CHAPTER 91…………………………..
At the familiar voice, Ijef’s eyes flew open, and he abruptly sat up.
“Ijef, are you all right?”
Asterios approached him as he gasped for breath.
“…Your Grace.”
“Do you remember collapsing? What happened?”
The worried tone in Asterios’s voice overlapped with the gentle voice Ijef had heard moments ago.
[Bring him to me now.]
Bring him to me?
“Ah.”
Surely, that didn’t mean Asterios…
Cold sweat trickled down Ijef’s back. He couldn’t—mustn’t—do anything that would endanger Asterios.
“…I couldn’t even send word on paper. It feels as though someone’s taken up residence inside my head. They might be sharing everything I see and hear.”
Though still breathing raggedly, Ijef spoke quickly. Asterios understood immediately what he meant. Ijef was warning him not to say anything important—because through Ijef’s eyes and ears, someone else might be listening.
His transparent brown eyes trembled with fear. Asterios took his hand and held it tightly.
“It’s all right, don’t worry. Just focus on resting and regaining your strength.”
But Ijef pushed his hand away.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace. You mustn’t come near me.”
“Ijef…?”
He shook off Asterios’s hand and straightened up.
The voice that had echoed in his head now seemed to buzz right beside his ear.
Bring him to me.
A headache followed, but he clenched his teeth and endured it.
“Forgive me. I’ll take my leave.”
“Wait, Ijef—”
“You don’t need to concern yourself with me anymore.”
Rejecting his concern with a pale face, Ijef trudged toward the door.
Asterios didn’t stop him. The meaning behind his actions was all too clear. He could only furrow his brow in silence.
He’s in pieces himself, yet instead of asking for help, he’s pushing me away to protect me.
Before Asterios could say anything, Ijef had already opened the door and left.
His staggering steps were painful to watch, but Asterios only watched quietly—and at the same time, he felt relief.
Ijef was still Ijef. He had not succumbed to anyone’s control or temptation. He wasn’t a spy for the Holy Pope, nor a puppet of someone else.
“Admirable.”
“Yes. But even so, you mustn’t place full trust in him.”
Though Asterios was alone in the room, a voice that had read his thoughts answered.
Moments later, the shadows rippled, and the voice’s owner appeared—eyes glowing red in the dark.
“Nox.”
“I’ve returned, Master.”
Asterios smiled faintly, though his eyes gleamed sharply as he extinguished all light from the room. His mana sealed the space completely in silence.
“Took longer than I expected.”
There were too many eyes and ears around—and his adversaries were the Holy Pope and Mephisto. Though he had agreed to cooperate with Mephisto earlier that day, Asterios knew full well that Mephisto would not hesitate to betray him the moment it became convenient.
Nox knew it too. Once he confirmed that the area was fully sealed off, he began his report.
“There was an unexpected discovery, which delayed me.”
“Unexpected?”
Nox leaned in and whispered quietly.
“It seems the last of the Celestial Angels Mephisto is looking for… is in Dreath.”
“…What?”
“I found a record stating that when the five Celestial Angels descended from the heavens, their leader brought only three with him to Graham. Tracing the missing one’s fall led me to Dreath.”
“Only one was sent elsewhere?”
“Whether by intent or accident, I couldn’t tell. But what’s certain is that only four Angels—Gabriel among them—came to Graham from the start.”
“So the Holy Pope either hid the last Angel or lost them entirely.”
That meant anyone originally from Graham was excluded from being the missing Angel.
“So it’s not Ijef or Daniel.”
Asterios frowned, thinking it through.
Eliminating the two most likely suspects left him uneasy.
“That’s my conclusion, yes.”
After hearing Nox’s answer, Asterios lifted his gaze slightly.
“Where did you find this information?”
“In the Holy Pope’s chambers. I couldn’t enter before, but this time I used the moment when the new moon darkened the light and moonlight seeped in.”
It was likely true. Still, could Gregorian have planted false records to mislead intruders?
Possible—but if he doubted everything, he’d learn nothing at all. He had to move forward with the information he had.
“Then perhaps the Angel we’re searching for is the white-haired woman Mephisto mentioned.”
Nox frowned at that.
“Can we trust his words? You are the one he fears most—I doubt he spoke the truth so easily.”
“It’s true enough. Sharing it was his way of showing temporary alliance.”
If Nox’s findings were real, and the Angel truly was that white-haired woman, they had to find her before the Holy Pope did.
“We’ll mobilize our own people from the Grand Duchy. I’ll inform Her Highness the Princess. Nox—search for anyone who once had white hair but dyed it.”
“Yes, Master.”
As Nox prepared to disappear into the darkness, his gaze caught on a small seed resting carefully on Asterios’s cloak.
“What’s that seed, Master?”
“Ah…”
Asterios looked at the seed on the table and smiled.
“It’ll be the flower that proves my confession.”
“Your… confession?”
Nox blinked, recalling the candidates in the palace busily planting seeds and tending to flowerpots.
“Ah, this must be the second competition theme. Unexpected.”
“Yes. None of them saw it coming.”
“If you received it today, shouldn’t you plant it soon? Most of the others already have.”
Asterios smiled with quiet amusement.
“I know this particular seed blooms exactly three weeks after planting. I’ll sow it at a precise time—so it blooms exactly when I want it to.”
“When you want it to…?”
“Shh.” Asterios raised a finger to his lips and chuckled.
“That’s a secret—even from you. Just make sure no darkness touches that flower’s surroundings, Nox.”
Leaving that warning, Asterios smiled and exited the room. His charm was so effortless that even Nox blinked in surprise.
“Did he always have that side to him?”
Muttering to himself, Nox melted back into the shadows.
“I’ve brought what His Holiness requested.”
Nair, her hood drawn low, stood before the Holy Pope’s chamber in Dreath with a man at her side.
It was past evening, the halls quiet, guarded by Dreath’s soldiers and priests attending the Pope.
She carried a basket in her hands—but what the Pope wanted wasn’t in the food inside. It was her.
The man beside her had been ordered by the Pope to find and bring a white-haired woman. He’d used the excuse of a “special request,” but in truth, she herself was the delivery.
“Wait here.”
The priest guarding the door entered, and soon Daniel emerged.
Huh? The Grand Sage?
Nair peeked up from under her hood.
“This woman?”
Daniel asked the man, then glanced briefly at Nair. Her artificially dyed white hair spilled from beneath her hood.
“Not even close. She’s not the one.”
He dismissed them at once, told the man to keep searching, and shut the door.
Nair hadn’t even seen Gregorian’s face before being sent away.
“What the hell? If they know what she looks like, why not just say so?”
Outside the palace, the man grumbled as he shoved payment into Nair’s hand and hurried off. Her effort—parading her white hair before strangers—had been for nothing.
Something’s off.
Frowning, Nair slipped into a deserted alley, changed her appearance in an instant, and sprinted straight toward Mephisto’s chambers.
