“Loopholes...”

The priest flicked a glance to the side out of the corner of his eye, then tilted his head slightly, putting on an almost exaggeratedly attentive posture—as if, before dying, he truly intended to listen carefully to the answer to a question that had long baffled him.

However...

“And that loophole is... hm?”

Edeline’s explanation came to an abrupt halt.

She suddenly sniffed the air and turned her gaze toward Krete’s corpse.

“That’s strange. Why ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) does the smell of blood seem... a bit faint?”

Something wasn’t right.

She had clearly cut open Krete’s throat. By all logic, the stench of blood should have been overwhelming—but what she sensed now was no stronger than that of an ordinary wound.

Having come this far, Edeline had seen her fair share of gruesome scenes. She was extremely sensitive to the difference in the density of blood in the air.

But Krete...

“It’s the rain, probably.”

The priest spoke calmly. “What’s there to worry about? Sister, why not continue where you left off... what’s the truth behind those corpses?”

“Is that so?”

“Of course. What other explanation could there be?”

“None, it seems... but you do sound a little impatient, Father.”

Edeline raised a brow, her tone carrying a hint of meaning.

“Impatient?”

The priest replied, “Naturally. I’m about to die, after all. Of course I’d be in a hurry.”

“And yet, I don’t think your impatience comes from facing death.”

Edeline leaned in until their foreheads nearly touched, staring straight into his eyes.

“There’s not a trace of fear in them. That’s not the look of a worthless man afraid of dying... On the contrary, I feel a fire burning deep in your eyes. What is that? After decades as a gravekeeper, is there still some unfinished obsession? Or does that flame mean something else?”

“...You’re being overly cautious, Sister.”

The priest fell silent for a moment before answering.

“I’m just a cripple cast out by the Church. Fire? That has nothing to do with me.”

“Don’t lie to me. My instincts are always sharp.”

A pale, delicate hand—yet cold as ice—slid up to his throat like a venomous snake, ready to claim his life at any moment.

“Do you have any idea how many people I’ve counseled? I can tell at a glance what a person’s eyes mean.”

“Your perception is sharp, then.”

“Of course,” Edeline said with a hint of pride.

“Then why is it that something so close to you has gone unnoticed?” the priest asked, puzzled.

“What?”

“...Sigh.”

The priest turned his head and looked off toward an empty patch of air, as if speaking to someone who wasn’t there.

“I’ve got to say, kid, your way of doing things really doesn’t match someone from a cold-blooded gang. If you hadn’t saved that Eye of the Saints boy, I’d already have pried the answer out of her.”

“Can you blame me? That guy looked like a decent person. I’m not going to sacrifice a good man just for our plan.”

Krete’s body on the ground suddenly vanished like a wavering illusion.

And another figure appeared in the cemetery.

A man in a long black coat stood beneath the tree, shrugging helplessly at the priest.

“To be honest, I’m a pretty good guy.”

“I see...”

The priest raised a trembling hand, pinched the cigarette between his fingers, and took a drag, blowing the smoke straight into Edeline’s face.

“In that case, Mr. Good Guy, could you help this old man out first? The Sister’s hand is awfully cold, and at my age, it’s easy to catch a chill.”

“Of course.”

Muen smiled.

“Coming right up.”

Buzz—

Edeline’s pupils shrank.

She hadn’t even figured out how this unfamiliar man had managed to hide right under her nose without her noticing when a violent gust of force swept toward her, stinging her skin.

Holy Light gathered, forming a barrier.

But... too late.

Before the light could fully condense, a hand had already cut across in front of her.

That hand—and its owner—seemed to have appeared out of thin air, moving even faster than her ability to form a defense.

The barrier was useless, because the hand was already inside it.

Five fingers curled, like the claws of a beast.

“Thunder.”

She heard the low murmur.

And then—

A thunderous roar.

Terrifying vibrations erupted from the center of that palm, spreading in an instant like a crashing storm. The delayed barrier not only failed to block it, but instead became a surface that reflected the shock back.

In that instant, Edeline felt as though she herself had turned into a bolt of lightning, slammed violently into the earth in the bleak rain.

Literally slammed into it.

Boom!

Dust exploded into the air.

Looking at the cracked ground, Muen flexed his wrist and sighed.

“It’s been a while since I used this move so straightforwardly. I’m getting rusty—hard to control the force.”

“You brat!”

The priest’s cheek twitched. “This cemetery of mine is important! If you wreck it, I’ll make you pay for it!”

“Huh? I just saved you, and I don’t even get a thank-you?”

“Hmph. Who do you think risked his life acting as bait for you?”

“Fair point...”

Muen scratched his head, then casually removed his hat and gave a slight bow.

“In that case—thank you.”

“No need for thanks. That answer... I wanted to hear it myself.”

The priest stood, pulled the holy scripture out from under himself, and tucked it back into his chest. Limping, he made his way to the old tree where Muen had been, dragged the severely wounded and unconscious Krete up, and began slowly heading toward a distant wooden hut.

“I’ll leave this to you. A Great Sister of the Church isn’t that easy to deal with.”

“Mm. Got it. I’ll come by for a drink later, old man.”

“Fine. Bring your own liquor.”

Though his movements looked labored, the priest moved quickly enough, disappearing from sight in no time.

“Cheap old man.”

Muen shook his head and refocused on the present.

Under the steady drizzle, the dust settled quickly. Edeline, covered in mud and filth, staggered back to her feet.

She looked disheveled, but her eyes remained calm. One hand rested against her lower abdomen as Holy Light worked to repair her injuries.

“How did you hide yourself? I’m curious,” Edeline asked.

“Two little tricks combined into one decent trick. Nothing worth mentioning.”

Muen smiled faintly as the faint motes of light and arcs of electricity around him faded away.

“A technique you don’t wish to reveal? I see.”

Edeline nodded as if it made perfect sense, as though accepting the loss without complaint.

“No... it really was just a small trick.”

Muen spread his hands helplessly. He was being honest, yet people never believed him.

“At this point, why bother hiding it? Ah, right... someone like you, hiding behind a mask—that’s your nature.”

Edeline straightened up. The wound on her abdomen had already healed completely.

“I was careless. To think that after spending my days fishing, I’d end up being struck in the face by a fish’s tail.”

“Fish?”

“Yes. Fish. You are all fish, trapped in a pond, unaware of your own inevitable end. Pitiful and pathetic.”

“Well, Sister...”

Muen tilted his head slightly, his expression strange.

“Even if what you’re saying sounds mysterious and hard to make sense of—like some annoying riddle...”

He looked at her.

“But the one who got hooked is you. So how am I the fish?”