Even though his voice was not loud, it carried all the way to Liana.

She froze in place, startled, and Eclace quickly stepped in.

“I asked her to leave, since this isn’t a place for maids. Besides, with the distinguished Deputy High Priestess Giselle here, shouldn’t the staff be busy attending to their duties?”

Eclace smiled pleasantly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Shed saw his crimson gaze flick briefly to the deputy high priestess at his side—a silent reminder to behave with propriety, especially in front of his fiancée.

At that, Shed pressed his lower lip between his teeth, then released it.

Since that day, he hadn’t seen Liana.

Night after night, he’d been haunted by nightmares, but he couldn’t bring himself to go to her. He couldn’t call her to his side. The memory of that damned, animalistic dawn clung to him, trapping him.

So instead, he asked after her every day.

It was anxiety that drove him. He was afraid she might vanish, just as she had before. Afraid she might disappear in an instant, as she did in his nightmares.

His relentless questioning made the head butler, Werner, report Liana’s daily activities to him—morning, noon, and night.

He knew he must look like a madman, but it was the only way to shake off those nightmares.

And yet, for all his curiosity, he found himself at a loss for words under Eclace’s pointed gaze. He had no idea what he was supposed to say to her.

He’d called out to her without thinking, but now—what was there to say? He ran through a thousand words in his head, but none of them could cross the distance between them.

It was as if every path leading to Liana Serpens had been blocked off.

And so, all he could do was stand there, cut off, unable to reach her.

“Lord Lester, it’s been a long time since you last saw your fiancée, Deputy High Priestess Giselle Marlhein. Don’t you have a great deal to discuss?”

Eclace looked between Shed and the woman at his side. In that moment, Liana slipped away down the corridor, almost as if fleeing.

Shed’s eyes followed her until she disappeared around the corner.

Eclace gave a gentle smile to the two left behind.

🌺⟡───⟡🌺 🌺⟡───⟡🌺

Back in her room, Giselle found her thoughts drifting to Shed Lester.

She had never once been overshadowed by anyone before.

Everyone listened when she spoke—some even went so far as to fawn over her.

And yet her hulking fiancé was as immovable as a stone, utterly unmoved by her every advance.

It irritated her to no end—but she could understand it, at least in part.

If he hadn’t been so unyielding, a mere beast could never have clawed his way up to the rank of duke.

There was nothing of that dull, refined scent that came from those born to the upper class. Instead, he had the wild air of a man who’d clawed his way up from the bottom. And yet, somehow, he still bore the bearing of a ruler.

Shed Lester was never boring, never predictable, never simple.

Unlike those men who’d fawned and sent her love letters—meek and deferential—he was always bold. For someone from Lupus, that attitude caught her eye. She liked it.

A man who could stand beside Giselle Marlhein needed that kind of audacity, didn’t he?

She, the woman everyone envied, loved that about her fiancé. And at the same time, she hated it.

Even Giselle had to admit her own tastes were rather twisted.

She’d never once chosen her fiancé out of a desire for a peaceful home or sweet, romantic love. She’d knowingly chosen the difficult path—and she was prepared to handle it. After all, she was Giselle Marlhein. But her fiancé turned out to be even less easy than she had anticipated.

Giselle pressed her fingers to her brow, sighing. He’d always been insufferable, but today he was especially aggravating.

‘Something’s different…’

She thought back to their reunion after so long. He’d seemed as brusque as ever, but there was something else—something changed in the air around him. He’d always been indifferent, but now…

‘It felt like he was pushing me away.’

She could feel just how much he disliked her presence.

Up until now, he’d always acted like he didn’t care one way or another—letting her do as she pleased. Whether she linked arms with him in public, dragged him to balls, or even hugged him in front of others, he’d endured it all. Being in his arms was always like hugging a stone, but at least he’d never outright pulled away.

That’s why she’d expected him to respond just as indifferently to her proposal for marriage—she thought he’d just go along with whatever she wanted, letting her take the lead as always.

But today, there had been a sharp discomfort in his gaze. A clear unwillingness, as if he couldn’t stand even the thought of touching her.

Why? What changed?

If she had to pinpoint a reason, there was only one possibility.

‘That woman.’

The maid Shed Lester had called out to—a woman with chestnut-brown hair, porcelain skin, and a slender frame. Even from afar, she was striking: neat, pure, beautiful.

‘Shed Lester, calling after a woman?’

Giselle knew better than anyone just how indifferent her fiancé was to women. But with that one, he was different.

That look in his eyes, that way of speaking.

She’d seen it—the way his stone-cold, impenetrable expression had crumbled in an instant beneath a tidal wave of emotion.

‘Hah… I always thought he was just blunt. I never realized he was such a fool.’

Giselle murmured, idly swirling the wine glass between her fingers.

