Lawrence Kisca had been injured.

The moment he heard the words, Siliar halted mid-stride. It would be more accurate to say he was shaken. Of all people, it was his brother-in-law who had met with trouble.

“Lawrence is hurt? How did that happen?”

“Last night, he left the temple for a personal engagement and was attacked.”

“A personal—no, never mind. I don’t need to know that.”

Siliar exhaled and raked a hand through his hair. The rough motion betrayed his state of mind.

After all, hadn’t Martiana gone to the temple? She would hear the same news.

‘She’ll be startled.’

Strangely enough, he found himself more worried about his wife’s reaction than about the man who had been attacked.

Lawrence would be fine. Nobil had said it was an ass*ult. No one had mentioned death.

That meant he had been attacked, but not gravely enough to threaten his life.

Still—

“Is that why His Majesty summoned me?”

The situation about to unfold would be troublesome, if nothing else. The guard who had delivered the message to the estate said not only the king but all the officials had gathered.

They would undoubtedly blame the royal guard for this.

“Yes, he is in the audience chamber.”

“Let’s go in.”

Siliar tugged at the collar of his shirt and strode forward. The audience chamber was already prepared for his arrival; the doors stood wide open, as though awaiting him.

The moment he stepped inside—without even needing to announce his name—the people within rose to their feet.

All except King Eremrus.

“I pay my respects to Your Majesty.”

“Yes. Come here.”

From his seat at the head of the long rectangular table, the king lifted a hand and gestured to the place beside him.

Siliar took the indicated seat at the king’s side. Once he had settled, the officials who had been standing returned to their chairs.

“I know you’re busy, but today’s matter is somewhat unusual.”

“I’ve heard. Priest Lawrence was attacked.”

“Yes. Over that issue, the High Priest has sent me a letter of protest.”

Eremrus clicked his tongue softly as he toyed with the sealed envelope in front of him.

In truth, it had been giving him quite a headache. Although he had acted as if it were no grave matter in front of the assembled ministers, it was not something to be dismissed lightly.

“This is troublesome.”

The man who had been attacked was no ordinary man; he was the heir to the High Priest.

For generations, the Kingdom of Aetium had been sustained by two pillars of power.

The first was the royal court, led by the king, which governed the land and oversaw its laws and administration.

The second pillar was the temple, which served the gods and brought healing to the people.

These two pillars existed in ancient harmony, bound by an unspoken pact of coexistence. Neither stood above the other. It was once said that the king was the sun and the temple was the moon. Together, they formed a single sky, yet each moved in its own orbit. The king did not interfere in the temple’s sacred affairs, and the temple never involved itself in matters of state or worldly rule.

However, there was one matter that the temple guarded with unwavering vigilance: succession.

Above all else, they fiercely protected the healing power inherited through the High Priest’s bloodline. Within the temple, that lineage was considered sacred, no less important than the crown prince to the throne. It was the heart of their authority and the foundation of their influence.

Without that gift, the temple would never have commanded such reverence. Some even said that the Marquis Kisca family’s healing power marked a turning point in the temple’s history, creating a clear divide between its past and its future.

“And now the heir has been injured. Depending on how it went, it could have been fatal.”

From the account given, that seemed to be the case. Listening to Nobil present the summarized report before the king—

“When the priest arrived at Townhouse Street, someone attacked him from behind.”

The assailant had reportedly attempted to stab him several times with a sharp object. Fortunately, a passer-by noticed and shouted, preventing further injury.

“He sustained cuts to his arm, shoulder, abdomen and leg, but none of them are severe. However, while pursuing the suspect, the priest unfortunately broke his leg.”

“He chased after the attacker?”

Siliar frowned, clearly deeming it reckless.

Nobil took a deep breath and continued reading from the compiled documents.

“There have already been three similar incidents. Each time, a priest was attacked. It appears he believed the same culprit was responsible—and pursued them without hesitation.”

“Three more?”

“Yes, one was a year ago, another six months ago, and the third was four months ago. In those cases, the victims were lower-ranking priests, so the incidents did not receive the same level of attention as today’s.”

