Chapter 4
Tak. The door closed, and the radiant smile on El's face slowly faded. His silver eyes, now laced with chill, were piercingly cold.
"Excuse me, Your Holiness."
A holy knight in crisp uniform stepped forward. El—no, Pope Elrior—removed his mask and the hood enchanted with illusion magic. Long sky-blue hair, symbolic of the Sun Temple's pope, cascaded down to his waist. His skin was flawlessly white and clear. His beauty was divine, almost a manifestation of god itself, infused with holiness. Yet that exquisite face held only an eerie chill, devoid of anything human.
The holy knight staring at Elrior swallowed hard. Standing before this apostle of god always made the air freeze, as if he himself were turning to ice. Barely managing to roll his eyes, the knight spoke up to escape the suffocating atmosphere.
"......Your meeting with Mir was... enjoy—Guhk!"
"Shut up."
A strand of beautiful silver holy power wrapped around the holy knight's throat in the blink of an eye. While the knight choked, unable to speak, El uncorked a bottle of red wine from the table—without even using an opener.
"I'm reminiscing right now. You're interrupting."
His unfocused eyes stared endlessly at the spot where Kashmir had sat. Elrior tilted the bottle to his lips without so much as glancing at the glass on the table. He truly looked like a madman. The holy knight, serving Elrior for the first time, finally understood why the ditty sung by those lavender-eyed fools called the pope a lunatic.
"Report."
Having drained the entire bottle, Elrior wiped the blood-red wine from his lips and commanded. Freed at last from the holy power strangling his throat, the knight's Adam's apple bobbed violently. Those oppressive silver eyes warned that any nonsense would mean death.
"......This morning, after completing the magic beast subjugation, Mir collapsed on her way home."
"What?"
Boom!
Silver holy power shattered the wall to the holy knight's right. Murderous intent flashed in those silver eyes. Cold sweat drenched the knight as he met that gaze—like it could tear a man apart alive.
"A-As you know, Mir is sensitive to presence, so we had to observe from a considerable distance. We didn't witness the collapse itself, but it absolutely wasn't due to any external attack! We took the fallen Mir to the hospital and confirmed she received an examination!"
The knight's face was frantic as he rushed to explain. Elrior blinked slowly. The knight found those suddenly serene silver eyes more terrifying than the rage.
"What caused the collapse?"
The knight hesitated briefly, knowing a lie would make things far worse. He squeezed his eyes shut.
"......Overwork."
Boom!
The wall to the knight's left exploded. His massive shoulders jerked. Regardless of the knight's trembling, Elrior ground his teeth.
Why, of all things!
Kashmir refused Elrior's help. One might think she'd accept it once, pretending she couldn't manage alone—but she rejected him without hesitation if it went even slightly overboard. That unyielding nature he loved manifested here too.
There was nothing he could do. Offer paltry sums of money, heal minor wounds, watch from afar—that was it. Even as pope, wielding power rivaling the emperor, Elrior felt utter helplessness.
His icy silver eyes fixed on the holy knight. For a moment, Elrior considered killing the fool to vent his frustration. The knight's body stiffened, sensing real mortal danger.
There are no worthless people. No one has the right to judge others' worth.
But surely, the woman he loved wouldn't approve of such acts. Elrior sighed deeply. The only thing restraining his impulse to blow up Helene Restaurant was Kashmir.
"Get out."
"Y-Yes, sir!"
Relieved to be alive, the holy knight bolted from the room at impossible speed. Alone now, Elrior roughly ran dry hands over his face and slumped back against the chair, strength draining from his body.
"Why...... won't you even give me a chance? Why do you make me so wretched? I've finally reached a position where I can do anything, yet I can't do a thing for you."
Days abandoned by the fluorescent pink sun dragged on endlessly. Having lost his god, Elrior always lived in the night.
"Another night......"
Only an echo thick with longing filled the empty room.
I'm exhausted.
The day was grueling once work wrapped up. Dragging my heavy body along, I caught sight of my reflection in a shop window. Long black curls sticking out wildly, no time to fix them. Dark shadows under my eyes. Dull fluorescent pink eyes drained of life. My face screamed overwork.
