Dozens of arched columns lined the corridor he walked through.

Heavy, dignified footsteps echoed through the quiet St. Magnus Hall corridor.

He wore such a gentle expression that he didn’t look like a man who’d just threatened someone moments ago.

The setting sun scattered through the arches, falling over his serene eyes. Yet somehow a cool chill flowed from the saint’s face.

‘His expression was never good whenever he saw that b*stard… To think they were entangled like this…’

Lev was skilled at concealing emotions. Especially if the other person was precious to her, she tended to hide her pain even more, not wanting to spread worry. 

That’s why he’d watched more carefully, but he never knew that b*stard with the unpleasant gaze was tormenting Lev in such a way.

Obvious.

The words he’d spewed earlier under the guise of slander, and his perception of women. Why he harbored ill feelings toward Lev was obvious.

It was the same context as pathetic males drooling over her. Watching such bastards made him feel like a huge stain was being put on his own image of loving every aspect and corner of her.

Going on about purity.

Young Solaith and adult Solaith both knew that while those with temple roofs over their heads shouted about purity with their mouths, most carried around filthy brains.

He’d kept that damned purity solely for Lev. What other reason could there be?

When he would someday hold her, when he’d make her his. Being prepared as someone completely clean himself. That was more honorable than dying for his country.

Even if Lev wasn’t a virgin, it didn’t matter. Whatever the reason, if he couldn’t have her first, he’d be her last. If the first was so important, he’d just offer his own first.

During his training period in the imperial capital, even during wartime, marriage proposals came in, but he refused them sharply. He ignored all social gatherings with women. Even to the point of being called impotent.

Happily, those efforts led to the glory of sharing each other’s first experience with her a few days ago.

Solaith entered his private quarters in St. Magnus Hall. His reflection appeared in the large square gold-framed mirror. His body, built through martial arts and training, had different density even beneath the thick vestments.

He gently applied chrism to his exposed neck. Then he changed into simple, easy-to-remove cassock and waited for night to come.

‘I’ll come find you tonight, Sister.’

Solaith was already happy thinking about exchanging secret words with her under moonlight late at night. Since they hadn’t been able to talk due to various matters recently, his smile wouldn’t fade thinking about having deep time together tonight.

A time when even the night-duty servants were deeply asleep.

Solaith headed toward the dormitory wearing a priest’s cape pulled up over his head. He planned to quietly wake the sleeping Lev and invite her to the annex.

The familiar stone path guided him toward the dormitory. The sound of grasshoppers chirping on the grass echoed across the wide plateau. Gracefully drooping ash trees hid the young man from the guards’ sight. The mountain range, thickly covered in dawn fog, was another world.

Whether he liked the night’s fragrance or because of the excitement of waiting for his lover, his heart pounded lightly.

Rustle.

Then, he heard what sounded like people in the distance. It was a sound coming from the mailbox in the southwest direction.

‘A human presence at this hour…’

It was a bad feeling. Solaith’s intuition was especially accurate in negative situations. He sharply turned his gaze to follow the traces of moving bushes. A somehow familiar shadow turned his suspicion into certainty.

‘Raoul, why is that b*stard here again?’

The priest was carefully opening the mailbox and putting something in.

Solaith instantly faced another unpleasant premonition. Regular correspondence exchanges took place around this time. That was communication with the Vatican.

D*mn it. The man who spat out an uncharacteristic curse approached the priest without hesitation.

“…Oh no!”

He shouted as soon as he spotted the man wearing a cape. Just from his build, he clearly seemed to be the person he least wanted to meet.

“What correspondence at this hour?”

Solaith asked patiently despite knowing. Raoul was grimacing while chewing his lips, but rolled his eyes hard trying to salvage the situation.

“It’s correspondence to my hometown. It’s not Your Holiness’s concern.”

“Is that so?”

Solaith knew the mercy he was extending right now was utterly meaningless. The priest’s reaction made it even clearer, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Take it out.”

“…As I just said, it’s not Your Holiness’s concern. It’s just personal correspondence.”

At the impudent response, the saint nearly exploded, abandoning reason. He urged again through gritted teeth, barely suppressing his murderous intent. The priest, whose spine went cold at the low voice, slowly pulled out his correspondence.

“Read it.”

After a long pause, the priest unfolded the correspondence he’d written.

[Vatican District 3,

398 Madeira Road,

St. Sansbourg Diocese.

Recipient: Sir Handel Root of the Inquisition

Greetings.

I am Third-rank Priest Raoul serving the Holy Father at Demaret Temple. I urgently request dispatch as a servant working at our temple is suspected of being a witch. The demon of l*st has bewitched a woman and is leading pure believers and priests down the path of immorality, so please come directly and judge that wickedness….]

Before he could even finish reading the beginning, the scrap of paper was torn away. No, from the moment Solaith snatched it, it ripped apart in his grip.

Solaith tore the paper in his hand to shreds. Then he stuffed them into the mouth of Raoul, who was stepping back with trembling pupils.

“Mmph!”

He screamed, but there was no way he could overpower Solaith with strength. Large hands shoved the dirty paper wad into the priest’s mouth. As ink, parchment, and wax seal mixed into his mouth, his hands came up in resistance.

