A Meeting That Shouldn't Happen (2)
Baynen stared blankly down at the crystal orb, then lifted his head to look at me, opening his mouth as if he couldn't quite grasp it.
"You want me to tell the bishop I bought this?"
"No, that's not it. Wouldn't that just make the church suspicious of you?"
"Then what you just said...?"
I glanced warily at Leviham as I spoke.
"Just keep it like it's your own possession. I'll draw the bishop's attention, so use that opening to slip into the mansion with the orb. Head straight to the study and place it on the desk."
From Leviham's position, he could probably see the crystal orb in Baynen's hand, but not the witch's mark etched on it. That was the key—we needed to pass it off as an ordinary decorative crystal orb bought on a whim. No one would notice unless they got close, so if we exploited the blind spot in his vision and hustled Baynen inside quickly, we'd have our happy ending.
Baynen, grasping my explanation, hid the orb in his bosom with a worried look.
"Not a bad plan, but won't that put you in danger, young master? The moment I'm caught with this thing, your whole scheme blows up. Fooling a priest is a serious crime, isn't it?"
"I told you before. For the greater good, one person has to make a sacrifice. If it comes to that, I'll take the fall."
"Ah. So that's... "
Baynen let out a sigh and nodded.
"Got it. If you draw their eyes, I'll dash inside as fast as I can."
"Good. I trust you."
Baynen and I exchanged a knowing glance before he checked Leviham and crept toward the mansion. Meanwhile, I approached the bishop with a booming laugh.
"Hahaha! Bishop Leviham! It's been too long!"
Leviham, who had been eyeing Baynen suspiciously, turned to me. A fresh smile bloomed on his face as our eyes met.
"Indeed. As you say, it's been a while since we've seen each other. I hope you've been well?"
"I've been fine, no troubles at all. Thanks to the Light God's gracious protection over our house."
"I'm glad to hear it. But that knight over there—what has him in such a hurry...?"
Leviham's gaze shifted back to Baynen. The moment he turned, I jumped in desperately.
"Ah! Did you, uh, come about the magic?"
"The magic? Ah."
Leviham turned his eyes to the magic circle etched into the lawn, as if he'd momentarily forgotten. The scorch marks were vivid enough to make out with the naked eye.
"Yes. I wanted to discuss it. I didn't witness it myself, but I heard from the faithful that a massive dragon's roar erupted from the Deharm estate, followed by rain."
"That's right. We had help from the imperial palace mage sent by the court and a full professor from the university magic tower."
"Such modesty. They merely lent a hand. The one who created the miracle's foundation was none other than Viscount Theorad himself. And the one who defied the heavens' secrets as well."
Leviham pulled his gaze from the circle and fixed it on me. His faint smile sent a chill down my spine, but I kept my composure, feigning calm.
He observed me for a long moment before breaking into a mischievous grin.
"Just kidding. Making rain fall whenever you want is ultimately for the world's benefit, so it can't go against the Light God's commandments. If my jest caused you any worry, I apologize."
"Ah... No, not at all. Worry? Perish the thought."
The air grew awkward for no reason. After an embarrassed pause, I gestured toward the mansion.
"Please, come inside. It's not great weather to stand out here long. I'd be honored if you'd let me treat you properly."
"Your kind words are appreciated, but a servant of the god can't expect such hospitality."
Can't expect hospitality. Leviham spoke mildly, but I couldn't take it at face value. It was the standard priestly coquetry. I'd heard plenty of tales about families who sent them away on that pretense and suffered for it later.
"Haha, it's not some grand feast—just a cup of tea. Even the Light God would forgive that much."
Pressing him again, Leviham nodded as if he had no choice.
"If you insist so strongly, I suppose I'll impose."
"Then allow me to escort you to the drawing room."
Relief washed over me—he hadn't refused. Though Habid usually handled this, he was bedridden with a cold, so it couldn't be helped.
...By now, Baynen should have finished the task I gave him.
If I just entertained Leviham and sent him on his way, everything would be fine. But no rash moves. Steel yourself, I thought, chatting leisurely with him as we reached the drawing room.
"Have you tried Valjeum Mountain chocolate? It melts so smoothly in your mouth that it's just..."
I froze mid-sentence as I opened the door naturally. The elf was sitting at the drawing room table, popping chocolate into her mouth. A teacup of black tea sat beside her—she was clearly enjoying a proper tea time.
This brat must be the reason Habid's out with his 'cold'...!
'Get down from that chair right now! The bishop's here!'
I gestured urgently without words, but the elf just stared at me with her red eyes, blank as ever.
*Munch munch.* Her plump cheeks bulging innocently only made it more infuriating. Gripping my patience, I quietly closed the door.
Leviham tilted his head curiously.
"Viscount Theorad? Is something wrong?"
