"As expected, you figured it out right away," Nasser replied, pulling out a chair by the side table. His voice was still barely above a whisper.
"You don’t have to keep your voice down. So?" Ian added, raising the bottle to his lips.
Nasser sat and smiled faintly. "Yes. The report began the day after we left. But under the pretense of a proper investigation, he delayed the process by requesting an audience with the count."
Starting with the fluff, huh?
Ian took a slow drink.
It was a convenient excuse. After all, the count had officially spoken with him.
"A few days later, though, one of the deacons volunteered to act as a courier to the Great Church. He asked that the report be completed quickly."
Nasser chuckled before continuing, "He said it made no sense for you to travel west instead of heading to the capital at a time like this."
"Figures." Ian pulled the bottle from his lips, one corner of his mouth curling slightly. It was suspicious, no doubt about that.
"The bishop briefly explained the situation in the North, based on what he heard from the count. That resources were needed to deal with the aftermath of the war and support the royal house.""He shouldn’t have said that," Ian muttered, extending the bottle forward.
Nasser leaned in to take it, nodding. "I told him it would only make it look like he was taking your side. A common mistake among defensive types. Once people have already decided on a conclusion, rational arguments don’t matter."
"Speaking from experience?"
"Of course." Nasser smiled and took a drink.
Ian snorted quietly as Nasser continued, "It seems the bishop didn’t consider that angle. In any case, the deacon argued that given the controversies surrounding you, it would be proper to inform the Great Church as soon as possible."
"And the bishop agreed to that, I assume."
"Which is why he insisted the report be thorough and complete."
"Great." Ian clicked his tongue. From his perspective, speed would have been the safer choice. Delays only invited suspicion. "Guess we’ll have to put on a show before we leave."
"If you do, it’ll keep any trouble from falling onto the bishop," Nasser said, handing the bottle back. Judging by his smile, he clearly wanted that.
Ian took the bottle and chuckled softly. "I didn’t think you’d care about that sort of thing."
"Helping someone who serves the heavens the right way is also a way to atone, is it not?"
"So this is about your redemption again…" Ian laughed under his breath and took another sip. "Anyway, it sounds like the report’s being sent earlier than planned. But that’s not why he warned me, is it?"
"No. Of course not. The report will probably be delayed another couple of days—"
"I’ve heard enough setup." Ian cut him off. "Give me the important part."
Nasser nodded immediately. "Four days ago, another deacon dispatched by the Great Church requested permission to visit Racliffe."
You should’ve just started with that.
"He claimed it was proper to notify the church there of your visit. His rank seems higher, given that it’s the central region of the West—ah, I’m rambling again."
Catching Ian’s look, Nasser cleared his throat lightly.
"The count ordered horses to be provided this morning, which bought us about half a day. But in any case, that deacon has already departed for Racliffe."
"So by now, he’s well on his way," Ian muttered. By the time they left Drenorov, that man would already be in Racliffe.
"Yes. Since he doesn’t know you’re heading there, he may send someone here later to trace your movements."
"And since we’re going there, we might run into them," Ian said evenly.
Nasser smiled and nodded.
Ian let out a chuckle and shrugged. "If it comes to that, all the better. We’ll find out right away how the duke intends to act."
"Yes. And if he turns out to be hostile, as expected, how will you respond?"
At Nasser’s careful question, Ian's gaze drifted toward the window.
The sun had already begun to set. He realized he had been lost in thought longer than expected.
As he watched the sky slowly deepen in color, Nasser said, "Me and Lord Mev will be parting ways with the caravan here, right?"
Ian replied without even turning back, "We’ve already settled that."
"Yes. But before we part, I thought it might be best to inform my lord of the situation."
Ian finally raised a brow and glanced back.
Nasser met his gaze with an easy smile. "It’s difficult to keep hiding things from the one I serve. And besides, the duke doesn’t seem like much of a threat to her anyway."
So it’s really about his own discomfort.
Ian let out a chuckle.
In more ways than one, the man was consistent.
"Fine. Works out nicely, actually." Ian stepped down from the window.
Another set of familiar footsteps was approaching from the corridor.
Nasser blinked, then softly realized, "It seems she is awake."
"Sounds like it," Ian answered without turning, already opening the door.
Just as Mev was about to knock, she froze. She met his eyes for a brief moment, then lowered her hand with a small, awkward smile.
"You’re up."
"Never slept. Come in."
"Alright. I wanted to talk—" As Ian stepped aside, Mev entered—then halted.
She had just noticed Nasser rising from his chair. Nasser met her eyes and smiled calmly.
"Please don’t mind me, my lord. I was just on my way out."
"No. You don’t have to leave." Mev blinked, stepping further inside, her face turning neutral to hide her surprise.
"That won’t be necessary. I happen to have something else to take care of." Nasser shook his head lightly, adjusting his hood. "I’ll ask Lady Anna to pass along the message. My lord."
"Alright. Good work." Ian stepped aside as Nasser crossed the room.
As he passed Mev, he gave a faint smile. "I’ll finish what remains and get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow. Enjoy your time."
"Ah, right. See you tomorrow." Mev gave a small nod.
Nasser left the room, and as the door closed, an oddly awkward silence settled in.
Click—
Turning, Ian walked to the ornate chest by the wall and opened it, breaking the silence.
