Chapter 85………………………………..
“Yeah.”
“Are you saying there’s another shaman besides the Holy Pontiff that we have to deal with?”
The three men looked at one another.
“……”
How likely was that? Could there really exist a sorcerer or shaman strong enough to wield such overwhelming magic, yet still remain hidden from their eyes? Each quickly sank into his own thoughts and calculations.
Between the men, arms crossed and lips sealed, a cold tension drifted.
“That’s why I asked Mephisto that question. Because I’m suspicious of the Holy Pontiff.”
At Asterios’ words, Mephisto let out a short, derisive chuckle. Then, looking entertained, he crossed one leg over the other and touched his fingertips together.
“You mean that question about whether powerful divine power is the same as magic? Hmph. If that were true, then even the Demon Realm would respond to the Pontiff, wouldn’t it?”
At those words, Edwin’s eyes widened. The implication was that someone with immense divine power could also dominate the Demon Realm.
“No way. That’s impossible. It doesn’t make sense.”
The Demon Realm ruled by the Pontiff?
“The Pontiff wouldn’t want that to begin with, would he?”
When Edwin demanded an answer, Asterios quietly parted his lips. His gaze remained locked on Mephisto, the dark sorcerer who seemed to know something yet had no intention of easily giving it up.
“What if he has a reason—for Heaven’s sake?”
At that, Edwin’s jaw dropped.
“No way!”
“He’s confirming it.”
Confirming it? At Edwin’s shock, Mephisto’s lips stretched into a longer smile.
“Ahh. You’re quite the sight right now.”
Snickering, he spoke again. No wonder something had felt strange when the Pontiff unleashed his divine power. Narrowing his eyes at Mephisto’s mutter, Asterios watched as the dark sorcerer stared straight at him and murmured,
“Perhaps your guess is right.”
Mephisto recalled the moment, just a few days ago, when the Pontiff had used overwhelming divine power to perform a miracle right before their departure for Secret Fog.
“When the Pontiff used divine power, I think my mana resonated with it.”
Asterios’ brows furrowed.
“……Is that true?”
“Why would I lie? At the time I brushed it off as my imagination. I thought I was just shivering from the thrill of facing a strong opponent after so long. But, now that you mention it, it could have been resonance with my mana.”
That day, when the Pontiff revealed his miracle before Dreat’s nobles.
Rosiana’s reaction then had been much the same as Mephisto’s. As if colliding with immense mana, her own had surged violently, causing her no small amount of suffering.
While Asterios recalled that fact, Mephisto’s black eyes scanned him thoroughly. His chilling gaze tightened at the lower lids, growing even more menacing.
“Yes, Asterios. Just as you guessed—that’s why it happened. After my lady was exposed to the Pontiff’s divine power, her mana became tangled.”
“How…… do you know that?”
For once, the ever-calm Asterios glared murderously at Mephisto.
“My lady, huh? Mephisto, if you keep calling Rosiana that, stop it immediately.”
Edwin interjected sharply between the two.
“Edwin. To address the Princess by name…….”
Asterios turned a disapproving look at him.
Sparks flew in the tangled stares of the three men.
Two days later.
The second contest was only a day away.
Asterios, Edwin, and Mephisto still maintained their icy, razor-edged tension, waiting to confirm the truth.
As Asterios let out a quiet breath, Izef—seated across from him—spoke with concern.
“Your Excellency, do you have some worry?”
Yesterday, Izef had confided all his unfortunate circumstances to Asterios. But Asterios had not told him his suspicions about the Pontiff.
Not because he distrusted Izef, but because he feared the shock it would bring.
Instead, he suggested they both keep some distance from the Pontiff for the time being, under the pretext of a different excuse. Izef’s mission of spying on the Pontiff seemed inappropriate anyway.
‘Fortunately, my words about what we saw at Secret Fog being suspicious in anyone’s eyes seemed to comfort him.’
Izef had agreed to follow Asterios’ advice.
“Ah. It’s just that I haven’t yet had the necessary conversation with those two childish men.”
Asterios pressed between his brows. Even voicing it felt absurd.
They needed to unite in caution against the Pontiff. Instead, thanks to Edwin and Mephisto turning their backs and keeping their distance, he suffered constant headaches.
Perhaps it was inevitable.
