The first night at Belgar Castle had descended upon him. The castle’s retainers proved surprisingly well-trained, attending to Jeha’s needs with quiet efficiency and swiftness. Feigning fatigue with a single yawn, Jeha found himself effortlessly divested of his clothes, dressed in nightwear, and gently guided toward the bed. With a dismissive wave of his hand, Jeha sent the servants away before climbing onto the bed that dominated the antique-furnished bedroom. The bed, plush and inviting, seemed to have been awaiting its master, cradling Jeha’s body in its soft embrace. Instead of the usual glowing orb, Jeha reveled in his first night in the human realm, observing the flickering candlelight that softly illuminated the room and the sleet still scattering beyond the windowpanes.
“This isn’t bad at all,” Jeha mused, lightly tapping the pristine white duvet with his fingers.
Truth be told, Jeha had initially intended to merely glance at Belgar Castle before promptly departing to seek out the young demon dragon. He hadn’t planned on returning, or rather, he hadn’t given the place a second thought. Yet, his arrival had subtly shifted his perspective. This place was a stark contrast to the demon realm, where his mere existence was revered as if he had already fulfilled all duties. Unlike the demons, who served him with god-like devotion, humans openly displayed their emotions and articulated their views in Jeha’s presence. For Jeha, who had been born and raised as a human, this realm felt far more vibrant and alive.
“Paimon.”
Jeha’s soft murmur was met by Paimon’s silent appearance beside the bed, like a specter materializing from thin air.
“Did you call for me, Master?”
“Paimon.”
“Yes.”
“After we find the young demon dragon, can I stay here and live like this for a while instead of going straight back to the Demon King’s Castle?”
Paimon regarded Jeha with a prolonged, steady gaze before responding to his query.
“Do you like it here?”
“Yes, tolerably so. And I suspect I wouldn’t find myself bored here.”
At Jeha’s words, a faint smile, almost imperceptible unless one looked closely, touched the corners of Paimon’s eyes.
“If it can alleviate your Master’s boredom, then nothing is impossible. If you wish, there would be no problem for you to continue living here as Marquis Lysine Belgar.”
“…Really?”
Jeha’s expression turned skeptical. He had honestly not anticipated such an answer, having expected Paimon to persuade him to return to the Demon King’s Castle after a brief sojourn.
“After all, the lifespan of a Marquis Belgar spans merely a few decades at most. If, during that time, you, Master, can avoid boredom, then what impediment could there be? Should you desire it, you could even succeed yourself as the next Marquis Belgar, or even the one after that. There would be absolutely no issue.”
“The next generation and the one after that?”
Jeha’s expression was one of genuine surprise. The idea of adopting new identities to extend the marquisate for several generations, with no repercussions, struck him as remarkably unconventional.
“To such an extent, though…”
After a moment of contemplation, Jeha shook his head, picturing humans fleeing in terror at the sight of a marquis who remained unchanged through multiple generations. Still, the prospect of living as Marquis Belgar for the foreseeable future held a significant appeal.
“Alright, I understand for now. Paimon, you should return to your room and rest.”
“Yes, Master.”
Paimon bowed his head and, just as swiftly, vanished like a phantom.
Jeha surveyed the now solitary bedroom before settling back onto the bed, propping himself up on his arms. After a moment of deep thought, he dismissively waved a hand through the air.
****
The temple’s day began with an early rise and concluded with an early slumber. Contrary to Jeha’s assumption that Hereis would be asleep by now, the mirror revealed him seated opposite another man, a flickering candle separating them. Surprised by this unexpected scene, Jeha propped his chin on his hand, fixing his gaze intently on the mirror’s surface.
[The selected inquisitors have already departed for their respective territories.]
The man, speaking in a hushed, whispering tone, was a face Jeha had never encountered. Dressed in priestly robes, he, too, appeared to be a priest. However, the unadorned nature of his vestments suggested he was a lower or mid-ranking clergyman.
[The inquisitors who were selected were all known for being scrupulous and harsh towards the common people. It would be fortunate if they truly focused only on upholding God’s law, but…]
The man’s voice trailed off. Hereis’s face remained impassive, rendering his emotions unreadable. Yet, the deep blue eyes beneath his slightly lowered silver lashes appeared heavy, suggesting that Hereis, too, harbored ill feelings toward the inquisitors.
The cramped space where they sat differed starkly from Hereis’s customary chambers. It was a narrow room, distinguished by aged wooden beams and a pervasive layer of dust that had settled in every nook and cranny. With only a single, cheap candle flickering precariously on a small, worn table, and the man’s voice reduced to a mere whisper, it seemed apparent they were engaged in a clandestine meeting.