Solaith immediately twisted his arm back and subdued him. With a cracking sound, the bone dislocated from the joint. Raoul couldn’t even scream, his mind going hazy from the worst pain he’d ever felt.

“Ah. I really wanted to remain a gentle man…”

Solaith let out a deep sigh. For Solaith, who’d been stealing Lev’s heart with cuteness or innocence that aroused protective instincts, gradually breaking down was a regrettable and heartbreaking situation. 

But since Raoul tried to frame Lev as a witch, there was no choice. He’d just have to be a legal beast for today.

A witch trial. Even thinking about it again was absurd.

“Father, I actually think witch hunts were all created by people like you. There’s absolutely no reason, no reason… Like in that letter you wrote there.”

Saying that, he twisted the opposite arm once more, held it behind, then pressed his foot on the back to make him kneel. 

The man with both arms folded in opposite directions and raised toward the sky writhed like a bug, muttering curses before shouting.

“F*ck…ing! You pathetic b*stard played by a b*tch. Even doing that, you’re Yusdainut blo—ugh!”

Solaith immediately stepped on the back of his head, shoving his mouth into the grass. Then he stomped several times with his boot heel until his crushed lips burst. It was behavior he’d only done when capturing snipers attacking civilian areas.

Blood foreign to him boiled throughout his body like a predator exercising hunting instincts after a long time. Solaith composed his emotions while keeping his voice pretending to be a saint as much as possible and asked.

“That’s my line. Even doing that, are you a priest? No, are you human? I’m really curious what you’d have to be possessed by to act like you.”

Solaith dragged the captured sinner to the edge of the plateau, to the cliff. Even while being dragged with limbs hanging limply, Raoul didn’t forget to spew pain-mixed curses. Each time he opened his mouth, lies mixed with blood and saliva slid down below his chin.

His tenacity is outstanding. Is that the secret to passing the ordination exam?

With an unfunny soliloquy, Solaith held the man out over the cliff edge. With only the back collar of his cassock grabbed, if he let go for any reason, Raoul would fall straight down the cliff without filter.

“Do you have any last words?”

Solaith asked. Not as a saint, not as a prince, but as one human being. Of course, he had no intention of sparing him.

“…Kugh. Your Holiness. Respected, cough. Your Holiness.”

“You respect me?”

“Please, don’t fall for that bewitching b*tch. I have no sin except becoming a lowly servant for Your Holiness and the temple… Please come to your senses and show mercy!”

“Anyone watching would think it’s real. If you push through like that, you must think at some point I’ll think ‘Ah, I was mistaken’ and let it go. I wonder if the world is ridiculous. I’ll admire your tenacity at least.”

Solaith, facing the stubbornness and pride peculiar to isolated people, and the malice trying to somehow cover the sky with repeated lies all at once, was chilled to the bone. Contemplation of how vile a person could become left him with a desolate impression.

He’d thought his heart might waver if Raoul apologized to Lev, though she wasn’t even here. But the priest didn’t give even a meager opportunity for a gap. Perhaps it was for the best.

Solaith loosened his grip holding him. He had no great regrets. It was just adding a bit more foreign matter to hands already dirtied during the Guardian War.

Soon came the sound of a heavy lump of flesh meeting rock. The rock stumps jutting from the steep cliff were very far—not a height where heaven’s mercy could possibly reach.

Everything according to God’s will.

Though it had been long since he stopped believing in the Holy Spirit, Solaith said it to gain light comfort. He turned around leisurely. And headed toward where Lev was.

* * *

The basement space of the dormitory.

The basement floor that Lev, who had considerable seniority, volunteered to use, smelled of musty mold. She’d given up the comfortable upper floor rooms so the choir children could live comfortably.

Solaith lowered the cape covering his head in front of Lev’s door. Then her scent seeped into his nose from her unopened doorway.

He quietly opened the door. Then the woman lost in dreamland appeared from far away.

Soft breathing. Sounds only children would make grew closer with each step. Her breathing, more peaceful than a lullaby, was so cozy he wanted to kneel and fall into it right away. The sweet scent from her breath filled the room, making him happy with each breath.

Solaith killed his footsteps and slowly approached her. Then beneath the gentle moonlight breaking through the curtains, Lev was revealed.

Her tightly closed eyes were as serene as those of a resting angel statue. Her slightly parted lips were plump and lovely like a cherry split in half. Below that, her white neckline and beautiful body were exposed, but he didn’t try to look.

Come to think of it, the night air might still be chilly. The man gently pulled up the wool blanket that had slipped down to around her belly. With careful hand movements, he covered her up to her neck and pressed firmly around the edges so wind wouldn’t get in, worried she might catch a cold.

Solaith moved his gaze back to her face.

‘I should wake her now.’

He wanted to keep watching Lev’s face, which only showed innocence when in dreamland.

‘Your Holiness, we don’t have many opportunities to meet, so if I fall asleep first late at night, please wake me.’

The words asking him to come wake her anytime he wanted to see her couldn’t help but be sweet. But he couldn’t do it. When her sleeping appearance was this lovely…