Chapter 67: Leo shining (1)

The final day of the Contract Festival.

The faithful people of Elrand had begun gathering around the cathedral long before the sky even showed hints of dawn. Normally, the cathedral was inaccessible without having undergone severe purification rites, but on this day, the outer precincts were open for free access.

Many of the people, having been reveling in the night’s festivities, were in high spirits from the drinks. For the past three days, they had taken a break from their work to indulge in festivities, and on the morning of the final day, they planned to watch the blessing of the dawn granted by the spirits of light from the cathedral to conclude the festival.

Alir Ad peered down from the cathedral’s projecting window at the crowd of cheerful people waiting leisurely for sunrise, singing as they approached the cathedral, and he allowed himself a gentle smile. 

Innocent, jovial, and kind-hearted, they had no doubt that the morning light brought by the spirits would be a blessing. 

And that was how it should be.

The more joy they experienced now, the harsher the coming calamities would be, and their despair would deepen. And the amplified negative emotions would, without fail, nourish the dark spirits and strengthen him.

The thought of that sweet outcome made Alir Ad’s cheeks relax into a smile.

In the balcony facing east and the adjoining purification chamber, priestesses and mentors from various nations were already gathering. Some rubbed the sleep from their eyes, while others were elated by the impending freedom from their duties, all waiting eagerly for sunrise.

All that was left was for Safita, to raise the spirit orb and begin the ceremony of celebration with a prayer.

(So, the great calamity begins.)

Alir Ad suppressed his smile and instead wore a look of apparent concern as he knocked on the door to the treasure room where Safita was waiting. The room, connected to the same balcony as the purification chamber, was usually flooded with sunlight, but as it was still night and without even a candle lit, the room was shrouded in a heavy darkness.

In the dim and solemn space, where the spirit orb was mounted on a large pedestal, his master sat, staring blankly at his palm.

“Master Safita. I have something to inform you—oh, why is it still so dark here? Your heart will be overshadowed,” Alir Ad said, speaking a little fast, but his tone was typical of a concerned caretaker as he transferred the flame from a nearby candle stand to brighten the room.

Then, in a grave manner, he addressed the person gazing intently at the candlelight.

“The priestesses have gathered in the antechamber in preparation for the ceremony of celebration, but… I can’t seem to find the priestess from Weitz.”

“……”

Safita quietly lifted his gaze, and Alir Ad nodded thoughtfully.

“At first, I thought she might have overslept, but when I asked the maids, they said she hasn’t returned to her room for several hours. Perhaps she got lost while trying to explore the cathedral. The building’s structure can be quite complicated, after all.”

Alir Ad allowed himself a hidden smile at the mention of the complicated structure. Yes, the grand cathedral was as elegant and corrupt as Elrand’s history, built with contradictions.

It was perched on high ground, looking down on the people while condemning arrogance. It preached charity, yet had rooms to confine prisoners.

And at the heart of it all, there was a room for summoning dark spirits directly beneath the room housing the spirit orb, which served as the medium for the spirits of light.

(Of course, I was the one who added the final modifications.)

The underground prison, connected to the room and hidden passageways, had once been used by royalty to secretly torture prisoners. It was Alir Ad who repurposed it as an altar.

At that very moment, the Weitz priestess was likely suffering a cruel fate, defiled by wretched men and losing her life.

The suffering and lamentations of the pure would undoubtedly bring forth a darkness unlike any other, summoning the dark spirits.

While it was unfortunate not to witness the moment directly, when it comes to dark spirits, they might consume the offering and the sorcerer without discrimination immediately upon being summoned.

Alir Ad had marked himself as the ritual master by painting his own blood on the gold coins used as offerings. This way, the dark spirits would know to leave once satisfied and form a contract with him.

(Not to mention, I should not be at the ritual site now.)

If it were to come to light that the Weitz priestess had been brutally murdered, Alir Ad needed to maintain his innocence.

For that, he needed to be seen by many during the summoning of the dark spirits, guiding suspicion towards the magical corruption of the spirit orb. This would instill distrust and animosity towards Weitz in Safita, while directing Weitz’s hatred towards Safita for the priestess’s death.