Having finished, Nobil closed the file and bowed his head towards the king.

Immediately, the atmosphere in the audience chamber fell silent. No one had anticipated further incidents beyond today’s.

Similar incidents included…

“Three more incidents?”

Matters unrelated to children were usually dealt with by Nobil and his subordinates. Although he did recall being informed of similar occurrences, he had never recognized them as being connected due to their infrequency.

“Then is this a series of attacks?”

One of the officials, who had remained silent until now, spoke in a stiff voice. Although he had voiced the question, his expression showed that he was unsure of the correct terminology.

“If the perpetrator deliberately targeted only priests, then yes.”

Siliar pressed his lips together and shifted in his seat. He had expected nothing more than a reprimand about public security before leaving, but this was no simple matter.

“There have been no fatalities so far.”

“But we have no way of knowing what may happen next.”

What if the attacker extends their hand beyond priests to ordinary citizens?

That anxious concern slipped out between Nobil’s explanations.

“Then what is the Royal Guard’s position on this matter? What do you intend to do moving forward?”

“You must begin an investigation at once. If this escalates further, we will have no face left before the temple.”

“If this is mishandled, it may be taken as evidence of a lapse in security. That would be a disgrace to the nation.”

The officials seated around the table voiced their opinions one by one. Naturally, all eyes in the chamber were on Siliar.

“Is it not true that there have been complaints about how the Guard has handled affairs? While, Your Excellency, as its head, has been preoccupied with other matters…”

“Other matters?”

Siliar, who had been listening quietly to the criticisms directed at him, suddenly shot the speaker a sharp look. The officials who met his gaze quickly lowered their eyes.

His features were already severe, and when he glared, few could withstand it.

“Complaints. I understand what you’re trying to say.”

He tilted his head slightly as he spoke. In truth, there was nothing incorrect in what they had said—save for one thing.

“It’s true that I’ve handled certain cases narrowly in the past.”

He acknowledged it without hesitation.

“I have no intention of making excuses. However, there is one point I must correct. Has the Guard not done its job properly? Do you even know what you’re saying?”

He asked, kicking the table leg with his knee and glaring at the man. The official who had lowered his head earlier did not dare raise it again.

Siliar continued.

“My own faults are one thing. But you will not belittle my subordinates. While everyone seated here sleeps soundly through the night, who do you think is the one protecting this city?”

“……”

“And when something does happen, where is the first place you come running to? If you’ve never done the work yourself, then do not speak of it so lightly.”

“……I misspoke.”

One of the officials mumbled an apology to the growling Siliar. Although he hadn’t started it, he seemed intent on defusing the situation before it escalated further.

Fortunately, Siliar stopped there.

Even a small apology was enough. There was no need to waste time on trivial disputes.

“Your Majesty.”

Siliar turned to Eremrus. The king, who had been observing the heated exchange at the table with a benevolent expression on his face, looked back at him gently when he addressed him.

“Speak.”

His face suggested he already knew what would be said.

“I will take charge of this matter.”

Siliar’s voice was resolute. As Commander of the Royal Guard, it was his duty to handle this issue.

The fact that the King had summoned him was significant in itself. Moreover, if similar incidents continued, the people would become uneasy.

They would begin to distrust one another. They would think that the kingdom was failing in its duty.

This would shake the very foundation of the realm itself.

The problem had to be resolved before it got to that stage.

“I grant you permission.”

Eremrus nodded without hesitation. As he did, he quietly patted Siliar’s shoulder—

A gesture meant for his dear cousin.

“Thank you for taking this on.”

His expression clearly said: I know you are still spending your time searching for your child.

“It is nothing.”

Siliar bowed his head before the king. For a fleeting moment, it was not his daughter who came to mind—but Martiana.

***

“What did you just say?”

Martiana, who had come to Lawrence’s room with Melissa, suddenly raised her voice.

Seeing Lawrence confined to his sickbed upon her arrival was shocking enough, but what she heard there hit her even harder.