[In the past, when the inquisitors roamed the continent, how many innocent people suffered wrongful deaths? How many difficulties were there before the decision was made to abolish the inquisitor system? Yet, to unilaterally revive the inquisitors, ignoring the opinions of countless priests, using the Demon King’s advent as an opportunity… Archbishop Hereis, you must exert great influence in this matter. At this point, you are the only one who can prevent the wrongful deaths of the common people.]
The man whispered, his voice laced with fervent urgency.
Hereis, who had been listening in silence, finally opened his lips with a measured slowness.
[Of course, I too believe the inquisitor system should be abolished again. However, now that it has been revived, we need a compelling reason to abolish it once more. It was not revived simply out of the temple’s necessity. Numerous territories have seen their tax contributions drastically reduced due to prolonged natural disasters. Many royals and nobles are seeking excuses to exploit the common people. The inquisitor system was revived because their interests aligned with those of the temple. Although I ascended to the position of Archbishop through divine providence, I cannot resolve this matter alone.]
The man’s face fell, his complexion darkening.
[Then how can this matter be resolved? I cannot bear to stand by and watch the tyranny that torments the people in the name of a merciful God.]
The man’s whispered words were imbued with profound anguish. Hereis gently placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, a gesture of quiet solace.
[It won’t be easy, but as long as God’s mercy pities his lambs, this matter will eventually be resolved. Long ago, the inquisitors also provoked great resentment among the people with their ruthlessness and cruelty. Unripe fruit is never picked. We must trust in God’s teachings and wait with patience until the time is ripe.]
[To think how many people will shed blood until that time…]
At the man’s lament, Hereis fell silent for a moment, then spoke with a bitter undertone.
[Of course… it will require no small sacrifice until then…]
[Then what can I do?]
[Brother, you must quietly gather support beneath the surface. When the will of those who pity the common people gathers and accumulates, it will surely become a great force someday, and the day will come when we can achieve our goals.]
[…I understand. Though my power is meager, I will do my best to gather brothers who share our cause.]
The man nodded, his face etched with resolve. Observing this, Hereis allowed a faint smile to grace his lips.
[It’s late. Return carefully so as not to be discovered.]
[Yes, Archbishop.]
Bowing deferentially, the man rose, opened the worn wooden door, and vanished from sight. Left in solitude, Hereis remained seated in the old wooden chair, his gaze fixed on the flickering candlelight. Within his deep blue eyes, an orange glow flickered and danced.
‘What on earth is he thinking?’
Observing Hereis gaze at the candle with an impassive face, Jeha found himself suddenly consumed by curiosity. However, Hereis was not the type whose thoughts could be easily deciphered.
Hereis, observing the solitary candle flame, seemed imbued with a profound sense of loneliness and solitude.
A man of formidable standing as an Archbishop, revered and envied by multitudes. A fortunate soul, showered with God’s grace. And yet, a man who yearned to summon the Demon King, to bring about the downfall of both God and the temple.
Perhaps his apparent solitude was a manifestation of the deep-seated resentment, hatred, and fury towards God that festered within him. For a man whose entire existence had been devoted to serving God, the pact with the Demon King must have signified a complete abandonment of the world as he knew it. In this moment, he likely felt utterly alone in the vast expanse of the world.
Jeha tapped the bed with his fingers, lost in contemplation.
‘Should I try talking to him?’
‘No, that’s not right. If I were to speak now, it would expose the fact that I’d been peering at him like a voyeur.’
He was in the midst of this brief deliberation.
Hereis, who had been sitting in quiet stillness, raised his right hand and placed it over his left breast, directly above his heart. Then, as if savoring a profound thought, he slowly blinked his eyes. Only after a moment’s reflection did Jeha comprehend: Hereis was contemplating the mark of the contract etched upon his very heart.
[Lord Jeha…]
With his hand still resting on his heart, where the mark of the contract resided, Hereis softly uttered Jeha’s name. In that tender summons, Jeha perceived a hint of wistful affection. Upon hearing that call, Jeha understood: the man was not alone. He had his contractor, the Demon King Bellarossa—Jeha himself.
Jeha hesitated no longer, subtly slipping into the space. As he materialized opposite Hereis, a faint, musty odor of mildew assailed his nostrils. Hereis exhibited no surprise at Jeha’s sudden appearance. Instead, he offered a faint, knowing smile, as if he had anticipated Jeha’s arrival. Jeha settled into the crude wooden chair where the male priest had been seated moments earlier. Then, propping his chin on the table, he inquired,
“What schemes are you brewing?”