.”
His silver hair shimmered faintly in the dark, surrounded by shadows.
The light seemed almost holy—yet it only made the darkness around him feel even deeper.
The one who judged and executed heretics.
A man wrapped in mystery and fear.
Friane Izanar—
The Inquisitor of the Holy Order.
