Chapter 81
“What did you and Her Highness talk about?”
Sergei asked the moment he climbed into the carriage.
The Saintess removed her hooded robe, which had been pulled low over her head. Luxuriant black hair, hidden until now, tumbled down in thick waves. With a soft sigh, she took off her mask as well.
“Why? Worried about what we might’ve said?”
Sergei looked at her, black hair and gray eyes, the unmistakable features of House Winter. It would’ve been a lie to say he wasn’t surprised when he first saw her. He had his theories, but none with any real basis.
He replied evenly.
“You know a critical time is approaching, Saintess. It never hurts to be cautious.”
“She was more cooperative than expected, so things are moving faster.”
‘She’ referred to none other than Marinda. Then, Sergei voiced a long-held question.
“How did you manage to save Marinda? I was told she died instantly.”
“Marquis.”
The Saintess let out a quiet laugh.
“There are far more things in this world that you don’t know.”
Her tone was almost chiding, like speaking to a child, and Sergei’s face stiffened.
The Saintess held many secrets, and Sergei had countless questions for her.
Why did Duke Winter collapse the moment he touched the altar? Why couldn't he let go of it? How could she possess black hair and gray eyes? And many more.
But Sergei didn’t press her. He enjoyed uncovering mysteries as much as he enjoyed conducting experiments, and the Saintess was a particularly intriguing subject.
‘Fascinating.’
He didn’t know how long this interest would last, but for now, he decided to indulge in it. That was why he obediently followed her lead. A faint smile tugged at his lips.
Just then, the Saintess asked an unexpected question.
“Marquis, how much do you know about black magic?”
Sergei had first encountered black magic at a banquet held by the son of a viscount, a family with whom his own had frequent dealings. At the time, he was only nine years old. He’d been captivated by the way the servants moved like puppets under command. But soon after, the Emperor classified mind-control magic as black magic, and it became taboo. Sergei forgot about it until he came into contact with it again through a deal with the High Priest.
Sergei was, in a word, a genius. He accomplished things others couldn’t. With his looks, wealth, and noble birth, he’d always had everything he wanted, which made life feel dull far too early. To escape that early-onset boredom, he began seeking out the dangerous and unusual. That curiosity led him to human experimentation, something the High Priest just so happened to desire.
Sergei’s breakthrough idea was to infuse a human body with divine power. Not only did he come up with the concept, he carried it out and succeeded. It secured his deal with the High Priest.
But the results varied drastically depending on the subject’s constitution. The success rate was so low it was practically gambling, only about ten out of a hundred would survive.
At first, he gathered subjects from the slums, people no one would miss. But rumors began to spread, and slum dwellers grew wary. So his next stop was the slave markets. However, public scrutiny made even that increasingly difficult until the High Priest stepped in and sent shamans skilled in mind control.
Thanks to them, Sergei no longer had to waste resources constantly rotating staff to maintain secrecy. With mind control, he could use the same assistants for life without fear of leaks.
“I’m familiar with it.”
“Then do you know anything about the ‘Unknown Hero’ among the Five?”
Her question came out of nowhere. Sergei frowned slightly but shook his head.
“There’s barely any information about that one. For all we know, they might not have existed at all.”
There were no records, no solid proof. People often wondered aloud whether the Unknown Hero had ever been real. The other four heroes all had descendants, and the evidence of their lineages was well-documented. The spirit mage’s line had ended just a few decades ago, but the other three still had surviving heirs. The Unknown Hero, though? No trace at all. It made sense that little was known.
“According to the Saintess’s personal writings, the Unknown Hero was just an ordinary human.”
“An ordinary human?”
“Yes.”
One of the Five Heroes, an ordinary human. Sergei furrowed his brow.
“They weren’t compatible with mana, magic, or divine power at all.”
“That’s…”
“Which is why they were used as a shield for the other four heroes.”
If they were immune to mana, magic, and divine power, that made them invulnerable and therefore, the perfect human shield.
“So this ‘Unknown Hero’ was…”
“According to the records, they were experimented on to be turned into a literal shield.”