He needed to feign ignorance, stoke the conflict between the two, and spread war and calamity.

Now was not the time for his crimes to be known.

Alir Ad turned to Safita, who was gazing intently at his clenched fists, and spoke with apparent concern.

“If the priestess is absent from the ceremony, her recent disrespect to the spirits only intensifies the case against Weitz. But the spirits of light seem to favor her, so provoking a war might not sit well with my conscience. Despite her ambition, we should at least make some attempt to search for her.”

If Alir Ad said this, it would push Safita to forbid any search, as predicted.

And so, the narrative would form: “The old servant tried to advise against the rash prince, who ignored the counsel and allowed war to begin.”

But this time, Safita pushed back the offered candle stand and addressed Alir Ad calmly.

“Alir Ad.”

Something was off.

Then, from outside the door, there was a knock and the hurried voice of a servant calling for Safita.

The ceremony’s timing was likely approaching.

Alir Ad tried to respond on behalf of Safita, but the latter stopped him.

“You always speak words of indulgence towards me, don’t you?”

The unusually detached tone struck Alir Ad as suspicious, and he turned.

The young man, known for his sharp beauty and emotional demeanor, was now staring down at Alir Ad from an unexpectedly close distance with a cold expression.

“…Master Safita?”

“I am flawed, prone to prioritizing emotions over reason. That is why I followed your advice and worked hard to remain calm, not indulging myself, nor allowing emotions to sway me. I strived to keep myself in check.”

Safita had been harshly criticized for letting his young cousin escape, an act seen as a foolish deviation from reason due to emotion. His weak spirit power also played a role in him being considered unfit for leadership.

Alir Ad guided him, elevating him to his current position.

Therefore, Safita had always imposed a different behavior upon himself to meet AlirAd’s expectations.

“Every time you claimed my shortcomings were your fault, I resolved not to rely on indulgence. I accepted all the blame. When you took a cautious stance on the spirit orb’s corruption, suggesting it might not be Weitz’s fault, I was more determined to confront and humble Weitz.”

As Safita looked at the corrupted spirit orb, he squinted his eyes.

In his mind, he recalled the young girl who had urged him to consider the larger picture.

“Whenever you urged me to stop, that the girl was suffering, I felt compelled to torment her even more. Somewhere deep down, I knew it was wrong.”

The kindness of his vassal had only pushed Safita to be harsher, thinking he needed to approach everything with a firm stance.

Outside the door, the servant’s voice echoed again.

The knocking sound grew louder.

But Safita ignored it and took a step closer to Alir Ad.

“I was the one who declared her an ambitious girl aiming for the throne. But who was it that shaped her image as a cunning swindler? That girl, born in the lower town and barely taken under the marquis’s protection… who painted her as someone more conniving than anyone else?”

“…Do you suspect me? Me?”

“Alir Ad.”

The low voice cut off Alir Ad’s words, and Safita reached for the offered candle stand, grabbing the flame with his bare hand.

A thin trail of smoke rose from his clenched fist.

Yet he showed no sign of feeling the heat or pain, glaring intently at Alir Ad.

In the depths of his blue-gray eyes was the image of the poor, noble girl the maids had described.

Safita clenched his fist tightly, still holding onto the flame, and spoke.

“You always spoke words of indulgence, kindling the flames for me, just as you have now.”

The girl had been confined in rooms far colder and harsher than any Elrand person could imagine, given little warmth, fire, or proper meals.

She must have grown up amid trash for warmth, concealing injuries with insect venom. Surely, she endured a childhood so harsh it would have driven any ordinary person to madness.

Yet the girl bore no resentment towards others, instead sharing light with those around her, cherishing each day.

Hearing this, Safita felt an intense pang of guilt that made him want to tear his own chest open.

He had been despicable.

He should never have sought to use such a helpless, vulnerable girl.

And yet, her words had saved him.

He couldn’t allow any further harm to her heart.

He resolved with a pale face to never again cause her pain.