After all, they all desired the same woman.
But was now the time for that?
Thanks to the two men—each proud, arrogant, and brimming with superiority—Asterios’ head throbbed.
‘If Gregory truly seeks war, they should know better than to idle about like this…….’
If not, then perhaps each of them had his own hidden agenda.
In fact, it should have been Mephisto who was the most desperate. He risked losing not only the throne of the Demon King but even his entire world. Yet he was the most relaxed of them all.
And instead of cooperating, Mephisto seemed intent only on watching Asterios warily. Even when Asterios visited him again, the dark sorcerer simply sat, legs crossed, lips sealed, offering not the slightest bit of information that could be to Asterios’ advantage.
And beside him, Nehr looked radiant and cheerful, which only made things more exasperating.
‘And Edwin’s no better.’
He was fixated on what to call Rosiana. Since Mephisto called her “my lady,” Edwin insisted he would call her “my princess.”
“Haa……”
It was one thing after another.
Meanwhile, Daniel had shut himself away in the Pontiff’s quarters, refusing to show himself. When Asterios tried visiting, Daniel’s attendants merely said he was in deep prayer and could not be disturbed.
As for Izef, he was in no position to help. When asked about the Archangels, Izef knew almost nothing—indeed, he was more shocked that Asterios knew of them at all.
‘In the end, I’ll have to speak directly with Daniel somehow…….’
And combine that with whatever information Nox managed to gather before making a decision.
As he pressed his aching head and shared tea with Izef, Mari quietly approached and bowed.
“Your Excellency, how are you today?”
“I’m fine. Tell Her Highness not to worry too much—I hear even Izef’s headache is better today.”
Mari, who came every morning to check his well-being, nodded at his reply.
Knowing full well the Princess’ intent in sending her, the tension in his brow unknowingly softened.
Thanks to Rosiana, his strength and resolve returned.
He was truly glad he had finally revealed his heart, after putting it off for so long. Once spoken, once shared, it felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest.
“And Her Highness asked that you stop by briefly before the evening banquet today.”
“Ah, so it’s that day. Understood, Mari.”
“Then I shall take my leave.”
Bowing, Mari turned and walked away.
Every three days without fail.
Even Izef knew by now that the Princess was regularly drawing upon Asterios’ strength.
“Won’t it be difficult for you? Tomorrow is the second contest.”
Recalling Asterios’ haggard appearance after the first contest, Izef looked worried. At his gentle concern, Asterios smiled faintly.
“It’s fine. More importantly—did you hear the sound again last night?”
“No, Your Excellency. Strangely, ever since I told you about it, I haven’t heard it again.”
“……Is that so?”
Asterios lowered his gaze to his teacup and held it quietly.
At that moment, a voice rang in his head alone.
[You mustn’t trust him too much.]
It was Nox’s voice.
Maintaining a calm expression, Asterios raised his eyes again.
His gaze lingered on Izef’s fingertips, trembling faintly in the cold.
‘I know, Nox.’
He knew Izef was lying.
He knew that the voice still tormented him every single day during prayer.
Had Izef realized he was being constantly watched by someone? Or had he already become someone’s pawn?
‘He’s lying for one of two reasons.’
Asterios lifted his head slightly, his golden eyes quietly searching Izef’s deep brown ones—as if to peer into the truth behind the lie.
If the one trying to control Izef was the Pontiff who had attacked him, then Izef could no longer be considered safe. He would already be the Pontiff’s pawn.
Even so, even if Pontiff Gregory was using Izef for his own schemes, Asterios could not help but want to protect the poor former priest.
Because Izef was Rosiana’s man.
‘If the Pontiff is trying to gauge our side’s situation through Izef, then he already knows Izef confessed everything to me.’
Would he be surprised? Or enraged?
What had the Pontiff thought, hearing that Izef had confessed the truth about Secret Fog and even the voices in his head to Asterios?
What would he do with Izef now?
‘Could it be…… what the Pontiff seeks through Izef is…… prayer itself?’
He couldn’t yet be certain. But at least helping this pitiful ex-priest meant hindering the Pontiff’s plans. That much was a comfort.
That was why Asterios continued acting as if he were completely deceived by Izef’s lie.
And even then, something—or someone—was steadily drawing closer to them all.
