Where The Angel’s Blood Went (1)

“Shamefully, I have taken the form of an angel, but I am not a complete angel. My true nature is a top-class secret even within the Rescue Knights Order, so I was never supposed to reveal it, but….”

“Better to show yourself than be taken. Don’t overthink the fact you exposed yourself in front of Fireglyph’s countless citizens. It was force majeure.”

Azadine said that with shameless ease.

“Ah, I meant I was worried about whether it was acceptable to reveal the secret to you, Sir Azadine. But you’re right. The citizens of Fireglyph already found out.”

“Yeah. So it’s that big a secret, huh? But if the enemy predicted your power and brought even this kind of gear, they already knew. Is that secret really safe? Don’t tell me the whole Hubris Continent knows it.”

Azadine pulled out the Shadowsteel chain. Besides that, he rummaged through the kobold mage’s baggage and neatly pocketed magic talismans, a staff, and even the money.

“The enemy approached us using a murder case inside the fortress as a pretext. There was also a doppelganger. And the Northern Aragasa too. Ah—speaking of which, what happened to them?”

When Izmilla asked, everyone looked to Azadine. Azadine only shrugged.

“They ran.”

‘He let them go.’

That was what everyone thought, but no one pressed the issue. Or rather, it was only normal that they could not.

Those who knew how terrifying Azadine’s skill was had no desire to provoke him over something minor.

Only Izmilla looked flustered.

“Pardon? They took my sword. It’s a ceramite longsword. I can’t lose it.”

“Luckily, I got your sword back. Wait a moment.”

Azadine said that, then dusted off his hands. A heartbeat later, Izmilla’s ceramite longsword thudded down from the sky.

“Huh?”

“…….”

Bernard let out a dry laugh at the sight.

Jan—hiding nearby—had thrown Izmilla’s ceramite longsword on Azadine’s orders.

“What did you do?”

“My magic. Here.”

“Magic? This?”

“It’s imperial magic. You wouldn’t know. Don’t ask for details. Classified.”

Azadine waved it off, but Izmilla truly believed him.

This was the second time Azadine had appeared in her crisis and saved her. To doubt him now would be nothing but ingratitude, so Izmilla made a firm decision to trust him completely.

‘Mm. She’s staring a lot.’

Azadine felt awkward under Izmilla’s admiring gaze.

“Sir Azadine. You are truly an exemplar for knights. That outstanding martial might, insight, composure—yet also a steadfast will that loves justice and guards virtue.”

“No, it’s not—like, that much.”

Just moments ago, he had made some kind of arrangement with the Northern Aragasa and deceived her; this level of trust was… inconvenient.

But Izmilla took Azadine’s behavior as humility.

“Originally, the fact that I am a Celestial who received an angel’s blood—and this angelic form itself—were all Order secrets. But, Sir Azadine. I believe I can trust you. In that case, I will share one more secret.”

“Another secret?”

“Healing magic.”

“Healing magic?”

“Yes.”

Izmilla said that and used a spell on Kuntachi, whose injuries were the worst among them.

A soft circle of light wrapped around Kuntachi, and his wounds began to close.

‘Miracle-type healing magic! That’s supposed to be something only a king can use.’

In the King’s Church, healing magic that only a king was allowed to use—Izmilla cast it as if it were nothing.

There were many kinds of restorative magic. The lowest was blood-magic healing, next came green-mana healing, and the highest healing magic was miracle-type healing.

Even God-Kings used their own blood as a catalyst when casting healing magic, so apart from mana, blood loss limited how often they could use it.

But Izmilla could freely use miracle-type healing magic without any noticeable cost.

“Even if I can only use it while transformed as a Celestial, I can cast this much without burden. That is one of the Order’s other secrets.”

After saying so, Izmilla folded her wings away again and returned to her human form.

“Excellent. No wonder the Order treasured you.”

“I’m ashamed, Sir Azadine. I can only feel how lacking I am.”

During the pilgrimage band attack and even now, Izmilla felt powerless.

‘Objectively, her swordsmanship is solid, she’s a Celestial so her mana is impressive, her resistance to magic seems enormous, and she looks tough, too.’

It was not so much that her skill was lacking—it was that people were targeting her, the very existence of a Celestial. But with bad things happening repeatedly, she could not help shrinking inward.

“So, Sir Azadine. I need your help.”

“Hm. I figured as much. Tell me the details.”

When Azadine demanded it, Izmilla pointed down the road.

“Let’s talk while we walk. The sun will set soon.”

The sun was setting over Fireglyph Fortress. At an inn on the outskirts of the fortress, the investigation unit had gathered.

They had been fretting in panic until they spotted Sir Izmilla returning along the road, and they immediately burst out of the inn.

