But even when the knights heard her claim, they only nodded half-heartedly. No one would believe that such a young girl would be the mother of that walking disaster.
“Hmph, you are now under emergency arrest as the culprit who killed the priests of the Telmere Church. You should understand your place.”
Not only was she ignored, but she was also being treated as a murderer.
Last night, after a commotion in the Aran market where all the drinks had mysteriously turned into holy water, Priestess Emily had tried to kindly explain the murder case to the dispatched security guard. However, a low-level devil mimicking an alley vagabond—known as the “Vagrant’s Destruction”—had caused havoc by altering the holy water. Due to this, she was now enduring the humiliation of being arrested as the prime suspect.
“… I guess I’m no longer just obsolete, but just a piece of junk.”
Priestess Emily’s purple eyes, which usually sparkled sharply, had lost their luster. With lifeless, flickering eyes, she rested her head on the floor and muttered darkly.
Although the knights seemed at ease around her, they remained vigilant, never letting down their guard. Judging by the appearance of the room, which resembled a living space, it seemed they were waiting for someone.
“Count Aran has arrived.”
A neat voice announced the arrival of their lord.
Someone entered with a slow but elegant gait.
Priestess Emily thought the voice sounded familiar.
The man who stepped in was Count Rotani Aran. His face appeared younger than expected as he carefully studied the priestess, stroking his neatly shaven chin.
“… What is happening here?”
“Yes! Last night, a priestess of the Telmere Church was arrested in an alley and is believed to be the main culprit behind the emergency that claimed the lives of 32 people. Since she claims to be Emily Ridina, a special priestess of the church, we are considering the possibility that she may be mentally unwell.”
‘What is this knight even talking about?’
Count Rotani, seeing the young woman on the floor, felt his bones tighten. Slowly, he got down on one knee.
“Lord? Why are you suddenly kneeling?”
The knights, whose voices betrayed their bafflement, exchanged blank stares as Rotani bowed his head before the living legend of Lyriam.
“Priestess Emily, I deeply apologize for this unpleasant situation. You may not remember me, but my name is Rotani Aran. I was baptized by you long ago.”
“I remember. Time flies so fast; Rintau Aran’s son has grown so much,” Priestess Emily replied with a benevolent smile, despite being tied up like a caterpillar.
The Count bowed deeply, his expression filled with respect. Meanwhile, the knights stood dumbfounded by the sight before them, unable to believe it even if it were a theatrical play.
“… Master, is this really Emily Lidina?”
“Yes, this is Emily Lidina, our Father in Heaven’s treasure. She is the immortal Priestess Emily, the pride of Lyriam, known as the adoptive daughter of the God Rom.”
Rotani, sweating nervously, nodded and calmly addressed the knights.
“Um… so, have we made a grave mistake here?”
The Count stared intently at the knights’ faces, his loyal companions since childhood. Today, however, seemed to mark the end of their serene lives.
“Thank you for your service. There may not be an afterlife, but if we do get to meet, let’s at least share a drink.”
Loosening his neatly tied cravat, the Count sat on the small table in the drawing room. His butler, a man with an attractive mustache, quietly murmured something, but Rotani ignored him, appearing to await the inevitable.
“Yes! Today is your day of reckoning! Let’s see if you can stand before Rom and utter such nonsense!”
The flowing silver hair of Priestess Emily, gleaming as if crafted from melted silver, swayed wildly—a masterpiece of divine craftsmanship.
Struggling against her restraints, Emily retrieved a fragment of Francis’ horn from the back pocket of her priestly robes. Grasping it firmly, she summoned her divine power into the small relic and shouted boldly, “Francis!”
“Uh, uh!”
“….”
Surprisingly, nothing happened.
It was an awkward moment that left everyone blushing—from the resigned Count to the flustered knights, and even Priestess Emily herself, who had dramatically summoned the divine beast.
Only the butler, who earlier had urged his master to keep calm, remained composed, diligently fulfilling his duties in the tense atmosphere.
“… First, let us release the priestess from her bonds,” the butler suggested.
“Oh, yes. Right away,” a knight responded hastily.
The priestess, now lay motionless, her eyes closed as she pretended to be dead.
