Chapter 12.1 – Please Don’t Send Me Away

The Imperial seating on the second floor was filled with people. The Imperial Guard, arriving late, quickly restored order.

Downstairs, nobles who had sided with the Second Prince and men in black clothes were being dragged away by soldiers, among them Gilbert, whose body was tied up with rope. Later, Syria learned he had used magic stones to change his appearance. A few hours later, he returned to his original form.

The remaining nobles were leaving the banquet hall one by one after Gallion’s inspection. Syria scratched her cheek, wondering why everyone was staring at her.

“What… should I do with this?”

“Lady Syria, what is that?”

“That’s a black magic stone.”

As everyone wrinkled their noses as if seeing something filthy and asked, Miland provided the answer.

“Black magic stone?”

Even Karl, who had never heard of it, reached out but was blocked by Miland’s hand.

“That stone contains the power to perform black sorcery. If you touch it carelessly, you’ll lose your mind and eventually die.”

“…Black sorcery?”

Recalling the Empress who lost her life after being accused of using black sorcery, Karl spoke with anger.

“The Second Prince survived until now using that, and threatened my daughter’s life.”

“Did you really get threatened by something like that?”

At this confession-like statement, Syria frowned and asked again. How could something like this allow someone to control people as if they were puppets?

“It’s hard to believe… that you believed it,Your Grace…”

Even Firenze, who had served Miland closely, stammered at the new revelation.

“I didn’t believe it at first. But when I saw Syria collapse and stop breathing before my eyes, I had no choice.”

Miland recalled the moment two months ago when his vision went black. Jacob had come to him in the middle of the night.

‘Your Grace, since you refuse our offer, we must show proof. The beloved daughter you cherish has already stopped breathing. Heh heh.’

He rushed to Syria’s room, but found his daughter lying on the bed, not breathing. Pale face, cold skin without any warmth. Anyone could see she was no longer of this world.

He immediately followed Jacob to meet the Second Prince, and they promised to return his daughter’s life if he agreed to help.

The next day, after sending someone to check, he was told Syria had woken up and appeared at the mansion as usual. From then on, he had no choice but to do whatever they demanded, like a puppet.

“So that’s why you suddenly left alone, Your Grace.”

Firenze nodded, as if finally understanding.

“But… is it really okay for her to keep holding that?”

“You said it was dangerous, didn’t you?”

“…That’s strange.”

Miland, unable to understand, looked at Syria with a worried expression. With four pairs of eyes on her, Syria awkwardly lowered her hand. Their suspicious looks were as if they were seeing something strange.

‘Maybe… because I’m not from this world, it doesn’t affect me?’

According to them, the stone’s power should affect anyone who touches it. But she felt nothing. If this thing gave everyone else a terrible reaction, but none to her, there was only one difference.

‘…I’ll just pretend I don’t know.’

Syria smiled awkwardly and raised her hand again. Rubbing the stones together like flint, she watched as black smoke drifted out, giving off an eerie feeling.

“So… what should I do with this?”

It looked like tonight would be a sleepless one.

* * *

For a while, no one could go home, and after much discussion, they reached a decision. It was Gallion’s idea, the Emperor’s clever aide, and Alpen, with the sharpest mind, agreed.

They would hand the black magic stone over to the temple—to the priest serving Grandios, the one true God of this world, worshipped by all the Empire’s people—and have it sealed.

‘The temple doesn’t really appeal to me.’

Maybe because it was a sacred place, Syria didn’t feel comfortable. But leaving the stone anywhere felt wrong, so even though it was late, they headed straight to the temple.

Gallion and the Emperor stayed behind to judge the remaining criminals, and Alpen, as Chancellor, had matters to handle, so only Syria, Miland, and Firenze went to the temple.

Worried about possible attacks from remaining enemies, the Duchy’s knights escorted them. Not that it mattered much with the Duke and Firenze present.

Perhaps because they’d sent word ahead, the temple let them in without question. Since Karl took the throne, the temple’s influence had waned, and it had become a quiet group, serving as a spiritual support for the devout people of the Empire, far from the center of power.

Even late at night, the pure white building glowed with a reverent atmosphere, lit by mana lights on either side of the entrance path.

“Welcome. I am Isaac, the priest in charge here. Please, come this way.”

Through the priests, a young man with snow-white hair and a neatly worn white priest’s robe stepped forward. His entire body, except for his black eyes, was wrapped in spotless white.

With a bright aura, the man guided them inside. His firm lower body stood out even through the robe, enough to make one want to whistle.

‘For a priest, he’s got quite the figure.’

Syria’s eyes sparkled at the impressive sight. In contrast, Isaac’s face darkened as he heard the reason for their visit and the story of the ominous black magic stone.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

At Duke Dronia’s words, Isaac shook his head and replied,

“No, it’s all as the God has foreseen. Let’s go inside and take a closer look.”

Inside, they entered a spacious hall with marble columns on either side. At the front, a large ivory podium stood, apparently used for sermons.

Now that Isaac nodded, indicating he was ready, Syria took out the two stones wrapped in her handkerchief and placed them on the round table. As expected, Isaac seemed to recognize their true nature immediately and let out a sigh.

“It’s true. These are black magic stones. I’ve only ever seen them in the temple’s ancient texts. Strictly speaking, they contain the power to perform what’s called black sorcery.”

Isaac corrected the terminology and carefully examined the stones. Knowing it was dangerous to touch them, he only looked closely with his eyes.

“I heard these disappeared centuries ago, so it’s amazing they still exist.”

“Those who deal in the dark are always persistent.”

Grave robbers, crazed for money, would recklessly dig in dangerous areas if they thought there was profit, not even checking if it was safe, and then sell what they found. That’s probably how the Second Prince got his hands on it.

“Interesting. Why is it that Lady Syria is completely unaffected by them…?”

Isaac glanced at Syria, who had taken out the black magic stones without gloves, then turned his gaze back to the stones.

‘Ah… This is uncomfortable.’

Everyone stared at her with curiosity, as if wondering, ‘What’s with this girl?’ It was so uncomfortable she wanted to die. She just shrugged her shoulders, raising both hands as if to say she didn’t know either.

“Hmm… We’ll need to seal these in the temple’s basement. Such dangerous objects must never be released into the world.”

“Can’t you just break them?”

They looked like they’d shatter if thrown carelessly, so she didn’t understand why it had to be complicated. Her simple suggestion was quickly shut down by Isaac’s frown.

“If you did that, the evil energy would contaminate the entire surrounding area.”

Ah… That must be why the Second Prince couldn’t fight back and looked so anxious.

‘Why is everything so complicated?’

She’d seen magical items for the first time since coming to this world, but to someone with only brief romance fantasy knowledge, it was all difficult to grasp. Syria just thought she’d leave it to the temple and be done with it.

“Lady Syria, you’ll need to come down to the basement with me.”

“Me?”

“As you can see, I can’t touch them myself.”

The high priest, looking embarrassed, brushed his hair. Even he, with clear divine power, said it was too dangerous and asked her to come with him.

“Alright.”

“Everyone else, please wait here for a moment.”

“Understood.”

“Alright.”

Not just one, but the entire knight order was standing guard outside, and perhaps because of the temple’s special nature, the Duke and Deputy Commander agreed without protest.

“I’ll be back soon.”

“Daughter, be careful.”

A large, rough hand awkwardly fell on her head, making Syria smile wryly.

“Don’t worry.”

The Duke was gradually learning how to be affectionate.