Just then—knock, knock—a gentle rapping at the door interrupted her.

“Deputy High Priestess, I’ve brought what you asked for.”

It was her maid, Justin.

“Come in.”

Giselle replied, setting her wine glass down and adopting her warmest, kindest tone. She straightened her posture, and Justin entered with a respectful bow.

“You must be exhausted. I’m sorry for making you run errands as soon as you arrived.”

Giselle said, smoothing away the trace of irritation from her face, replacing it with a look of gentle concern.

“Not at all, Deputy High Priestess. Serving you is my greatest joy.”

“May the grace of God always be upon you, Justin.”

Giselle said in thanks, offering a blessing. Justin’s face brightened at once.

“So, what about that woman?”

“Well, as soon as I asked about the maid you mentioned, everyone was eager to talk.”

Justin replied, and recounted what she’d learned from the Lester household staff.

“Her name is Liana Serpens, and not long ago, Lord Lester personally brought her here from the Godwin family.”

“Personally?”

“It seems he’s rather fond of her.”

Justin relayed everything she’d heard, including how lately, Shed Lester asked about the maid’s whereabouts every single day.

‘Ah…!’

Giselle barely managed to swallow a curse, pressing her lips together in silent prayer instead.

‘That block of stone, Shed Lester, starting to care about a woman? And over a maid, of all people?’

Giselle barely kept her expression from twisting.

“…Thank you, Justin. That’s all.”

“…Are you all right, Deputy High Priestess?”

Justin, worried after delivering the news that her mistress’s fiancé might be infatuated with another woman, watched Giselle closely.

“Justin, do I look like someone who’d be shaken by a man like that?”

“N-no! Of course not!”

“Right? Don’t worry.”

Giselle gave her a flawless, radiant smile. Reassured, the maid nodded.

“Then please rest well, Deputy High Priestess Giselle. May God be with you.”

“Yes. May God be with you as well.”

🌺⟡───⟡🌺 🌺⟡───⟡🌺

The man wiped the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth with his forearm.

‘Hah, if I were that girl, I wouldn’t waste this much time just to regenerate an arm.’

He muttered as he flexed the arm he’d once lost.

It had taken some time, but the arm severed by the swordmaster’s blade had completely regenerated.

The heretic climbed over the corpses littering the ground and made his way to higher ground. In the distance, the walls of Faradel Castle came into view. Against the night sky, the barrier shimmered faintly, an aurora of holy protection.

The sight of it made his teeth grind with frustration.

‘D*mn! that barrier is no joke.”

It was tight, flawless, perfectly constructed—a far cry from something he could break through with this incomplete body. And inside that barrier was the swordmaster strong enough to take his arm.

‘Not to mention, the priests have swarmed in like dogs…’

At first, only a few had shown up, but yesterday reinforcements arrived—another new priest had joined the ranks. He hadn’t gotten a good look, but he was certain one more deputy high priestess had been added to the mix.

The divine power radiating from her was overwhelming, like nothing he’d ever felt. Facing someone like that head-on would almost certainly mean defeat.

He needed a clever plan.

For now, he hunted the people outside Faradel—humans, whose bodies he used as sacrifices. It took more victims than usual to stop his body and mind from collapsing and to fully regenerate his arm.

‘I need to get stronger.’

But how?

His damned creator was dead—injecting black magic into his body but never finishing the ritual that would complete it.

Now he had to find a way to perfect his own body, but it was impossible to continue a long-lost black magic ritual alone. Eight years ago, the priests who came here burned every document related to it.

‘How long does that foolish girl plan to stay in there?’

He bit down on his bloodstained lips as he looked at Faradel.

He could never understand Luise Ideana.

There were already half a dozen priests holed up in Faradel, not to mention the formidable deputy high priestesses and the swordmaster. Even she would have a hard time getting out alive if she were discovered.

‘Even if she’s the finished product, it would be almost impossible for her to take them all on by herself. Does she not care because she can’t die?’

He licked his lips with a blood-red tongue, twisting his mouth into a disgusting grin.

‘If only that girl would take my side, everything would be so simple.’

To an outside observer, the two of them appeared to be on the same team: one wielding the power of heresy, and the other hunting it down. He was the only person in the world who could truly understand her joy and her suffering. Together, they could easily conquer this empire.

But that foolish woman had chosen the worst possible side.

‘I can’t just let them do as they please… Should I lure them out, one by one, and rip out their throats?’

He rolled his eyes, deep in thought.

That’s when—

“Rip out their throats? How terrifying…”

A stranger’s voice suddenly interrupted him from behind.

Startled, the heretic whirled around.

“Who’s there?!”

He quickly scanned his cold, shadowy surroundings.

Just then, a strange figure stepped out from behind a rock.

“Long time no see, half-blood.”

The heretic—called ‘half-blood’—felt his eyes widen in shock.