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“Oh, this is dangerous…”

The girl, hiding her face beneath a hood, sighed softly as she watched the boy in front of her.

The dark aura radiating from Damian swept through the space like a small storm.

Shards from the broken bookshelf and scattered books were flung around by the aura, but the reason people were not drawn here was because the barrier she had set up beforehand completely blocked external perception.

But even that was reaching its limits.

The aura emanating from Damian showed no sign of diminishing, a testament to the dragon’s blessing that Kraus had obtained a thousand years ago after slaying the serpent.

Even now, she could feel the storm gnawing away at the barrier. Despite possessing a magical power incomparably greater than that of a human, there were limits to the amount of power she could utilize while maintaining her human form.

Even if she could keep the barrier intact, if her true form were revealed, the lord of this city would surely notice.

“So annoying…”

She sighed and started waving her hands to disperse the storm of aura blocking her path. Normally, a mere touch would cause any ordinary aura to dissipate into the air, but the black storm swirling around her merely intensified rather than scattered.

A familiar pain pricked at her fingertips, causing her expression to slightly distort.

Why on earth was she enduring such hardship? She had merely descended from the mountains after a long time to see what humans were up to.

Yet here she was, humiliated due to a single wrong encounter, and her insides were boiling with indignation.

Of course, she knew the root cause of this wasn’t the boy in front of her, but it was inescapable to feel anger at the disruption of her peaceful leisurely life that had finally returned after hundreds of years.

She felt an urge to just smack the back of Damian’s head and knock him unconscious, but no matter how angry she was, she wasn’t the type to vent her frustrations on an innocent person.

The foreboding sensation she had felt just moments ago was something she couldn’t easily dismiss either. Thus, calming the boy before her and figuring out the source would be the right course of action.

Before she knew it, the distance between her and Damian had closed to a point where she could reach out and touch him.

As they became closer, sensations she hadn’t noticed before began to wash over her. Seeing Damian, with his eyes transformed into those of a dragon, gaze blankly at the void made her involuntarily tense up.

His eyes, which merely resembled those of a dragon, now seemed to carry a sort of madness, akin to what she had seen in the previous serpent. It wasn’t just his eyes that had changed. The instinctual aversion brought by the deed of dragon-slaying, which she could have brushed off just moments ago, now felt like a knife pushing into her throat, akin to the dragon’s blood itself.

But that was all there was to it.

It lacked the weight to be called fear. The sharp dagger that threatened her was dull. It was simply a fragment of Damian’s anxiety brushing past her; his blade was not pointed at her.

The storm that had been wreaking havoc around them began to calm, as if to indicate that he was regaining his composure.

If I’d known this would happen, I should have waited a bit before approaching, she thought, grumbling slightly as she shook her numbed hand and looked up at Damian. However, just as she was about to speak to him, Damian coincidentally opened his mouth first.

“Teia.”

Her eyes widened at the name that slipped from Damian’s lips.

Teia.

It wasn’t an uncommon name.

Especially in this place, Merohim, it was likely there were many with the name Teia. In the past, the fierce northerly winds blowing through Merohim were referred to as the winds of God, and the deity causing those winds was known as Teia.

Aside from the Divine Lord Altair, it was common to name after other gods, yet Damian called her Teia.

He knew her true identity as a dragon.

“How do you…”

She looked at Damian with bewilderment. Up until now, she had never revealed her name to him during their conversations. No, even if she had, she doubted he would have spoken that name out loud.

Suddenly being called by her true name left her flustered, yet Damian regarded her with the same unwavering gaze and said,

“Teia. You should be able to trace the remnants of power left here. Please, take me to the source of that power.”

“Wait, what! First, explain the name! About the name!!”

“I don’t have time. I’ll explain after it’s over. Hurry.”

Damian’s resolute response left Teia no choice but to relent.

While she felt slightly upset that a young boy was commanding her, she understood what was more important in the moment.

A small magic circle began to form in her palm. Soon, the mana that comprised the magic circle entwined and morphed into the shape of a small butterfly.

The white butterfly that burst from the magic circle fluttered for a moment in the air before passing over a spot, only to turn pitch black. It began flying in a direction as if it had found something, but not long after, it could no longer fly, vanishing in a puff.