He wondered why he hadn’t realized such a simple truth sooner.

“Your candle always emitted a sweet fragrance, calming the mind and stopping further thought.”

Finally, the pieces clicked into place.

“Safita…!”

The low whisper uttered by Alir Ad shook Safita.

“The ceremony is about to begin, and I cannot wait for the sweet moments you promised me.”

Safita gazed into Alir Ad’s eyes, emotion draining from his face.

“Do not worry.”

As if observing someone else entirely, Safita spoke coldly to Alir Ad.

“I won’t allow a situation where you can quietly leave.”

“Master Safita?”

“You…”

Safita slowly approached Alir Ad and grasped his hand tightly.

“And you won’t succeed in disrupting the Contract Festival.”

The sun would soon rise.

The servants outside were getting louder.

It was about time for the ceremony.

Safita’s grip on Alir Ad’s hand was unbreakable, both hands trembling.

“Do not worry, Alir Ad. It will be over soon.”

The candle extinguished.

A cold, unfathomable smile spread across Alir Ad’s face.

“Until then, everything will be over soon,” Safita said.

“And my corruption will be purged.”

“Safita-sama! Please, grant me an audience!”

At that moment, the door burst open with a loud bang. Safita turned her gaze in irritation, only to widen his eyes in shock.

“You are…”

“Pleased to meet you, Safita Manasirius al-Elrand..”

The melodic sound of the Weitz language, distinct from Elrand’s tongue, echoed in the dimly lit room still shrouded in the darkness of night. The figure who stepped forward, cloaked in an aura of regal dignity reminiscent of a spirit, was none other than—

“I am Albert, the crown prince of the Weitz Empire. I request immediate access to the underground of the cathedral.”

* * *

“Ah…!”

Leo, who had been peering cautiously through a gap in what appeared to be a spirit cloth, let out a small scream.

“What’s wrong?”

Lena, who was standing back-to-back with Leo and keeping watch behind them, turned sharply to him.

With trembling hands, Leo covered his mouth and muttered softly, “The trouble has already arrived…”

He gestured Lena over, swapping places so she could peer through the cloth and see what he had seen.

Sure enough, in the space ahead, they saw the prince they had parted ways with just moments ago.

Lena let out a groan of despair upon recognizing the scene.

Leo felt the same way.

“Why is he already here…? He’s too fast!”

Earlier, Lena had made the shocking observation that the prince might not want to execute Leo, but actually held feelings for him. Leo couldn’t fully grasp this revelation, and his ingrained fear couldn’t simply vanish.

Seeing the black-haired prince disguised in peasant attire didn’t evoke feelings of amazement, but rather a startled reaction similar to that of a housewife finding something dark and unexpected in the kitchen.

As Albert’s stern gaze sent shivers down his spine, Lena noticed Gustav’s presence behind him.

“I see… The holy knight must have used spirit power. Gustav, was it? He must have sensed your ‘danger’ and coordinated with the prince, then used the wind to travel quickly to get here.”

Lena’s sharp observations were impressive, but even with the explanation, the situation didn’t change.

Leo felt like a trapped animal upon realizing they had wandered into a room filled with wolves.

Since escaping the dungeon with the altar, Leo and Lena had chosen to use hidden passageways instead of well-trodden hallways.

According to Lena, it was natural for the cathedral, once a palace used by royalty, to have secret passages and escape routes.

Given Leo’s bloodied appearance, leaving bloodstains throughout the building wouldn’t have been wise. They had taken the risk to escape through the hidden passageways, but—

(Why is it that my instincts fail me at the worst times?)

Instead of leading them out of the cathedral, the secret passageway had brought them to its deepest part, where the prince and regent were both present.

Leo felt dizzy as he grasped the gravity of the situation.

They found themselves behind a wall with spirit cloth hanging in a room close to the balcony, trying to assess the situation when things escalated.

The prince and the regent began arguing, and then Albert intervened.

(What a mess! I can smell gold, but I can’t sense danger!)

