"No chance at all?"
Hearing how definitive Charles sounded, Jaemar couldn't help but ask, clearly unwilling to give up.
Charles shook his head decisively. "None. I may not be one of the top powerhouses in the world, but I'm certainly considered elite—on par with first-rate combatants in any country. Yet even when Orsaga had just arrived, barely familiar with this world, the power inside him was already hundreds of tis stronger than mine...
And shortly after that, the connection between us was completely severed. Before it broke, I could still feel him growing stronger—or perhaps recovering? All I know is that the gap between us kept widening."
After a mont of silence, Jaemar muttered, "We still have to co up with a plan, right? You and I aren't the type to sit around waiting for death…"
Charles didn't argue. He just sighed helplessly. "That may be true, but we don't have any opportunities right now. The spells he placed on us are still in effect—we don't even have the right to resist.
In fact, we still don't even know what his objective is. He hasn't paid us the slightest attention, doesn't take us seriously at all. To him, we're just tools for handling chores."
Looking at his demoralized companion, Jaemar smacked his lips unconsciously. The wine in his mouth suddenly tasted bitter. He too looked dispirited. "That's exactly why I'm uneasy. I don't know what he's planning, but it can't be anything good. When the truth finally cos out… it might be the mont we die."
"Sigh…"
After another stretch of silence, Jaemar, realizing their eting was starting to feel like a mutual pity party, composed himself, set down his wine glass, and resud his usual calm deanor. He turned to Charles and said, "Actually, you ca at just the right ti. Sothing big might be about to happen here, and I could use your help."
Charles asked with so confusion, "What kind of thing would make you feel short-handed?" He took another sip of his wine.
eting his gaze, Jaemar gave a sheepish smile. "I've received credible information—the mbers of the Profane Convenant are hiding in the capital…"
The mont Charles heard the na of that all-too-familiar cult—one he had led not long ago—he imdiately knew this wasn't a simple matter. His expression turned serious as he slowly set down his glass, trying to swallow the wine in his mouth.
"They're planning to secretly hold a demon-summoning ritual—"
"Pffft!!"
At the horrific news, Charles choked, spewing wine through his nose like a fountain!
Just like a nosebleed that wouldn't stop, the fine fabric of his expensive clothes was instantly stained.
"Cough cough cough…"
Jaemar, clearly used to his friend's reactions, handed over a napkin casually. "That's the situation. And I'm honestly troubled. If this goes on, the Principality of Mardain might end on my watch."
"Tsk—"
That really was a possibility. A very real one, in fact.
Charles wanted to say it aloud, but in the end, he only kept the thought to himself—not wanting to further demoralize Jaemar.
Wiping his face and hands, Charles asked grimly, "If that's the case, don't you have any clues as to where they're hiding?"
He had just taken on a new identity—not keen on becoming a fugitive noble already.
His aning was clear: eliminate the Profane Convenant before they could act.
Jaemar spread his hands and sighed. "I wish I did. The whole lead about them preparing to summon a demon in the capital actually ca from the Church. Even they don't seem to have much detailed information.
This suggests soone powerful in the capital is sheltering the cult—and not just any noble.
Trying to find sothing they've hidden? Even the royal family might not be able to do that.
You never know how many hideouts an aristocratic family that's been around for centuries might have accumulated.
If we had ti, we could search them all—but we don't. If we move too slow, the demon will already be summoned, and by then it'll be too late. That's why I've made so concessions to gain the Church's support."
Charles frowned. "The Church, huh… not exactly the friendliest bunch. But when it cos to cults, I suppose they really are the experts…"
"No choice. As unpleasant as the Church is, they're still better than having a demon appear. Worst-case scenario, even if the Church overthrows the royal family later and hangs , they'll probably leave a whole corpse for being of royal blood.
If it were a demon, I'd be lucky to have anything left of at all."
"You've got a point."
Charles had to admit, that made perfect sense. He couldn't argue with the logic.
"So… what exactly do you need from ?"