Damian glanced back at her, worried that something had gone wrong, but Teia breathed a sigh of relief at the disappearing butterfly.

“Thank goodness. It looks like the source of power has been extinguished.”

“…?”

“Literally. It means that whatever left this strange residue here has vanished from the world. We’ve spared ourselves the trouble of searching.”

She wasn’t quite sure what had happened, but the result indicated that nothing would happen to them. The causality seemed unclear, akin to something being abruptly cut off. Yet perhaps due to her optimistic dragon nature, Teia shrugged it off as inconsequential.

Well, as long as the results were good, right?

If she could just ask this boy in front of her how he knew her true name, she would feel pleased to return to the mountains.

However, unlike Teia, Damian’s expression remained grave.

It made sense—what was important to him was not the source of this ominous sensation, but rather the whereabouts of Elena, who was currently absent from his sight. The lead he thought he had turned out to be meaningless, blinding him in darkness.

“Damian?”

A lovely voice reached his ears.

He turned to the sound and found her there—Elena, the very girl he had been searching for, stood there, looking dazed at the chaotic surroundings.

“…What on earth happened? Why are the bookshelves all broken like this—”

“Elena!”

Dazed, Elena scanned the wreckage and asked Damian what had happened, but her voice was drowned out by his exclamation as he rushed toward her.

*

On a table shrouded in darkness lay seven candlesticks, just like the number of Cardinals existing within the church.

The flames of the candlesticks, while definitely light, appeared like shadows burning in the dark and seemed not to help illuminate the surroundings at all.

It was a place with no breeze, yet at some point, the flame attached to the thickest candlestick began to flicker precariously, as though caught in a strong wind.

Just moments after one flame had gone out, another snapped, and seeing this, those watching the candles from the darkness grew anxious.

“This is…”

As they had feared, the flame that looked on the verge of extinguishing gradually diminished.

In just a day, two Cardinals, who could be considered the most crucial power of the church, had lost their lives.

Those remaining could not grasp why those who had gone to welcome the being that had descended upon this land had lost their breaths, but they unequivocally felt the immense emotion of something vast stirring their minds with each extinguished flame.

There existed only one being in the world that could wield such influence over them. Despite smiling at the candles fading one by one, they felt terror at the sight of themselves being swayed by this colossal emotion.

Why does God express joy instead of sorrow at the death of His servants?

The incomprehensible will of the deity was enough to sow confusion among them. Their heads filled with astonishment and questions, yet an undesired emotion of joy lingered on their faces. The feeling of losing their free will naturally accompanied their terror.

Amidst the confusion of all gathered Cardinals, there was one who genuinely resonated with that emotion—the Archbishop Pelian, who was regarded as closest to the divine.

She seemed entirely unfazed, looking at the two snuffed-out candles without a hint of emotion. Instead, she sincerely rejoiced in the feelings flowing into her head, smiling like a child who received a great gift.

Unable to hold himself back any longer, one Cardinal shouted with a voice full of discontent towards her.

“What on earth are you doing, Archbishop! Do you even realize the situation we’re in to be smiling like that?!”

With his words reverberating in the space, Pelian ceased her laughter and turned her gaze to the Cardinal who called out to her, wearing a face that seemed to question why he would utter such a thing.

“Cardinal Belot, you are the one speaking strangely. Our God is pleased; how can you ask me to hold back my joy?”

“Two of our comrades who went to greet Him have perished! And yet, rather than sorrow, God seems to find joy in it. Don’t you think something is amiss?”

Several Cardinals, who had been silently seated, unconsciously nodded at his piercing words. Yet, despite his assertions, Pelian continued to regard him with incomprehension. Rather, she seemed angered at his remarks, as dark holy energy began to surge around her.

“How foolish. Belot Faiman.”

Her ruby-red eyes shimmered ominously in the dark.

Though her voice was soft and delicate, it contained an undeniable power that demanded obedience.

As Belot met her blood-red gaze, he felt an excruciating pain in his head as if it were about to burst.

“How dare you impose your personal views on the will of God. To think a Cardinal would commit such blasphemy.”