“Sir Izmilla!”

“You’re safe!”

“But who is that beside you…?”

They welcomed Izmilla back to the fortress, then flinched in surprise. Izmilla had returned with Azadine’s group.

“Don’t worry. This is Sir Azadine, who saved me.”

“Sir Azadine?”

“He helped when the pilgrimage band was attacked, too. At present…”

“I am Azadine, a trainee knight serving as the commander of Vermilion Fortress’s guard detail, brother.”

Azadine called them brother, but everyone’s expression turned awkward.

Within the Order, it was common to call each other brother, but in truth, there were major divides—what virtue-sect one belonged to: Wisdom, Courage, or Benevolence.

And in Azadine’s case, there was a problem even before sect affiliation.

‘That’s the infamous Herald Clan bastard.’

‘A New-King slayer. A soulless blasphemer calling us brother?’

‘Sure, he saved Sir Izmilla—but did he really “save” her? During the pilgrimage band attack, and now again. He appears every time Sir Izmilla is in danger. He could be the culprit.’

‘But he’s ridiculously handsome. He’s… kind of alluring.’

They distrusted Azadine. Then the one with the highest rank among them, the investigation commander, stepped forward.

“Ah—Sir Azadine. First, thank you for rescuing Sir Izmilla. I am Pavel, the overall commander of this investigation unit. A Hospitaller. I will not forget your service, and I will report it to the higher-ups.”

“Thank you.”

“However—do you know about Sir Izmilla’s… identity?”

“By identity, do you mean that she has angel wings?”

“Mm. So you did see it. Keep silent about that.”

“Of course, there’s no reason to speak of it publicly. But I wasn’t the only one who saw it—quite a lot of people in the city did. And since the enemy is targeting her so relentlessly, they likely already know as well.”

As Azadine pointed out, the Northern Emperor’s men already knew Izmilla was a Celestial, and they had brought Shadowsteel chains etched with a powerful suppression curse to kidnap her.

Yet even in this situation, the rigid hierarchy of the Order left them hesitating.

“I have already reported it to the higher-ups. Until their reply arrives, we cannot act rashly.”

Sir Pavel demonstrated the very peak of bureaucratic inertia.

If they contacted the higher-ups now, how long would it take to get a reply?

Then Izmilla stepped forward.

“Sir Pavel. Fireglyph has no diocesan seat, so when we report upward, we can only send a dispatch rider. We do not know how long that will take, and we cannot remain helpless in the meantime. Therefore, here and now, I intend to request Sir Azadine’s assistance.”

“What?! What are you saying, Sir Izmilla?”

“Sir Azadine already knows my identity, and he excels in martial prowess, strategy, and character. Moreover, he is our brother in the Order. To fulfill our mission, it would be hard to find a better ally. Since we have already suffered casualties due to the enemy’s cunning ambush, do we not need his help?”

“But the matter we are investigating, Sir Izmilla, will not end with your identity alone. We are investigating an important secret that a mere trainee knight must not know….”

Sir Pavel tried to oppose Azadine’s involvement.

“Hey—we never even said we’d help, so why are you all arguing among yourselves about whether you ‘need’ us? Azadine! Ignore these people. Even if you help, they’ll never say a good word about you.”

“Now—”

Camilla openly snapped, and Sir Pavel was left speechless by her rudeness. The other investigators beside him also bristled at her words.

“How insolent!”

“And who are you?!”

“Who am I? Someone who lent a hand in saving your precious Sir Izmilla—the woman you’d die for. Why should I be the one listening to your thanks, yet still get treated like this? Huh?!”

When Camilla barreled in on pure temper, Azadine restrained her.

“That’s enough, Camilla.”

“What? But Azadine—there’s no need to let these people take advantage of you.”

“Camilla. Calm down. There’s something more important than that right now.”

As he said that, Azadine suddenly drew the blade strapped to his back. Aurelia Dawn—Wisdom Knight Sir Plank’s keepsake—caught the moonlight and shimmered with a soft golden glow.

“What?!”

“Why are you drawing your sword?!”

Sir Pavel and the investigators, startled, all drew their weapons at once.

“Before that, I have one question. Why are you outside the walls right now?”

“What are you talking about?”

“By now, you should be under investigation by Sir Hexenmaier’s soldiers. I’m asking how you managed to come out beyond Fireglyph.”

The investigators had been involved in an attack and a murder case inside the city, and Izmilla had displayed angel wings before the public.

Azadine’s group had escaped before the commotion spread, but by now Fireglyph Fortress should have raised its alert level and be monitoring people coming and going.

And yet these people were outside the walls? Had Sir Hexenmaier simply let likely suspects walk free?

Azadine found that suspicious.