Where The Angel’s Blood Went (4)

“Uh, there wasn’t a way, was there?”

The Fire Guards, growing anxious, asked Azadine as if begging.

“There were several ways. The first was a sting operation.”

“A sting operation, you said?”

“Yes. You Fire Guards returned to your main unit right now and reported that you had tried to secure Sir Izmilla and her group, but they suddenly went mad and attacked, so you had no choice but to fight; you seriously wounded them and hid them somewhere for the moment. If Sir Hexenmaier was a normal knight, he would gather regular chapter forces and move officially. If he wasn’t, he would come under the pretext of ‘covering up the incident,’ selecting only the ones he truly trusted. Then you ambushed them and wrung out information and a confession.”

“You’re saying we should assault Sir Hexenmaier before the suspicion is even confirmed?”

“It was certain to work, and it was the fastest method. But you didn’t like it, did you?”

“…….”

For mere rank-and-file knights to lay a trap for the Chapter Master on the basis of a little suspicion, then attack him—there was no way they could do such a thing.

As if he knew the Knights Order’s bureaucratic nature inside out, Azadine sneered and explained the next plan.

“Right. Crossing that line was hard for you. Then shall I solve it in a way where I take responsibility?”

The knights and members of the Rescue Knights Order who had been watching all inwardly admired Azadine’s bold, matchless methods.

‘Was this the Messenger Clan’s way? It was terrifying—and effective.’

‘More than anything, even in a situation where you couldn’t see an inch ahead, he’s pouring out countermeasures with total confidence. He was young and handsome so you wouldn’t expect it, but he’s truly frightening.’

To them, Azadine presented the second option.

Because Izmilla and the doppelgangers had fought in the middle of the main road and she had revealed the Celestial’s wings, Fireglyph was in an uproar now.

The angel defeated the doppelgangers, but had been kidnapped by strange people, and they were chasing the kidnappers to retrieve the angel.

As such rumors spread, Sir Hexenmaier found it extremely troublesome.

Sir Hexenmaier had formed a cooperative relationship with the Northern Emperor, but that did not mean he trusted him completely or pledged him loyalty.

The Northern Emperor had much to give him, but Sir Hexenmaier did not have much to give the Northern Emperor.

An ordinary person might have sworn loyalty to the Northern Emperor who treated him well, but Sir Hexenmaier constantly doubted him. He knew better than anyone that a politician’s favor was never free.

For a man like him, the arrival at Fireglyph of Sir Izmilla—the existence the Northern Emperor was feverishly searching for—was an opportunity he could not let slip. Even setting that aside, she was the greatest treasure of the Knights Order, so he had to keep her firmly in his grasp no matter what.

With those circumstances, Sir Hexenmaier had moved the doppelgangers and lured Izmilla and the investigators into Fireglyph’s underground prison, intending to subdue them there in secret.

But things went awry when Izmilla recognized the doppelgangers.

Izmilla exterminated all the doppelgangers, and in that moment the Northern Emperor’s subordinates succeeded in kidnapping her.

As it turned out, the Northern Emperor’s men—Prince Kalintz and the agents under him—had also noticed Sir Hexenmaier’s true intent.

Fortunately, Azadine’s group then deployed, drove off the Northern Emperor’s men, and recovered Izmilla.

But now, contact had been lost with the Fire Guards who had been sent out.

“Hmm. This has become troublesome.”

Realizing the situation was turning bad, Sir Hexenmaier decided to lead those he trusted most—those who were more loyal to him than to the Knights Order—and resolve the matter personally.

“That Messenger Clan bastard had a pretty face and extraordinary talent, so I thought it a waste and let him be. And he repaid my goodwill with enmity.”

Sir Hexenmaier had originally intended to imprison Azadine, but he had been willing to leave him alone, valuing the fact that Vermilion Fortress could not be controlled without him, that Azadine bore no particular hostility toward him and was faithful to his duties, and simply that he liked how he looked.

He never imagined the wretch would interfere in Sir Izmilla’s case and ruin everything.

“So. You ugly monster. If your tricks aren’t working, what happened?”

Sir Hexenmaier glared at the doppelgangers’ leader.

A high-ranking doppelganger disguised as Sir Hexenmaier’s servant prostrated himself and answered.

“Sir Hexenmaier. We did our utmost. This was beyond our capabilities.”

If it was beyond their capabilities, wasn’t it the commander’s fault for ordering it?

That implied reproach was mixed in, but Sir Hexenmaier did not even spare the doppelgangers a second thought.

“Yes, of course. Hey, Timothy. How should we untangle this?”

The one called Timothy was the Fire Guard commander, a Hospitaller-Paladin. Like Sir Hexenmaier, he too had committed the sin of lust and had been exiled to Fireglyph.

Having started a family here, he served as Sir Hexenmaier’s loyal subordinate, sharing his aims and splitting the various entertainments and scraps that arose from their work.

He could be called one who enjoyed the trickle-down effect in the truest sense.

“We have no pretext to arrest Sir Izmilla. If we must, we should declare that she was swapped with a doppelganger and seize her, but….”

“And the Messenger Clan bastard?”

