“Huh? Why does the devil always win their wagers?”
Priest Nogu, who was in charge of theological education for prospective heresy inquisitors, raised his head and looked at Krail after hearing his question.
“Among humans, there are many with intelligence far superior to that of devils. If such people exist, they could win a wager with the devil. So why don’t they try to control the devil through those people?”
“That’s a pretty bold statement, and it’s also blasphemous,” the priest replied, his head slightly lowered as he looked at Krail. Eventually, with a chuckle, he answered, “The answer is surprisingly simple. If you think about it from the opposite perspective, it can be done. Is that your answer?”
Krail nodded as if he understood, thanked the priest, and left the training center.
The air he breathed was cold. Was winter already approaching? In the distance, Julius and Cecil were visible against the backdrop of trees with bare branches.
It was a sight Krail didn’t particularly want to see—Cecil running happily, while Julius chased after her with a frown on his face. Turning his head toward the direction they were running, Krail noticed the sky, heavy with dark clouds. It looked like the first snow was going to fall.
Fastening his collar, Krail ran toward Julius. It was clear that if they stayed together until nightfall, an accident would surely occur.
***
That evening, as the night deepened, Kente Village, which had been full of commotion during the day, was quiet, as though the earlier events had been nothing but a ghostly memory.
A small light flickered from a gap in the door of the church standing on a hill, overlooking the village. Inside the chapel, Thalia, a heretic inquisitor from Kente, who had only recently begun developing a woman’s figure, stared blankly at the candles illuminating the statue.
Emily, watching quietly from behind, couldn’t help but speak. “Ha… Thalia, stop now and go home. How long are you going to stay here like this?”
Thalia didn’t respond. Seeing her friend so utterly lost, Emily brushed her hair aside and sat next to her, gently wrapping her arms around Thalia’s shoulders.
“If you work at the Central Church, you won’t be able to contact your relatives, and your marriage will have to be a secret. I know you’ve liked Julius since you were young, but you can’t undo the fact that you already lost him. Take care of yourself, get some rest. Is Julius the only man in the world?”
Despite Emily’s words, Thalia’s mood didn’t lighten in the slightest. A dark feeling stirred in her chest. Surely, if the Lord saw her now, He would turn away from her ugly heart.
“…If I had gone to the Central Church with my brothers… would I have had a chance?”
Emily couldn’t find the words to respond to Thalia’s trembling voice.
The night continued to deepen.
***
Thalia, who had spent the entire night awake at the church, began her work with weary, bloodshot eyes. There had been three reports of suspected heresy—just suspicions.
In rural areas like this, such reports usually involved illegal book distribution or eccentric people wandering around half-dressed.
Glancing at the well-forged sword hanging on the wall beside her desk, she nodded to herself before shaking her head in shock. What blasphemous thoughts she had! She couldn’t believe she was reminded of the play she had seen with Julius and Krail.
In that play, two gentlemen had dueled over a fiancée.
Krail had pitied Julius for watching the show with such shining eyes back then, and now, Thalia seemed to understand why.
***
“You can’t walk around like this, teacher,” Thalia scolded a notorious local mad-woman who frequented the mill. She had been arguing with Ms. Ronelle for nearly two hours before finally succeeding in sending her home.
Ronelle had once been a genius swordswoman who declared, “I will marry whoever defeats me.” But unable to marry, she had lost her mind. Now she wandered around town in nothing but short pants.
As she watched Ronell leave, Thalia thought of her brother Julius. Was he really Ronelle’s last hope, as she claimed? Thalia shook her head with a faint smile, knowing it was better if the two never met.
She arrived at Manto’s Bookstore, the only bookstore in town, where two reports of illegal book distribution had been filed.
“Huh? Who is this? Isn’t it Thalia, our little girl who fainted yesterday? Ha ha ha,” Uncle Manto laughed.
That was the last thing Uncle Manto said before Thalia, overcome with anger, turned the bookstore upside down in search of illegal books. She found two suspicious titles.
[The Secret Daily Life of a Bar Girl.]
Without hesitation, she burned the first book with sacred fire. However, the second book’s title shook her even more.
[A Dizzying Relationship with a Married Man, Volume 1.]
Thalia quickly glanced around to make sure no one was watching before tucking the book into her arms. Back at the interrogation center, she locked the door and closed the windows before opening the book cautiously.
[A note fell from between the pages: “It’s still too early for you, kid. —Manto has watched you since you were a child.]
She felt a surge of murderous intent toward Manto but soon calmed down, realizing that the note had brought her to her senses. She had been imagining impure thoughts, even though she had blessed Julius’s marriage. Thalia burned the book to ashes and left the interrogation center.
That night, she decided to raise a toast to celebrate her brother Julius’s return and marriage. As she walked down the hill, feeling lighter, a brilliant golden light appeared in her eyes.
Julius was gazing at the sky, his eyes filled with melancholy. There was no one beside him.
Her heart, which she had tried so hard to keep steady, wavered. She had loved him first. If she had followed him, the place beside him would have been hers.
Maybe… maybe she still deserved a second chance.
Thalia’s sparkling eyes became cloudy before regaining their shine. With her heart feeling unexpectedly lighter, she noticed a woman in a pure white dress approaching Julius as if dancing. Thalia looked down at her all-black attire, smiled, and ran down the hill, her black hair streaming behind her.
Thalia Ziffnel—her name bore the meaning of the angel of loving kindness. The smile on her face appeared benevolent, but inside, she was stained black.
As she ran, a faint howling sound echoed in the wind.
Perhaps it was Uncle Manto, crying out for the girl’s lost innocence.
***
Darkana, the capital of Lyriam, lay shrouded in dark clouds. Unlike the other parts of the capital where gloom prevailed, the heart of the Telmere Church radiated its usual majestic glow. The Central Church was busy, with its people moving nervously about.
Priest Lian swallowed dryly and knocked twice on the rather simple door.
“Come in,” came the response.
When he entered the room, he saw an old sofa, a table, a hanger for clothes on the wall, and a bookcase filled with Scriptures.
If Priestess Emily from Kente had seen it, she would have tilted her head in confusion, remarking on how much it resembled Brukin’s room.