Leo whispered to Lena that they should retreat, but there wasn’t time to rush into the room under these circumstances.

But then—

“Why is the prince of Weitz here?”

“I don’t have time to explain in detail. I, as the empire’s first crown prince, officially request that you, as the autonomous region’s ruler, release the underground of the cathedral. For the details, why not ask that old man over there? I would like to hear the story as well.”

Behind the cloth, a tense exchange ensued.

(Wait, Lord Safita can speak in Weitzian so well?)

Leo was briefly impressed by Safita’s linguistic ability, but then he saw Albert glance at Gustav.

The sound of the air crackling and the thud of Alir Ad hitting the floor made Leo shudder again.

(What just happened?)

What had the prince done to Alir Ad, the elder who had lost his mind?

Albert’s magic had gotten stronger than before. His killing intent was showing. 

(Does he really like me? Could it be a lie? How can someone with those cold eyes be capable of sweet emotions?)

Albert’s cold expression made Leo shiver. His ice-blue eyes were more akin to absolute-zero flames than ice.

Compared to Alir Ad’s reptilian smile, Albert’s stare was much more fearsome.

Not to mention, Gustav’s expression was just as terrifying.

His hawk-like face showed an intensity never seen before, filled with a rage that seemed capable of killing someone with just a look.

(Why is Gustav so angry? He’s going up against the church’s top figure! Gustav should stop the prince!)

Gustav’s intense anger was due to understanding the extent of the church’s corruption, which had caused the young girl distress and confusion.

However, neither Leo nor Lena knew the true reason.

Two men stood in the room, radiating fierce anger that could crush everything in their path.

Safita, overwhelmed by their presence, alternated his gaze between the downed Alir Ad and the prince and his knight.

“What are you…”

Safita murmured, unable to continue.

He was shocked by the prince’s audacious actions but aware of Alir Ad’s attempt to harm Weitz’s priestess.

Albert took a step forward toward Safita, who was visibly tensed.

“That man on the ground—Alir Ad, you called him. Answer me now: where did you take Leonora von Hakenberg, our country’s priestess, and what did you do to her?”

With that question, Safita understood why Albert had come.

His gaze locked on Safita, who raised his head, realizing the gravity of the situation.

But he struggled to find the words to explain the truth to the enraged prince.

“My apologies, Prince Albert.”

“For what?”

“She…”

Safita’s face contorted with pain, unable to find the words.

Lena, eavesdropping on the conversation, tensed up.

(Stop!)

She was aware of the situation and realized Albert’s aura seemed to be glowing slightly and trembling.

His black hair appeared to be reverting to its original blonde at the tips.

(Could it be… is this…)

It wasn’t a faint aura or poor dye job. Albert’s entire body seemed to be brimming with magic so strong it overwhelmed the surrounding spirit power.

(How can this be…)

It was a phenomenon she had never seen before. Lena’s mind raced.

In Elrand, during the ritual, magic was supposed to weaken due to the heightened spirit power. It should have affected Albert too.

He had even seemed to have reduced his magic in preparation for his journey.

However, Albert was one of the most powerful magic users in history.

Moreover—

(He once destroyed a magic-sealing bracelet to unleash his power.)

He was capable of instantly releasing massive amounts of magic.

Magic training is like strength training; once someone has experienced the process, they can regenerate faster.

In other words, Albert could easily overcome the spirit power and wield his magic again.

(But the scale of this power is the real issue…)

Staring at Albert’s glowing figure, Lena broke into a cold sweat.

Earlier, when Albert had heard that the person he loved would stay with him forever, his joy caused his magic to surge.

But now, the anger and hatred stemming from the harm inflicted upon his beloved could lead to an even greater release of power.

(Safita, please don’t provoke the prince further!)

Lena, fully aware of the potential devastation, prayed Safita wouldn’t exacerbate the situation. But Safita continued with a pained expression.

“She… was offered to the dark spirits… that’s what the man said.”

“…”

(What!)

At that moment, Albert’s hair stood on end and turned golden, his ice-blue eyes flashing with pure fury.

Lena screams internally.