“It benefits us to leave him to live at Vermilion Fortress and dig cinnabar. If he doesn’t know his place and keeps sticking his nose in, we’ll have no choice but to kill him. Don’t worry. If we push the line that he was a Messenger Clan spy, no one will object. As for evidence, we can simply tell the Van Dyke Trading Company to fabricate it.”

They already knew what the Van Dyke Trading Company truly was. More precisely, they were its protectors and patrons.

In exchange for providing luxury goods to fulfill their vile desires, as well as assassins and doppelgangers, the Van Dyke Trading Company took enormous trading profits in Fireglyph and siphoned out information from the Knights Order.

Sir Hexenmaier and Sir Timothy were profiting by selling the Knights Order’s information not only to the Northern Emperor, but also to the Messenger Clan.

“Good. Kill the Messenger Clan bastard, and capture Sir Izmilla alive. If we get our hands on a Celestial….”

A Celestial was the Knights Order’s most important secret. Its value was not something that could even be compared to the sum of every secret Sir Hexenmaier had sold so far.

Just thinking of that value made even stern Sir Hexenmaier smile of his own accord.

For such a huge opportunity to come to a man stuck in a rural backwater! If he didn’t seize it, he wasn’t a man.

‘Now that she’s in Fireglyph, it’s practically already in my pocket. I’m grateful he stopped Kalintz from taking her, but that brat got too cocky. Still, what do I do once I have a Celestial? Do I research her independently and uncover the secret of that power—the secret of its “manufacture”? If I sell her, who do I sell her to for the highest price? What should I demand in return?’

Just as Sir Hexenmaier was already calculating Izmilla’s price, one Fire Guard came running in a panic.

“Chapter Master! It’s an emergency!”

“Hm? What is it?”

“The surveillance post at the central plaza has been taken!”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Sir Azadine of Vermilion Fortress is claiming there are doppelgangers mixed in among the soldiers, and he’s seized the soldiers and is holding out!”

“What?”

Sir Hexenmaier was startled by the sudden plea.

“…….”

Izmilla felt a headache surge in.

Under the pure white moonlight, with her Celestial wings revealed, she emitted a soft golden glow and stood in the middle of the plaza, displaying a majestic presence like an elegant ancient statue.

Of course she did—Azadine had put her up on the plaza’s fountain for exactly that purpose.

From atop it, Izmilla gripped the burning ceramite longsword and tried to look down with dignity.

People gathered around, and chaos erupted.

“Ooh! It’s an angel!”

“The angel came to save us!”

Fireglyph was originally Rescue Knights Order territory, so there were bound to be many who believed in angels.

Even criminals and exiles who had turned their backs on faith found their dead faith revived before Izmilla’s angelic form, their hearts beating again.

Seeing people bow their heads and pray to her was unbearably embarrassing.

Just then, a group of knights and soldiers pushed through the crowd and approached.

Fireglyph’s Chapter Master, Sir Hexenmaier, Fire Guard Captain Sir Timothy, and their other subordinates.

“W-what is the meaning of this?!”

“Ah, Sir Hexenmaier. You came at just the right time.”

Azadine revealed himself atop the guard post’s roof.

He moved with a lightness as if floating in the air and came to stand beside Izmilla. His glossy black hair and deep violet eyes shone clearly even under the moon, radiating an almost uncanny presence.

Even next to Izmilla, his presence did not diminish—rather, it made them look like a strikingly well-matched pair.

Azadine had borrowed her sanctity—the object of angel-faith reverence that Izmilla represented.

“Good heavens!”

“Is he another angel?”

Seeing Azadine’s beautiful features, people thought he was an angel—or at least a noble being comparable to one.

Azadine spoke in a clear voice. Whether he did it so the people around could hear, the ordinary citizens nearby could hear every word.

“We are the Rescue Knights Order’s incident investigation team, and we are exposing the evil that has infiltrated Fireglyph. Doppelgangers have been hiding among the soldiers, and we have identified them.”

As Azadine said so and pointed in front of the post, soldiers were bound with ropes there, struggling.

“W-we’re not doppelgangers!”

“R-right! There’s some kind of misunderstanding!”

But between the testimony of soldiers and the sight of Izmilla as an angel, it was obvious which side people would believe.

“Look. Those are….”

“N-no. They are simply human.”

A high-ranking doppelganger shook his head.

“You bastard. So you’re doing this to pressure me….”

Sir Hexenmaier drew his sword, seething.

“This Messenger Clan bastard is misleading the people right now?!”

Sir Hexenmaier pointed out Azadine’s Messenger Clan origin to cut down his authority.

Azadine nodded.

“Yes. I am indeed of the bloodline of Hathir, leader of the Messenger Clan, and I inherit the blood of Emperor Yaeslat.”

“Gasp?”

“Yaeslat….”

“Are you saying he is of the Emperor’s bloodline?”

People feared the Emperor as a trailblazer who had shattered the King’s Church’s rules, yet at the same time they respected him.

Azadine subtly revealed that he carried the Emperor’s blood, then slightly lowered his head as if he were a tragic protagonist suffering under a cursed lineage.

His face—beautiful as a sculpture—filled with sorrow, and his gestures were so dramatic.