"Well, you see..."
How to explain? That my elf slave was hogging all the chocolate, so hospitality was off the table? Absurd. Or that I'd changed my mind, so please leave? Worst option. We'd have to go in eventually.
"...It's nothing."
Half-resigned, I opened the door again—and feigned surprise.
The elf, who had been scarfing chocolates at the table moments ago, now stood a respectful distance away, hands politely clasped, gazing our way.
"Welcome, Master. Bishop Leviham as well."
Was this a carryover from yesterday? It looked like she was playing along, knowing 'harsh punishment' awaited.
Relieved inwardly, I led Leviham inside.
"Haha, isn't she well-trained? She must have prepared refreshments seeing the bishop enter the mansion."
"I see. Truly an obedient slave. But..."
Pausing as he entered, Leviham clutched his stomach like it troubled him.
"Before we chat, might I use the washroom? I came straight from service, so my stomach's unsettled."
"Of course. If you'd like, I can assign a servant to guide you."
But Leviham waved it off, as if it were too much trouble.
"I couldn't impose on anyone else. I've visited before, so I remember where it is. I'll be quick—don't worry."
"If you say so... Very well."
I agreed reluctantly, and he bowed politely before slipping out the open door.
Did I slip up somewhere? My mind raced uneasily when someone tugged lightly at my sleeve. It was the elf.
"M-Master... I suddenly need to pee too..."
"Insolent wench."
Taking it as a plea for scolding, I grabbed her ear and hoisted her up.
"Eek—! Eeek—!"
She stood on tiptoe, eyes tearing up.
"You brainless fool. If you need to pee, just go to the washroom. Why tell your master such filth and ruin my mood?"
"S-Sorry! I'm sorryyy...!"
"Hmph. I'll let it slide this time—watch your words next time."
I released her ear, and her whimpers faded. It must have hurt more than expected; she rubbed it while sneaking glances at me.
"C-Can I, um, use the washroom, Master?"
"Don't ask the obvious."
"Hiiing. Then from today, I'll use the washroom..."
Thank you, Master.
She murmured softly, bowed her head, and slipped out the open door.
I watched indifferently—until a chill ran down my spine with belated realization.
'From today?'
Where the hell had she been peeing until now? On Father's statue...?
No. No way.
Don't jump to conclusions. She couldn't be that demonic...
Leviham slipped out of the drawing room and headed straight for the study. Suspicion was a sin, but verifying certainty was not.
In the study, I should find irrefutable proof.
He was determined to uncover why Hamtarshin had been crippled and drag Theorad to a heresy trial.
Opening the study door with resolve, he soon confronted Theorad's corruption.
A witch's crystal orb?
There it sat plainly on the desk, unmistakably a witch's artifact, marked by its emblem.
Grunting, Leviham approached—and froze in shock for another reason.
Isn't this the Dokwol Guildmaster's mark?
The red-painted inverted cross on the orb's surface, entwined with thorny roses—it was undoubtedly the Dokwol Guild's unique sigil.
Theorad's in league with the Dokwol Guildmaster?
What connection could they possibly have? He didn't know, but an ominous dread coursed through him.
Trading mass destruction weapons? To topple the church?
Acting the pious believer on the surface while plotting such schemes in secret. He wanted to alert the church and summon the knights, but this alone wasn't enough evidence. Walpurgis Night's pact forbade branding someone a heretic over mere witch dealings.
The rest... better investigate later.
Lingering too long after claiming a washroom break would arouse suspicion. If the smiling Theorad—with serpents coiled behind his facade—grew wary, there'd be no turning back. No guarantee he wouldn't end up like Hamtarshin.
Best to retreat for now and plan ahead. Leviham exited without touching anything, to hide his visit. He closed the door softly and turned—only to gasp at the unexpected encounter.
"Hee..."
The elf slave stood in the hall, watching him. As if she'd known he'd emerge.
"That's not the washroom..."
She drawled, stepping closer one foot at a time—chillingly so. Just a lowly slave approaching, yet the air grew heavy with oppressive silence. His feet, hands, lips refused to move. He was utterly overwhelmed.
"Strange, isn't it? Why's Bishop Leviham of the diocese emerging from Master's study?"
*Tap tap.*
Her light steps halted inches away—steps that demanded gravity. Sweat beading, Leviham stared at the elf looming before him.
Are you... really a slave?
Her piercing gaze held no slave's meekness—arrogant, authoritative, domineering, vicious. As if this silence was the sole mercy she deigned to grant.
But even that seemed to weary her; she parted her lips in a languid tone.
"You should answer."
Beneath her beautiful silver hair, blood-red eyes flashed with some madness.
"I'm asking you, aren't I?"
Leviham felt it keenly then.
Something was terribly wrong...