Sergei’s eyes gleamed. The idea of turning a living human into a shield—he had never heard of such an experiment. He couldn’t contain his excitement.
“What happened then?”
“Who knows? That part of the record was torn out.”
She answered casually, brushing back her hair. Just then, the carriage came to a stop. They had arrived at the temple. The Saintess stepped past him and got out of the carriage.
Sergei watched her retreating figure, replaying her words in his mind.
‘So she has her own private record book.’
Perhaps it contained a way to turn living beings into objects. Driven by scholarly obsession, Sergei began devising a plan to acquire the Saintess’s records.
“Marquis, sometimes knowing too much can be your downfall.”
Startled, Sergei froze. Her words felt like she’d read his thoughts.
“Prepare to strike the House of Winter.”
With that, the Saintess vanished.
— — —
Once inside the temple, the Saintess waved away the priests who rushed toward her and made her way to the garden. Her steps were light, and she even hummed a tune as she walked deeper in. Once she was out of sight, she removed her robe and mask, which she had worn before getting off the carriage.
‘That expression was priceless.’
She let out an unrestrained laugh as she recalled the princess’s stunned face.
‘Do we really look that alike?’
The princess looked like she’d seen a ghost.
The Saintess touched her own face. The resemblance was undeniable. Thanks to her cursedly strong Winter bloodline, she had been locked away since childhood.
‘Doesn’t seem like he knows.’
As expected, Edmund had hidden the truth from Damian, both about his origins and his real mother.
The Saintess soon stopped walking and pulled aside a curtain of vines. A dark cave came into view. Past the damp passage, an old, abandoned altar appeared.
“Huh? Gone?”
She tilted her head at the empty altar. Whoever had been there must’ve escaped using inhuman strength. But it didn’t matter. Her objective had already been achieved, and Edmund was no longer of interest.
“Let’s take a look.”
With excitement building in her chest, she stepped toward the altar, but her expression quickly turned ice cold.
“…It’s gone.”
The altar, which should have been brimming with the power of the Unknown Hero, was completely empty.
* * *
“The situation is dire.”
Baroness Nouvelle, just back from a medical visit, bowed with a grim expression. A heavy sigh, no one’s in particular, filled the room.
“Her pulse is weakening, and her breathing is shallow.”
The person she had examined was none other than Daphne.
It had been three days since Daphne returned, but rather than waking up, her condition was only deteriorating. They had urgently procured a magic stone infused with divine power, but its quality was too poor to be effective.
Worse still, Daphne now required even more magic stones than before. Where two per day once sufficed, her body now demanded increasing amounts. For the time being, gathering them wasn’t difficult but that wouldn’t last.
“If we keep collecting magic stones in bulk, the Emperor will eventually catch on.”
As the baroness left, Johann immediately spoke.
“And the Emperor already harbors deep resentment toward Your Excellency.”
“…Let him notice. It doesn’t matter.”
Edmund replied listlessly.
“I can’t think of a way to save Daphne.”
“Your Excellency, you’re taking on a dangerous risk when we don’t even know when the Madam will wake.”
“Johann.”
“There may be another way.”
Edmund’s gaze, which had been fixed on nothing, now turned to Johann.
“Another way?”
“I heard it by chance... I wasn’t planning to bring it up.”
“Speak.”
“It’s extremely dangerous, reckless, even.”
“I said speak.”
Despite being the one who brought it up, Johann hesitated under Edmund’s firm tone.
“There’s a massive magic stone buried in the northern snowfields. Supposedly, it’s the same one the heroes used during the Great War. It contains immense divine power.”
“Is that confirmed?”
“Not entirely. But one thing is certain. It’s the only chance we’ve got.”
Edmund fell silent.
Johann was right. It was a gamble, perhaps too dangerous. The snowfields of the North were a haven for monsters, buried under eternal snow. And if they headed north, they would have to take Daphne. That would make acquiring the magic stone even harder, and if anything went wrong, they could lose her.
‘The only chance we’ve got…’
Edmund repeated the words in his head. Then, he looked up.
“…We go north.”
To save Daphne.