"I was just about to check this."
He pulled out the neatly rolled Scroll of Correspondence and smiled. "Want to take a look together?"
"Sure. Why not?" She nodded, though her gaze slipped away slightly.
Ian chuckled and moved toward the small table by the window.
Contrary to expectation, the scroll didn’t contain news from the capital—just scattered updates and trivial reports from the North.
However, oddly enough, that made it easier to relax. And even more so once the sun had set, and the others, led by Thesaya, began drifting into his room one by one.
***
The chapel was spotless. There wasn’t a single trace left of the horrific ritual that had once taken place there.
Standing at its center, Ian placed a hand over his chest and looked up at the statue rising above the altar.
At least I’m seeing it one more time before I leave.
The figure, its fingers entirely missing on one hand, was the Goddess of Prosperity, Della Lu.
The divinity emanating from it felt far clearer than he remembered. Whether it was because he had stepped onto the path of transcendence, or because she was truly watching, he couldn’t tell.
In any case, he only looked for a moment.
Without hesitation, Ian lowered his gaze and removed his hand from his chest. His so-called prayer of gratitude was nothing more than an excuse to visit the church before leaving.
"May there be glory…"
"May there be prosperity…"
Priests and deacons stationed around the hall murmured as his gaze passed over them.
It was the reaction he wanted, but Ian ignored it, instead glancing toward the corridor along the side of the chapel.
Luce was walking out, his expression stiff.
Ian met him with a cold smile.
"May prosperity bless the fertile land. It has been a while, Agent of the Saint." Luce approached and stopped at an appropriate distance.
Ian gave a slight nod. "It has."
"Seeing you offer thanks to the Goddess of Prosperity, I take it you’re preparing to depart already," Luce added calmly, though the tension beneath it was unmistakable. He had clearly heard everything from Anna.
Ian’s lips curled slightly. "I would have liked to stay longer, but I’d rather not stir unnecessary trouble in the city."
"Trouble?"
"I heard from the count. You’ve been preparing a report for the Great Church, asking in detail about the purpose of my visit," Ian replied flatly.
Luce’s face stiffened as he lowered his gaze slightly. "I merely followed proper procedure, Agent of the Saint."
"I’m sure you did." Ian let out a cold, quiet scoff, his eyes sharpening. "But I came here not as the Agent of the Platinum Dragon, but simply to fulfill my duty as an Archduke. You understand that now, don’t you?"
"Of course." Luce’s voice trembled faintly. He knew Ian was putting on an act—and yet, the sheer pressure in his tone made it impossible not to react.
It was exactly the response Ian had wanted.
"Thank you for repaying past favors in such a manner, Bishop. I won’t forget it," Ian added, his tone even.
"May the heavens watch over you." Luce’s lips moved faintly.
It was clearly meant in earnest, but Ian didn’t respond. He simply turned on his heel and walked off without a word.
Mev and Miguel naturally fell in beside him, both wearing rigid expressions.
Maybe I overdid it at the end…
Only after leaving the chapel did Ian’s lips twitch slightly. From anyone else’s perspective, it would have looked like he was threatening the bishop, more than enough to erase any suspicion the pure devotees might have toward Luce.
That was as far as the stray thought went. Ian lifted his gaze past the church’s wide-open gates.
Centered around his carriage, a long caravan stood waiting, wagons piled high with cargo and lined up along the main road.
All around them, the people of Drenorov crowded together, gathered to watch him depart.
"He’s coming out!"
"Glory to the Radiant Light!"
"That’s him, the Demigod of the North!"
As Ian stepped through the gates, murmurs and exclamations rose from all around.
It wasn’t just gratitude for what he had done. The rumors surrounding him had clearly spread far and wide.
Of course, Ian ignored it all as usual.
At the bottom of the steps, he looked down at Count Morgan Westwood and his second son, Rinel, who stood waiting beside the carriage.
It wasn’t just gratitude for past help, "Did your prayer go well?"
Ian gave a small nod. "It did. I won’t forget the help you’ve given me."
"I should be the one saying that, Your Grace. I won’t forget your generosity," the count answered immediately, then glanced at Rinel.
As if waiting for it, Rinel bent his knee. "You have my sincere gratitude for your tremendous help, Agent of the Saint."
From the look on his face, it was clear he already had some idea of the future awaiting him.
Ian’s lips curved faintly. "We’ll see in time whether you truly mean that."
Rinel froze, then looked up at him.
Ian met his gaze without hesitation and added, "You already have an idea why I helped your father. When the time comes, I’ll return to see whether it was a meaningful decision."
"Yes. I will remember that." Swallowing hard, Rinel bowed his head, sounding almost resigned.
Beside him, the count, in contrast, wore a satisfied smile. "If you ever have a need, please return. Even if I’ve already returned to the earth, this boy will assist you."
"I’ll remember." Ian nodded.
The count bowed once more before stepping aside. Not forgetting to give Rinel a last look, Ian boarded the carriage.
"You’re back sooner than I expected." Thesaya’s relaxed voice drifted from inside. She lounged by the window, idly brushing Lily’s hair.
"The job’s done," Ian replied as he took his seat, then immediately turned toward the open door.
Mev stood there, holding it. She looked at him with a slightly subdued expression before lowering her head.
"We’re ready to depart, Your Grace."