Adopt 191

191
Thud.

The razor-sharp blade sliced through flesh, a spray of blood bursting forth.

The intruder bit his lip, enduring the pain as the blade pierced his palm.

Immediately, the blood from his wound began to move in the air like a water snake, tracing a black magic circle across the back of the man’s hand.

“To make it look like a natural decline… but I’ll add a touch of poison so he won’t last through the night.”

Muttering monotonously, the man adjusted a portion of the black magic circle, then brought his wounded hand close to Giuseppe’s lips.

As he clenched his fist, a single drop of blood infused with the black magic circle slid into Giuseppe’s mouth, vanishing without a trace.

The poison wrought by black magic would leave no evidence in the body.

By the time the priests came at dawn to check Giuseppe’s condition, everything would already be over.

His work done, the intruder withdrew without a backward glance, unaware that a translucent butterfly was fluttering softly in his wake.

Pause.

Sensing something out of place, the intruder hesitated at the door and suddenly turned back.

“……”

There was a faint sense of presence, yet his eyes found only Giuseppe, sleeping, on the brink of death.

With a short, hollow laugh, the intruder quietly left the temple.

As the moonlight waned, seeping through the window, a corner of the room shimmered as if with heat, and two figures appeared.

“Ugh, I feel like I’m about to break out in hives.”

Dashing forward, Cheshire shuddered and grimaced as if he were standing in the middle of a filthy garbage dump.

The psychological pressure of being at the very heart of the hated temple, coupled with the clash between the temple’s divine power and his own magic, made the air feel suffocating around him.

Unable to tolerate it any longer, Cheshire dispelled the illusion magic that had cloaked the room.

Immediately, the figure of Giuseppe—who had been quietly breathing on the bed—vanished, replaced by a crude mannequin haphazardly tied together with cloth.

It was fortunate the intruder was so overconfident in his own strength.

Had the man slashed at his target or examined the body even slightly, the illusion would have been discovered at once.

‘Well, in that case, we could have just restrained the intruder.’

Finally able to breathe after dispelling the magic, Cheshire spoke without looking back.

“So, how does it feel to witness your own assassination firsthand?”

The reply came without hesitation.

“It was a novel experience.”

Cheshire turned, unable to hide his appalled expression.

Though he had just witnessed an attempt on his own life, Giuseppe’s face was as calm as ever.

‘If it hadn’t been for Master, he would really have died just like that. He’s no different from the Grand Duke—completely expressionless, but in a different way.’

Recognizing at a glance that Giuseppe’s serene expression was as good as a mask, Cheshire always kept a certain distance, observing the High Priest carefully.

“Listen carefully, Cheshire. I’m going to visit the temple and announce that I’m departing for the capital. Then, under the pretext of checking on the High Priest’s condition before I leave, I’ll meet with him and give him ‘this.’”

In Belinda’s hand was a potion Cheshire had never seen before.

But it was easy enough to guess its identity.

“That’s the Waters of All Things, isn’t it?”

Vivian’s restorative potion.

Belinda, holding it, gave a sly, confident smile, as if she were plotting something wicked.

“I can guarantee the Waters of All Things will be effective, but officially Giuseppe is to remain unconscious all day.”

Ever since the novice priest—revealed as a black mage—had made an attempt on Giuseppe’s life at the cost of his own, it wasn’t hard to guess that the High Priest had become a target as well.

So they would not miss the chance to try again.

And Belinda was not the kind of hunter to let her prey escape from the den on its own.

If there was a traitor in the temple, she would deceive them and use them to feed false information to the enemy.

If she couldn’t identify the traitor, she would deceive the entire temple.

This plan had succeeded perfectly. At present, only Belinda and Cheshire knew that Giuseppe had recovered.

Giuseppe listened to the commotion from across the distance.

For now, all the priests were utterly absorbed in caring for the deluge of patients—but once things calmed and morning came, someone would come to check on Giuseppe’s condition.

In other words, until then, no one would know he had recovered. And “Those Who Unveil the Veil of the World” would be certain of his death.

Giuseppe, staring out the window a moment, closed his eyes.

“You may have dragged me into this, but I’m not so irresponsible as to abandon my duties just because I’m laid up. I’ll make sure this affair ends perfectly—so the High Priest will be obliged to follow my lead, no questions asked.”

Those were the first words Belinda had said to him, once he regained consciousness after the explosion.

“So watch closely. There’s no such thing as predetermined fate. Even if there were, I’d never accept it.”

Perhaps it was the mysterious potion.

Half-conscious, lying weakly in bed, Giuseppe gazed up at Belinda.

In her eyes, unflickering even as sunlight poured through the window, something burned like a living flame.

For the first time, Giuseppe felt a simple curiosity—rather than suspicion or duty—to glimpse her past.

With the Power of Insight, Giuseppe had once seen Belinda Blanche as a cruel woman, bent on cursing the world.

But this woman, standing in front of him now, flatly denying the existence of fate—who was she, truly?

“So cooperate with me, High Priest.”

Had he any strength to move, Giuseppe might have reached out and recklessly probed into her past.

That was how strong the urge had become, to learn what she was hiding.

But Giuseppe only sighed, casting out the uncharacteristic desire and curiosity.

Then, at last, he voiced the answer he’d left unsaid before.

“In accordance with your wishes, Marchioness, I will cooperate with the Tower.”

“……”

At Giuseppe’s words, Cheshire raised a crooked eyebrow.

Belinda had hoped that, with the Tower and the temple cooperating, things could be resolved more easily.

He didn’t disagree with her thinking, but understanding and acting were different things.

Their values, their sources of power, and their suspicions about black magic—their nations had never been aligned in hundreds of years.

It was only the Five Nations Council, with its mutual non-aggression pact, that had prevented war.

And so, the idea that a mage and a priest would ever work together had seemed impossible.

‘Master really managed to achieve the impossible.’

Cheshire wasn’t sure whether to sigh or rejoice. He simply nodded.

“All right then—tell me what you saw in the black mage before the explosion. What did ‘two days later’ mean?”

“Before that, I’d like to know—did you place a tracking spell on the intruder just now?”

Damn it. How did he know that?

The two exchanged nothing but questions, neither offering any answers.

They might have agreed to cooperate, but deep-seated distrust and suspicion lingered beneath the surface.

After a long silence, Giuseppe spoke as if conceding.

“It seems, for a smooth partnership, we’ll need the Marchioness’s help.”

“Agreed.”

With that, and after a moment’s hesitation, Cheshire spat out a brief word and turned away.

“I’ll deliver Master’s message with the familiar.”

And, clearly none too pleased, he left behind a yellow butterfly—his familiar—and slipped out of the room.