His head swam. He had believed that Ideana had killed them all. Yet here stood his brother, alive before his very eyes and transformed into an apostate.

‘Then what was it I’ve been raging against all this time?’

Shed pressed a hand to his throbbing temple. A sharp ringing pierced his ears.

‘Luise… did you already know this truth?’

Her face rose in his mind. She had never been honest with him. It was as if every truth was locked away deep inside her tiny frame, hidden from view. Even after coughing up blood and crying all night, she would smile and insist that she was fine.

After they met again, nothing had changed. She always seemed to be hiding something; as though she wanted to run away; as though she was afraid of something. At first, he thought it was only because of Ideana’s betrayal. But looking back now, her behavior no longer made sense. It felt as though the most vital piece was missing from every event involving her.

‘What are you hiding from me?’

As his thoughts spiralled, Pamen gasped with pain and suddenly drove a black blade into his abdomen. He staggered violently, his body lurching. Despite having his heart pierced, Pamen rose again like a revenant, pulling the sword from his chest. Scarlet blood spattered as he let out a beastly, inhuman sound.

Shed stood frozen before the monster that wore her brother’s face. On Pamen’s blood-soaked chest, he saw something achingly familiar: a mark he knew well. The shape of a black crescent moon.

“My lord!”

“Lord Lester!”

New voices echoed through the cavern. From afar, a glow of torchlight flickered closer.

Pamen turned his blood-drenched face toward them.

“Khahk—ghhk…!”

Clutching his bleeding chest, he stumbled and began to flee deeper into the cave.

Shed moved instinctively to chase him. But the moment he took a step, his body lurched forward and he collapsed to the ground. The wound that Pamen had inflicted burned as though it were on fire.

“My lord…!”

Carlisle’s voice echoed faintly in his ears, muffled and distant.

‘No. I have to follow Pamen. I can’t lose him here. I need answers—how he came to be this way…’

He tried desperately to lift himself up, but his body refused to obey him. The wound where Pamen had hit him was turning black and spreading outwards. This was no ordinary injury.

“This… this is a curse!”

One of the priests who had followed examined the wound, his face paling. Black energy was burrowing into Shed’s organs.

“See to Lord Lester’s treatment. I’ll pursue the apostate!”

Dietrich handed Shed over to a priest and dashed after the fleeing heretic.

‘No… he can’t be killed. There’s too much I still have to hear…’

Shed braced against the ground, forcing himself up, but blood gushed hot from the cursed wound.

“Lord Lester, you must remain still! If you move, the curse will spread further and your life will be in danger!”

The priest pressed his divine power into the wound, sealing it as well as he could. But this injury was nothing like the one that had wounded Liana. This one was deliberate — a curse woven into the blade itself.

The moment the divine power touched it, an unspeakable pain tore through him. His veins bulged darkly across his neck as though they were about to burst.

It was the helplessness, rather than the pain, that made him tremble with fury. At the most crucial moment, he was unable to act. Even as the priest tried to control it, the curse burrowed deeper inside him. Blackened veins spread across his skin like a plague.

“Lord Lester…! The curse, it’s—!”

‘D*mn it…’

Through the haze of his fading consciousness, fragments of his past flickered—Pamen, and Luise. Everything that had shaped his present.

🌺⟡───⟡🌺 🌺⟡───⟡🌺

“Lord Lester was struck by the apostate?”

Eclace frowned as the birds brought him word.

“Yes. They say he’s fallen into a coma, unable to wake.”

Eclace pressed two fingers hard against his temple and exhaled a long sigh.

“High Priestess Giselle is struggling to break the curse, but it seems black magic runs deeper than expected. Even for her, she likely has no direct experience with lifting such a spell.”

According to the report, the wound left by the apostate’s blade was spreading black energy through Shed’s body, covering him entirely. His veins had darkened, twisting his flesh into something monstrous.

“They say an ordinary man would already be dead. As for Lord Lester—how much longer he can endure, no one can say.”

The curse the apostate had left was dire indeed.

Even so, the beast-like Shed Lester clung stubbornly to life. Even in unconsciousness, he endured the curse—at least for now.

“…We should prepare for the worst on our side as well.”

Eclace murmured absently, running a finger along the desk. ‘If a figure as formidable as Shed Lester were to die, the markets would certainly feel the impact.’ The ventures they had undertaken together would suffer as well. His head throbbed.

“And the apostate?”

Eclace asked, turning to the next page of the report.