Aria will worry if she sees me like this.
I rubbed my pale cheek, trying to soften the fatigued expression, but it only twisted further—no improvement. I shuffled my drooping feet toward the alley beyond. Then, the metallic tang of blood stung my nose.
"Surround him!"
I halted mid-step into the alley. Backing up quickly, I scanned the situation. A man bleeding from stab wounds, surrounded by black-masked thugs unarmed? No—weapons drawn.
No need to overthink. A vivid scene of assassination in progress.
"You're a rat in a trap now!"
The apparent leader of the assassins cackled. An overly theatrical laugh.
Cringe.
Shocking that anyone could say such lines out loud. My face twisted involuntarily.
"Who’s behind this?"
The wounded man groaned in pain but glared sharply. His eyes were cold and resolute—not like someone on death's door.
A noble.
Easy judgment. Disguised as a commoner, but that innate nobility in crisis couldn't be hidden by ragged clothes.
High-ranking, even.
Eight assassins total. Skilled ones, yet no energy emanated from the man.
Spending big to take out one ordinary guy.
Pros don't move for peanuts. Sending eight for an unarmed noble meant he was no small fry.
"What good's knowing the mastermind when you're dying today?"
The leader sneered. Clutching his abdominal wound, the man let out a hollow laugh. So bitter it made even me grimace.
"True. Who else but my dear mother would want me dead? What a pointless question."
......Dysfunction central.
My family was messy too, but Mom never tried to kill us sisters. Watching him casually staunch the wound—like this wasn't his first rodeo—stirred pity.
"Haha! Sharp as ever! Pity your wits end here!"
The assassin laughed unnaturally again, raising his sword high and striding toward the man. The noble stared at the blade's tip, then closed his eyes in resignation. Pitifully poignant.
Taking it all in, I sighed deeply. My stance was clear.
I pulled my cloak hood low and donned the mask from my pocket.
Hope this doesn't cause trouble later.
Another sigh. Tangling with assassins never ended well. Could drag me into headaches.
Still, whatever the cost, I'd save him. Even if this moment repeated, I'd act the same.
Why, you ask?
Because if I walked away, he'd die for sure.
Life has value in itself. No one deserves to die. Never forget that, dear.
Recalling my ideal mentor's words, I closed my eyes briefly. No reason needed to save a life, just as none was needed to live it. He was alive, and I could save him. That was all.
With a gust of fierce mana, I leaped lightly, landing before the wounded man to block the assassins.
"Wh-What?! Who the hell are you?!"
The assassins panicked, hastily aiming weapons at me. I blinked.
Who?
I glanced sidelong at the injured man. Face pale from blood loss, yet lips vividly red. A beauty that suited "handsome man" despite being male. Dazzlingly gorgeous.
Like a damsel in distress.
The unfiltered thought slipped out.
"The prince on a white horse."
The air turned frosty in an instant. The instant princess scowled, and the tense assassins went slack-jawed.
"Madman."
One muttered, eyes screaming utter lunatic.
They don't know my face anyway.
A touch of belated embarrassment, but I shrugged it off coolly. Didn't matter if they thought me crazy.
Let's end this quick.
Hand drifting to my sword hilt absentmindedly, I yanked it back.
Don't wanna clean up bodies.
Skilled, but no match for a Sword Master. Swinging recklessly would kill them for sure. Frowning slightly, I scratched my head.
Weapon besides a sword?
Rummaging my subspatial pocket for something usable. Not infinite, but spacious—full of odds and ends. Ignoring the stares treating me like a freak, I kept digging until I pulled out a long, smooth object.
Then froze.
Why do I even have this......?
I stared blankly at it. A long, sleek steel pipe.
"Kuhahaha! He really is nuts!"
An assassin burst into laughter. The wounded man, seeing his would-be savior as insane, wore a resigned look.
These bastards......
My brow twitched. Mood soured.
"Mad's fine, but suicidal? Crawling into the lion's den with that? You think it'll take us—"
No need to refute the leader's bluster. I just infused the pipe with energy.
Whoooosh!
With a howling gale, ferocious jet-black aura enveloped the pipe.