Inquisitor Asmail.
His youthful appearance was like the sand on top of a trapdoor spider’s lair.
One might be lured in by his radiant, endlessly gentle smile, only to be devoured before they realized what had happened.
Though Asmail still looked like a boy, there was no denying his strength. In the heat of war against heretics, he was capable of carving a path soaked in the blood of his enemies, all on his own.
Such power was a prerequisite for the title of Inquisitor of the Holy King.
A boy overwhelmingly strong beyond his years. Asmail was one of only two Inquisitors in the Holy Palace.
However, as expected, such strength came with a price. Though it was true that Asmail’s talent was extraordinary, it wasn’t enough to explain his power. He had offered himself to God as a sacrifice.
The reason for this was nothing special.
On the continent, it was not uncommon for people to die. And often, the Blood Cult was responsible for those deaths. Asmail’s case was no exception. His parents and family had been massacred.
His village was devastated.
The Blood Cult had staged a one-sided slaughter, offering sacrifices. People were killed like objects.
‘Stay still, don’t breathe, wait until everyone leaves.’
Hidden beneath his dying mother, Asmail waited in silence. After his mother had died, he closed her eyes and made a vow as he ran out.
He swore he would kill every last member of the Blood Cult.
— Offer everything you have.
He heard God’s command.
That was all.
That day, in a small village in the Holy Kingdom of Constantine, every person, except for one boy, died.
Not only the villagers who were massacred by the Blood Cult, but the cultists themselves as well.
It was the moment the second Inquisitor of the Holy Kingdom of Constantine was born.
Of course, Asmail felt no joy from this. His parents were already dead.
All he had gained was the chance to protect their bodies and give them a proper burial.
That was it.
That was the reason Asmail gained his talent and became an Inquisitor.
◆
There is a traitor within the Holy Palace.
Asmail had sensed this for some time.
Previously, it had been a little troublesome but manageable to capture members of the Blood Cult.
Recently, however, it had become nearly impossible.
The movements of the Inquisitors are reported to their superiors when carrying out official missions.
So Asmail deduced.
There must be a traitor within the Holy Palace providing information to the Blood Cult.
He had a suspect.
Archbishop Julius.
Always with a facade of a benevolent smile, yet his words were colder and more calculating than anyone’s. The type of person who could be scheming behind the scenes. His position required him to interact frequently with outsiders, which only fueled Asmail’s suspicions.
But since Julius held significant power within the Holy Palace, it wasn’t easy to investigate him openly.
Then, Archbishop Julius issued a warrant. An urgent, high-priority red warrant. The order was to arrest a man named Lloyd immediately if seen or located.
A red warrant is the second highest level of warrant the Holy Palace can issue. For someone of Julius’s stature to issue one was unusual.
It was no coincidence, then, that Asmail had captured Lloyd while pretending to be passing through the Inquisition Chambers.
‘People worship for two reasons.’
First, to catch and punish a heinous criminal.
And second, to conceal their own weaknesses, as if they were the criminal.
Considering Archbishop Julius’s personality, it was surely the latter.
Thus, Asmail was resolute.
Even if he had to break this man into pieces, he would extract useful information about Julius.
He would uncover the link between Julius and the Blood Cult.
Until the day the Blood Cult was wiped off the continent.
Lloyd looked tense, staring at him. Asmail, full of conviction, wielded his sword.
“You are undoubtedly a member of the Blood Cult.”
It had to be true. More precisely, it had to be.
This would be the first step in tracking down Julius.
– Rip.
Asmail’s blade tore through Lloyd’s sleeve.
From elbow to shoulder.
The color of his skin gradually came into view.
Julius felt a strange thrill.
He was certain that the Blood Cult’s symbol would be engraved on Lloyd’s left arm.
And finally, when the last shred of cloth covering his arm fell away—
“… What?”
Asmail muttered unconsciously.
Lloyd’s left arm was clean.
There was nothing there.
“This can’t be right.”
Clearly flustered.
Forgetting even to smile, Asmail grabbed Lloyd’s arm.
“I’m not really into physical contact with men.”
Lloyd quipped with a sarcastic tone, which Asmail ignored as he examined Lloyd’s arm.
No matter how much he looked, the symbol of the Blood Cult wasn’t going to appear.
“It doesn’t make sense.”
Asmail let go of Lloyd’s left arm, almost tossing it aside. This couldn’t be right.
There had to be something there.
The reason was simple and clear.
Asmail had sensed the faint aura of the Blood Cult emanating from Lloyd.
‘I definitely felt it.’
The moment he first saw Lloyd, he had caught a glimpse of the edge of a symbol as Lloyd’s sleeve slid up his arm.
It was without a doubt the mark of the Blood Cult.
Therefore, Asmail had been interrogating Lloyd with the assumption that he already knew everything.
