“Unfortunately, my love, Liliana, passed away two years ago during the plague.”
“There was a time like that.”
“I tried so hard to let her go for two years. However, at some point, I understood. There are some things that time cannot heal.”
“….”
“Telmere said that the bodies of the dead should be burned. But I couldn’t bear to burn her body.”
Rotani, with his eyes red, paused for a moment, suppressing the tears that threatened to burst out.
Julius, observing her, thought absently.
‘He’s just like me.’
“I knew it was wrong. But I couldn’t bear to let her go. So when the saint’s offer came, I gladly accepted it.”
“… The end of a pact with the devil is ultimately destruction.”
Julius unconsciously muttered the words he often repeated like a prayer to God, but Rotani could only shake her head when she saw him like that.
“I didn’t care if destruction came. I just wanted to see her again.”
The living Liliana.
‘Because honey wants a living Cecil, and I am that Cecil.’
The devil whispered to him on the way…no, Cecil’s voice and the voice of the nobleman in front of him echoed over and over again.
Julius took a deep breath and gestured for him to continue speaking, and the Count of Aran spat out his final words.
“I knew from the beginning that I had lost the bet. But it didn’t matter. Now that I was able to see her lively again, there were no more regrets left in my life.”
“So you admitted defeat in one day?”
“If I dragged it on any longer, I was just afraid of waking up from the dream in the future.”
“For all that, you seem very happy right now.”
Julius, having finished the tea in front of him, pointed at the countess with his chin. Even though she was scared, the devil clung to her husband’s arm and held her head high.
‘You really are like me.’
He gently placed the teacup on the table, slowly rose, and adjusted his clothes. A black uniform that seemed to contain the screams of the damned.
The slayer, who burned and destroyed countless devils and heretics, nodded a few times before saying farewell to the count and his wife.
“I heard you are expecting a baby. I hope the child is born healthy. Thank you for sharing such an interesting story.”
Julius extended his hand toward Rotani.
The Count, staring at his hand, hesitated for a moment before tightly grasping it, as though making a decision.
“Thank you for your understanding. Thank you for sparing me and my wife.”
“Well, I an in a similar situation, so I just turned a blind eye to it.”
The two men clasped hands and looked into each other’s eyes—eyes filled with the power of a devil and eyes filled with the power of an angel.
Two men so different, yet so alike.
Perhaps it was their shared pain that drew them closer. Rotani continued to hold Julius’s hand, seemingly unaware he hadn’t let go.
“… I hope you let go now.”
“I am truly sorry for saying this.”
The red-haired nobleman shed a drop of cold sweat, still holding the inquisitor’s hand, and lowered his head.
“You need to reimburse me for the cost of damages to Lord’s Castle….”
Count Rotani, who succeeded his father, Rintau Aran, as ruler of the water city of Aran, was a devoted husband but also a capable lord.
The lord, having narrowly escaped death, quietly raised the topic of money.
Julius, nodding thoughtfully, responded concisely, as if delivering a clear verdict.
“Do you want to die?”
Julius Tapnel, was a man who had single-handedly slain the most heretics and devils in history, and it seemed this was the limit to his mercy.
It was late afternoon, and one could only feel pity for Count Aran, who had been struck by such metaphorical lightning.
****
“So, why are you doing this?”
“That’s harmful! I didn’t think about it before, but you shouldn’t see something like that!”
Surprisingly, the interior of Lord’s Castle had been repaired to an excellent condition.
Julius, who was calmly cutting a steak served before him on a long table, suddenly spoke to Cecil, who clung to him and tried to cover his eyes.
For context, the damaged Lord’s Castle had been fully restored by the hands of the immortal Priestess Emily. The priestess, who had waved the divine beast’s magical horn and performed a blessing ceremony by roughly wielding it to pray for a miracle, was now drinking wine directly from the bottle and blowing into it like a horn.
Listening to the comical sound of the improvised “instrument,” Julius gently tapped Cecil’s hand that was covering his eyes and spoke softly.
“I’m going to move your hand. It’s not polite at a dinner table.”
“Being polite isn’t the issue. I’m trying to prevent a family breakdown.”
Cecil, the brown-haired woman trembled as if she had seen something terrifying, and remained glued to him.
Julius, curious about her strange behavior, asked with a small smile, “Preventing something? What exactly are you protecting me from?”
“I’m protecting you from that monster!”
Cecil pointed at Liliana.
Julius cautiously opened one eye to look at the supposed “monster” but remained baffled.
“What do you mean by ‘monster’?” Julius asked.
“That! That one right there!” Cecil exclaimed, apparently forgetting her resolve to keep her husband’s eyes covered. She now used both hands to point at Liliana’s mounds, shouting in frustration.
Realizing what had made Cecil so uncomfortable, Liliana shyly crossed her arms over her ample mounds.
“Well, what are we going to do about it?” she said, as if intentionally provocative.
The sight sent a visible wave of anger through Cecil, who shook with frustration.
Julius, however, laughed and shook his head, “There’s only one woman who catches my eye: Cecil Lionelta. She alone is more than enough for me, and I couldn’t possibly be distracted by anyone else.”
Cecil, who had been flailing her arms moments before, froze in place. Her ears, peeking through her shiny hair, turned bright red. Usually bold and talkative, she now found herself mute as her normally reserved husband casually said something so sincere and heartfelt.
Rotani, who had been observing the playful exchange between Julius and his wife, seemed impressed. He put down the knife in his hand and applauded softly.
Julius wasn’t just the strongest in the kingdom when it came to subduing devils; he was also unmatched in matters of the heart.
***
“There! Hey, you over there! Butler, come here!”
Completely drunk, the silver-haired Priestess Emily brandished a bottle of wine, her flushed face betraying her inebriation. She called out to the butler, who stood calmly in the corner of the room.
Paton, the butler of Lord Aran’s castle, known for his attractive mustache, gave a polite bow in response to the legendary priestess’s summons and approached her.
“Is there something that displeases you?” he asked courteously.
“Come over here! Listen to me—ah, well! You see I foolishly missed something that it was right in front of me!”
Seeing Priestess Emily, who reeked of alcohol and wavered drunkenly, Paton smiled awkwardly, nodding along to her rambling.
After several minutes of muttering, Emily finally ended her long drunken speech with one sentence. Her last words made Paton’s smile vanish, his face going pale.
The meaning of the words that reached his ears were simple: “Me? I tampered with the blood of those heretics.”
Emily’s voice was calm yet chilling, “I’ve said this before, didn’t I? I have the power to transform ‘liquid’ substances into holy water.”
Paton was stunned. His blood seemed to respond, rising in agitation at the demonic energy lurking within his heart.
“Did you really think I missed it? Impossible. I’ve been doing this for years.”
Emily Ridina.
Her name struck fear into the hearts of heretics and devils alike, even before Julius.
Rom’s adoptive daughter and Julius’s former teacher twisted her lips into a chilling smile as she directed her gaze at Paton.
As the evening deepened, the faint shadow of evil began to stir.
In the eyes of the great priestess, the man who had been hiding behind his mask finally came into view.
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