Chapter 26

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: Chapter 123

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"What exactly are you dissatisfied with?"

The man cloaked entirely in a robe muttered as he cast his gaze toward the silent forest, where not even the sound of crickets pierced the quiet.

He then turned to Dillon, who had been scowling nonstop, and tilted his head.

Dillon's dark brown hair, shrouded in the long shadows of the trees, appeared nearly black.

Seeing the handsome man's face refuse to soften, the robed man clicked his tongue.

"I've granted you everything you wanted."

"Shut that mouth of yours if you don't want to be noisy, Hayden."

Dillon's mind was a complete mess.

His nerves were stretched to the breaking point; he couldn't tolerate even the slightest noise.

"No way. I did exactly as you asked—had the Demon Worshippers storm the Northern Castle. So what could possibly be the problem..."

"Do I need to rip out that tongue for you to finally shut up?"

Hayden clamped his mouth shut at last.

What a temper.

He recalled the man's brother, whom he'd seen while infiltrating the Evantes household as a servant.

A strikingly handsome man with black hair and eyes red like pomegranate seeds.

His looks were captivating enough to turn heads from afar.

But what had truly caught Hayden's eye were those red eyes, identical to Dillon's.

Brothers through and through—their foul tempers match perfectly.

Hayden clicked his tongue briefly.

Dillon held a special status among the Demon Worshippers. That was one reason for the treatment he received.

He didn't know the full details, but from what he'd heard, Dillon had made some sort of 'promise'.

Thanks to that promise, he enjoyed such privileges.

Which was why he'd followed the absurd order to attack the Northern Castle without question.

"Where the hell are you..."

Oblivious to Hayden's thoughts, Dillon was on edge, his anxiety reaching a fever pitch.

When he heard Rozhi had vanished, it hit him hard.

But once rumors spread that the Demon Worshippers were behind it, his thinking shifted.

This could all be Rozhi's scheme.

A way to clear her name from the ridiculous accusation of attempting to assassinate the Holy Knight Captain.

A Transcendent like the Holy Knight Captain made a perfect target for a Demon Worshipper raid.

It was a hunch without evidence, but Dillon had spent years by Rozhi's side. He knew her well.

Convinced, he moved to help her.

He orchestrated the Demon Worshippers' assault on the Northern Castle, turning suspicion into accepted fact.

His plan had worked.

So why haven't you shown up, Rozhi?

He'd been scouring the north for days, yet not a single strand of her hair turned up.

"Damn it."

Dillon spat another curse.

He'd wasted so much time searching for Rozhi.

But what he ultimately discovered was...

"We've found her!"

Finally, Rozhi was located.

As Dillon emerged from the forest, he spotted knights from the Northern Castle who had already exited ahead.

Rozhi lay cradled in the arms of the Holy Knight Captain at the front. Her eyes closed, unmoving—it clawed at Dillon's unease.

Her arm dangled limply from the man's hold, like a corpse's.

The Holy Knight Captain, unlike his usual self, wore no smile.

With a shadowed face—no, dead eyes—he stood before the castle gates, holding Rozhi.

The knights around him hung their heads, avoiding each other's gazes.

But their expressions meant nothing to Dillon.

Relief at finding her warred with worry over her pallid complexion, shaking his mind.

Yet the news that followed shattered his reason entirely.

"Seyblin Aide has been killed."

Snap.

The thin thread of sanity he'd clung to since Rozhi vanished broke completely.

The blizzard had finally stopped.

Yet the black clouds blanketing the castle refused to dissipate.

As if the gloom extended beyond them—the castle itself was steeped in a heavy, somber mood.

"This incident... it must never leak outside."

The Count earnestly warned his knights.

He'd cooperated to clear Rozhi of the false charge of assassinating the Holy Knight Captain, but things had gone awry.

In this mess, being suspected of killing her would be the first assumption.

So the Count tried to cover it up.

He grimaced, rubbing his temples.

"How did everything end up like this..."

The prevailing theory now was that Demon Worshippers had killed Rozhi.

But 'prevailing' implied other opinions existed.

Where was Yurta Herthas right now?

Questions had arisen since he vanished around the time Rozhi did.

"My lord Count, the coffin has arrived."

"Ah, good."

The coffin for Rozhi's body had reached the Northern Castle.

The Count headed to inspect it at once.

When he arrived at the room where Rozhi's body had been placed in the coffin, someone was already there.

The Count couldn't step inside right away.

He saw the back of a man in pristine white robes.

As he debated whether to announce himself, the Count witnessed something bizarre.

Thinking he'd misseen, he widened his eyes, then subtly twitched his brow and quietly entered.

"Close the door."

At the curt command, the knights shut it immediately.

Rihart must have heard, yet he didn't turn.

The Count, too, hoped he wouldn't sense him and look back.

He stood still, taking in Rihart gently caressing the corpse's hand in silence.

The man, usually radiating kindness and sanctity, now resembled a fallen holy knight who'd sold his soul to a demon.

His lake-blue eyes evoked the deep abyss of the river to the underworld.

But most chilling was his dazed gaze and the tender way he stroked the back of the corpse's hand.

Rozhi lay in the coffin, placed there by Rihart, with only her hand extended outside.

A corpse...

No matter how beautiful or alluring she once was, she was a corpse now.

Wasn't it creepy to touch it like that?

The Count glanced back at the door. Relief washed over him that it was sealed.

No good would come from others seeing the empire's hero in such a macabre act.

Why is he touching it so affectionately?

Come to think of it...

The Count recalled one fact.

When Rihart had been attacked, strands of pink hair were found on him.

The Count had always wondered about it, but neither Rozhi nor Rihart ever spoke up.

Perhaps they'd met in secret.

That would explain their silence.

Seeing those wistful blue eyes on her, it seemed Rihart had secretly loved her.

To love the woman betrothed to Marquis Evantes...

"Count."

Rihart, who'd been lost in his eerie actions, suddenly spoke calmly, as if struck by some whim.

"Is there any chance a dead person could come back to life?"

"...What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure myself."

Rihart flashed an enigmatic smile.

The Count hesitated, unsure if he should smile back. His stiff lips wouldn't budge.

He shifted his gaze to the room's end while pondering.

The wide window stood open, curtains fluttering.

"The dead don't come back to life, do they?"

"...Rozhi's death is tragic, but the dead don't revive."

Was that answer enough? Rihart said no more.

Unable to bear the suffocating weight of pitch-black darkness pressing on him like a boulder, the Count fled the room.

"My lord, are you alright?"

His attendant asked cautiously, seeing the Count's grim expression upon exiting.

The Count recalled what he'd witnessed inside.

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it.

The chilling sensation defied words.

No one would understand.

He'd only seem tasteless, trying to tarnish that holy man's reputation.

He carved out the unease he'd carried from that room.

Dismissing it as his imagination.

But then.

"My lord, disaster! The Holy Knight Captain fell from the window!"

In that instant, the world went dark before the Count's eyes.

The situation was utterly hopeless.

"Gasp!"

I opened my eyes.

In Korea.

With shackles locked around my ankle.