“That… that’s not what I meant…”

As Belot, his face distorted in agony, struggled to speak, the other Cardinals fell silent. The sight seemed to please Pelian, who grinned at them.

“Everyone, cast aside your unnecessary thoughts. It is a pity that Cardinals Paula and Ieolon have lost their lives, but surely Our God has descended upon this land, and they have surely gone to join Him.”

Pelian showed no hint of sorrow, instead appearing joyous, and barring Belot, the rest of the Cardinals hurriedly nodded in agreement.

As Pelian stood up and declared the end of the gathering, they began to leave without looking back.

Belot, clutching his throbbing head, attempted to escape this terrifying place, but a voice calling his name stopped him in his tracks.

“Cardinal Belot.”

“Y-yes, Archbishop…”

Belot wanted to plead with her to free him from this torment, but his fear of her rendered him silent.

As if reading his mind, Pelian gently placed her hand on his head and reclaimed the pain she had given him.

His head felt clear and refreshed, and he gazed at Pelian with wide eyes filled with astonishment. Pelian turned a benevolent smile toward him, speaking in a voice softer than before.

“It’s simply that I have a request to ask of you, Cardinal Belot.”

“Ah, yes! Please command me.”

Belot promptly knelt before her.

Unlike a noble knight, he resembled a well-trained dog, yet he felt no shame in his behavior. This was the norm. His previous behavior had been a mistake brought on by the unknown terror and fear that had clouded his reason.

Fortunately, her mood seemed quite pleasant due to the divine descent.

If not, she wouldn’t have taken back the pain she had inflicted upon him. He knelt obediently, awaiting Pelian to speak.

“I have an offering I wish to present to God, and you are in possession of it. Would you grant it to me?”

“What are you referring to…?”

In that moment, Belot glanced up at her hand resting on his head.

He quickly shook his head and tried to speak, but his body, no longer under his control, collapsed to the ground.

A candle on the table extinguished.

With expectant eyes, Pelian watched the snuffed candle, yet since no emotion echoed from it like before, she lost interest and discarded Belot’s head towards some corner of the gathering hall.

“It seems He does not desire the lives of the Cardinals after all.”

For the first time, a hint of regret crossed her eyes.

She was left wondering if perhaps the implication was to sacrifice the Cardinals. Ultimately, she chided herself for trying to judge the divine will with her standards and looked at the necklace hanging around her neck.

The necklace bore a black gemstone, like the sacred relic given to Paula, adorned with a symbol representing the church. Holding this, Pelian felt relieved that the sacred item she had given Paula had made it safely to God.

At some point, she began to perceive warm fragments of feelings emanating from the sacred object.

This warm sensation—which the other Cardinals didn’t feel—seemed to be directed solely at her, filling Pelian with deep emotion.

For a long while, she couldn’t take her eyes off the necklace before finally tucking it back within her clothes. However, in that moment, light began to shine forth from the black gemstone embedded in her necklace.

Ever since Ieolon’s flame had gone out, the feelings transmitted through the necklace had been calm, but now they surged with an intensity unlike anything prior.

She quickly grasped that this was a sensation difficult for her to comprehend, yet Pelian did not bother straining to understand it.

She regarded it as merely another manifestation of God’s will, holding the warm necklace close to her heart, closed her eyes, and offered a prayer.

“Yes, in due time, the God will reveal Himself again.”

She wouldn’t think about why He wasn’t coming to them right now. Surely, He had His reasons.

With that, Pelian steeled her resolve and left the gathering hall, now devoid of company.

*

“Elena!! Are you hurt anywhere?!”

“Yes? Yes…”

Elena felt her face flush as Damian’s face drew near, along with his warm breath.

Perhaps it was due to the unusual atmosphere.

Having only seen his usual round visage since his return, the sharpness of his gaze penetrating her felt as if it could pierce through her heart.

“D-Damian!! W-wait! You’re too close…”

Above all, what made Elena’s head hot was the diminishing distance between them.

It was difficult to believe that this was the same Damian who had once been too shy to face her even during their dances, now approaching her without hesitation.

While it was fine to initiate closeness herself, she had no resistance to the prospect of Damian coming closer.

As if mirroring Elena’s feelings, a warm breeze began to sway around her once more.

 

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