Seeing this, a knight with a look of pity knelt down and carefully began untying the woman’s chains.
“… Isn’t it a little hot?”
“Now that you mention it… But why did you suddenly go there?”
Count Rotani was already hiding behind a large flower pot placed in the corner of the living room.
The butler, stroking his handsome mustache, sighed softly. He did so in secret, mindful of his master’s lack of discipline.
“You all, stop fussing and just lie down. That person is coming soon.”
“I’m not sure what you mean, my lord,” one of the knights replied, confusion written across his face.
Count Rotani, scratching his head and gazing at the perplexed knights from a distance, briefly let his black eyes gleam with a cloudy aura.
“Who is it? He’s the son of Priestess Emily the Immortal and the greatest heretic inquisitor in Lyriam.”
Rotani Aran, who wore a dignified smile befitting a true noble, quickly lowered his head and ducked behind the flower pot.
The mysterious ‘it’ began to burn, starting from the floor where those present stood, still too stunned to react.
“Well… Something is happening!”
“Flames! It’s the heretic inquisitor! Everyone, take your positions and protect the Count!”
The knights abandoned Priestess Emily and rushed to shield Rotani, who cowered behind the flower pot. However, they couldn’t move even a single step from their spots.
“I suggest everyone stay where they are,” a commanding voice declared.
“Don’t be alarmed. I’ve only come to deliver the Lord’s message.”
Boom!
A resounding, heavy noise echoed as a golden flame, radiant like heaven’s brilliance, melted the outer wall of Lord’s Castle. Through the massive hole, the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder.
Thut!
Thut!
The knights, drenched in cold sweat, felt their throats tighten as they heard the footsteps. Flames wrapped around their bodies like serpents. With immense effort, they turned their heads to look at the figure responsible—the fearsome heretic inquisitor.
Outside the castle, where the wall now gaped open, a blond-haired man clad in the distinctive uniform of the heretic inquisitors stood. His expression was unreadable, yet intimidating.
The sight was utterly terrifying.
Fortunately, the knights were held in place by Julius. Barely clinging to consciousness, they took in what he was holding.
Julius Tapnel, the infamous heretic inquisitor who had burned down the underworld in his wrath and ripped out the t0ngues and eyes of lords who allied with devils, now carried a woman in his arms.
All the people of Lord’s Castle could do was gape at the sight, as though they were watching a knight from a fairy tale cradling a princess.
“This is your punishment for behaving this way today. Understood?” Julius said sternly.
“… I did nothing wrong! And how dare a devil use the Lord’s servant—”
“Silence! Don’t spout nonsense!”
The brave and fearless woman in his arms, with golden flames swirling around her, tugged at Julius’s ear. Her angelic brown hair swayed as she stamped her feet and tilted her head arrogantly.
“This is Julius Tapnel! And I am the wife of Lyriam’s strongest heretic inquisitor!”
Cecil Lionelta, the hidden wife of Julius Tapnel whose supposed death had been a tightly guarded secret, now stood before the world, alive.
“I, Cecil Lionelta, am Julius’s only wife! Make sure everyone remembers that clearly!” she declared loudly.
As Julius gazed at the innocent woman speaking so fervently, he wet his lips with his tongue.
Yes, this truly was Cecil Lionelta, the woman he loved dearly.
Her actions were fearless, far from any imitation of a devil.
Meanwhile, Liliana Aran, who had rushed into the parlor where the divine beast lay wailing and clutching its broken horn, caught sight of Julius. Her eyes met his, and she promptly fainted.
Count Rotani and the butler fled in terror after witnessing the countess collapse.
If Krail Raynell were present, he might have summed up the situation in one word: “Ha, that’s ridiculous.”
Aran, the city of water—a peaceful and serene paradise—was now beset by a great ordeal.
A pyromaniac inquisitor who delighted in burning things with fire and a love-stricken devil in his arms now held the fate of Aran in their hands.
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Check out my other projects: Rehabilitating the Villainess, Pushover Extra Trains the Villainesses, I Picked Up an Amnesiac Witch, Transmigrated as the Butler of a Defeated Heroine, My Summons Are Special