His plan was to break Lloyd’s mental defenses and have him spill deeper secrets, such as his connection to Archbishop Julius.
But now—
“This… this can’t be happening.”
Instead of breaking Lloyd’s resolve, Asmail found himself bewildered. The feeling that Lloyd was a member of the Blood Cult was off.
Asmail’s ‘Blood Cult radar’, which had never been wrong, was malfunctioning. And the symbol he thought he had glimpsed?
Gone. It had been a long time since Asmail had been this shaken.
“Show me your right arm as well.”
“Just don’t cut it off.”
Ignoring Lloyd’s flippant remark, Asmail grabbed his right arm. Though it wasn’t muscular, there was a surprising amount of muscle for someone who wasn’t physically inclined. It was more than you’d expect from a mage.
That strange balance only added to Asmail’s confusion.
—Shriiiip!
That was why Asmail roughly tore through the sleeve of Lloyd’s right arm as well.
“That was a shirt I liked, you know.”
Lloyd’s casual tone only served to confirm that there was nothing there either.
“Hah.”
A clearly defeated sigh escaped from Asmail. He couldn’t believe it. That he had misjudged someone as a member of the Blood Cult? It was impossible.
“So, magic. Are you using magic to deceive my eyes?”
Asmail questioned Lloyd accusingly.
Lloyd chuckled, as if to say that such an idea was absurd.
“You’re an Inquisitor, aren’t you? You should have noticed the flow of mana. Did I seem like I was using magic?”
“Damn it.”
“You’re getting agitated. So you didn’t feel anything, which means I wasn’t using magic. Unless you think I’m a mage far superior to any Inquisitor.”
“Shut up.”
“What’s wrong? Does it sting? You were so smug earlier, but things aren’t going your way, huh? You just made a mistake.”
“You damn…”
Asmail clenched his teeth, but stopped himself from cursing out loud.
Lloyd was right.
He looked pathetic now.
He had been so sure, pushing Lloyd as if he was a member of the Blood Cult, only to be undone by his own arrogance.
A complete defeat.
He had been wrong about Lloyd being part of the Blood Cult.
He couldn’t believe it.
The faint aura of the Blood Cult that he had sensed earlier was now completely gone.
Maybe he really had seen things wrong.
“Does the Holy Palace not even apologize when they arrest the wrong person?”
“I must have been mistaken. My apologies.”
“I’m not sure if that counts as an apology, but I’ll take it.”
“…”
At this point, it didn’t matter.
He had come up empty.
He hadn’t found any evidence to link Archbishop Julius to the Blood Cult.
Soon, someone from Julius’s side would arrive. After all, Asmail had merely intercepted Lloyd in the middle of the process.
It would be better to clean up and leave.
As Asmail started gathering up the torn pieces of cloth, something caught his attention.
“Hey.”
Lloyd’s insolent voice echoed through the room.
Asmail realized something in that moment—whenever he heard that voice, his composure wavered.
Lloyd was an odd character.
It felt as though he could dominate the atmosphere of the room in various ways. So, Asmail answered, even though there was no real need to.
“What is it?”
“You almost looked like you were about to kill someone, and now you ask ‘what is it’? If you think what you just did counts as an apology, you’re headed straight for a public scandal.”
“A public scandal… I don’t know what that means. But consider the apology given.”
“What?”
“I didn’t kill you, did I? That’s more restraint than I usually show.”
Asmail, expressionless, hung his tools back on the wall.
He didn’t want to be dragged into more conversation with Lloyd. He was just about to walk out when—
“Asmail, you serve the Saintess, don’t you? Not the Holy King.”
That was a statement he couldn’t let slide.
— Swish.
The sound of wind stirred.
In an instant, Asmail was standing next to Lloyd, looking down at him with a menacing gaze.
Am I going to die?
For a brief moment, Lloyd felt a sharp jolt of fear and shuddered. But it didn’t last. He soon began to speak again, his words deliberate.
“It makes sense. The Saintess stands in direct opposition to the Blood Cult.”
“Watch your mouth. Unless you want your head separated from your shoulders.”
“Go ahead and cut it off. But rumors of an Inquisitor serving someone other than the Holy King? That would be far more dangerous for you, wouldn’t it?”
“What do you want? Why risk your life to provoke me? You could have just stayed quiet, and I would’ve walked out. Why make me think about killing you now?”
Lloyd.
There was no doubt—he was strange.
People like him usually had an agenda.
Something big, often requiring the sacrifice of others to achieve their grand, selfish ambitions.
And at the same time, people like him possessed something else.
A strange charisma, the kind that made others listen to their absurd demands. A power that was hard to ignore.
Lloyd opened his mouth again.
“My plans got a little derailed, but I think this works out better.”
“Plans?”
“Yeah. Let’s work together. How about we cut off the head of someone important in the Holy Palace?”
Lloyd smiled brightly as he said something utterly insane.