“High Priest Dietrich Lester dealt with him. The apostate was badly wounded in his battle with Lord Lester, so the priests were able to subdue him quickly. At the Grand Temple, it seems they intend to give the greater share of credit to High Priest Dietrich.”

His attendant, Bannern, delivered the detailed report from Faradel. Shed had apparently fought alone against the heretic for quite some time, even while cursed. But because it was Dietrich who delivered the final blow, the temple meant to twist the tale as though the victory had been theirs.

‘The dying are in no position to speak.’

Shed, lying confined to a sickbed, could not refute their sly maneuvering.

‘The temple bastards…’

While one man lay broken, having risked his life, they clawed at scraps of glory and profit.

Eclace, never particularly devout, found his dislike of them intensify. Despite all their talk of divine grace, mercy and judgement, they were ultimately no different to merchants like himself.

‘Petty profiteers…’

It would be better if they dropped the pretense of holiness altogether.

As Eclace studied the report, a knock sounded at the door.

“Lord Eclace.”

At the sound of the soft, clear voice, Eclace lifted his head from the papers. He signalled to Bannern, who quietly withdrew the document from view before closing it and leaving.

“Come in, Lady Lea.”

With his permission, Lea stepped inside as the door opened. Banner excused himself and left through the same doorway, leaving the two of them alone.

Eclace greeted her with his usual gentle smile, erasing all memory of the previous conversation. Lea cast a fleeting glance at the departing man before turning her gaze to Eclace.

After sailing for days from Faradel and changing ships more than once, they had finally reached the Vitel family’s domain: the Scizlon Isles. Citing the need for rest after their long journey, Eclace had secretly brought her into the Vitel estate itself.

“Did you rest well? You must be tired after so many days at sea.”

Eclace rose from behind his desk and gestured towards the seating area. She hesitated, then awkwardly perched on the edge of the sofa.

Her eyes wandered around the office of Count Vitel’s heir. She had once been a noblewoman herself and, as a maid, had tidied countless aristocratic rooms. But she had never seen a study so refined.

Its elegance was restrained, never gaudy.

This was not a luxury born of simply amassing expensive trinkets. Rather, it was a harmonious blend of form and function, designed for work, leisure, and entertaining guests. Every movement had been considered to ensure efficiency.

Every detail of the room had been crafted with precision. It was easy to see why Eclace set trends and sold so well. Anyone who visited this space would be compelled to trust his taste.

Offering her a small biscuit, Eclace finally spoke.

“Tomorrow, we’ll board another ship. That will take you to your final destination.”

Throughout their voyage, Eclace had gone to great lengths to cover her tracks. She had planted decoys disguised as Liana in various locations, ensuring that any pursuit would falter. Lester would never find her. Not now, at least. Not while he was lying unconscious and unable to try.

“Is it far from here?”

Lea asked carefully, unaware of Shed’s condition.

“No. Just three hours by sea. A small island called Janna.”

It was not far from civilization, yet the vast sea served as its natural shield. Hidden among the many islands of the Scizlon Archipelago, its geography made it almost impossible to discover. Towering islets veiled it from view, even to passing ships, and its calm winds made it a peaceful haven.

“Only I — and those I allow — know the location. Many of my retired ‘birds’ build their nests there. It’s a sort of paradise.”

The odds of stumbling across Janna by chance were nearly zero.

“There’s no need to flee halfway across the world to find paradise.”

He was a reliable ally. And yet Lea still could not understand why he had helped her. He said it was to repay an old debt, but could that really be the only reason? His crimson eyes gave nothing away.

She stared at him, and he raised an eyebrow gently in response.

“You look like you have something you want to say.”

The way he pierced straight through her thoughts made her chest tighten. Lea fidgeted with her hands before finally parting her lips.

“Have you… heard any news from Ideana?”

No sooner had she spoken than Eclace smiled, as though he had been waiting for her to ask.

“The heretic hunt was a success.”

“Ah…!”

Relief blossomed across her face. Since leaving Ideana, thoughts of the heretic had dominated her mind. After all, it was one of the sins her family had fled from. Success would mean safety — or at least, she hoped.

She wanted to ask about Shed, to know more. But before she could, Eclace spoke first, as if reading her thoughts.

“Lord Shed Lester played his part as well. Now that the heretic is gone, his focus will turn to rebuilding Ideana.”

Eclace smiled faintly—as though to say Shed Lester was safe.