"Help identify their hiding places. You don't need to fight. In the capital, once we confirm the exact location, unless the demon shows up right then and there, no one can escape the Mardain royal family's crackdown."
In other places, Jaemar might not be so confident. But in the capital, he had the resources and power to eliminate any mortal threat—be it a warlock or a knight. And if things did get out of hand, the Church, having taken their share of the deal, would be obligated to step in.
Charles looked troubled. "But I don't have manpower. The few people I've got aren't nearly enough to sweep through the whole capital. We'd be better off locking down the city and conducting a full military search."
Jaemar waved a hand, eyes serious.
"No! That won't work! Even with thousands of troops, we might not find anything. What I need right now is expertise—and you have it."
Charles raised an eyebrow. "I do?"
"You do!"
"Charles, the Profane Convenant has been on the Church's wanted list for years. The only reason they've lasted this long is their unmatched ability to stay hidden. Ordinary people have no chance of finding them using standard thods—but you're different!"
"You were the High Priest of the Society of Ten Thousand Secrets! You evaded the Church's pursuit for over a decade, and even then they only ever found a few faint traces of you.
Which ans when it cos to 'how to hide as a cultist and evade investigation'—you're not just an expert, you could publish textbooks on the subject!!
That's why we need you. Use your professional expertise—apply your knowledge of cultist concealnt—and identify the places in the capital most ideal for hiding. Then we'll investigate them one by one."
Staring at Jaemar, who was practically glowing with admiration, Charles nearly gave an acceptance speech: "I will—"
But thinking of his status, and the fact he'd still need to rely on him in the future, he held back. Besides… he really was an expert. In that field, he was unquestionably top-tier.
So, swallowing his pride and keeping a straight face, Charles replied calmly, "Fine. Get the most detailed map of the capital, along with all related construction reports. I'll mark everything for you."
His aura was that of a seasoned grandmaster—radiating confidence.
Though truth be told, he'd been so focused on going straight lately that he'd almost forgotten he had this particular talent…
Jaemar simply chuckled and nodded. "Then I'll trouble you. I'll have my n prepare the map and docunts imdiately."
---
In a carriage, after leaving the royal residence of Crown Prince Jaemar, Bishop Saphir sat silently, his expression somber.
Harlica, a seasoned cleric from the Church's heresy purification Division, sensed sothing unusual.
After a brief hesitation, he cautiously asked, "Bishop, is sothing wrong?"
Saphir glanced at him, then sighed and shook his head.
"Oh, there's definitely sothing wrong. I just don't know exactly what. Our dear Prince Jaemar is hiding sothing from us…"
Everyone in the carriage was one of his personal confidants from his own diocese, so he didn't mind speaking freely.
"I originally planned to use the threat of a demon summoning as a pretext—to test the prince's response and see if we could reintegrate the Church's influence into the capital. But Jaemar… he was far too cooperative. It's like he's handing us benefits on a silver platter.
I hadn't even fully explained the Profane Convenant situation or laid out the consequences—yet he already agreed to let us establish a Church district in the capital. That's extrely suspicious. For a greedy noble, it's almost unheard of!
After all, the Mardain royal family went to great lengths to drive out our influence and consolidate their own authority—not hesitating to bleed resources to enlist aid from other principalities. Jaemar has no reason to destroy the achievents of his ancestors…"
Harlica frowned. Even he felt sothing was off. But as soone who had devoted his life to purging heresy, politics wasn't his strong suit. So he guessed randomly, "Maybe he pushed Yharnis too far and now he's desperate for allies?"
Saphir imdiately shook his head. "Impossible. Given the typical hostility between royal families and the Church, even if Mardain needed allies, we'd never be their first pick.
Which ans Jaemar is hiding sothing critical from us.
Allowing us to set up a Church district… it's a lure. One I'd bite even knowing sothing was wrong."
He turned to another clergyman and ordered, "Send word to Yat. When he cos to the Mardain, he is to bring the best heretic hunters and all sacred relics.
If Jaemar wants us to deal with the Profane Convenant, then we'll show him just what the Church has accumulated over the past few millennia…"
_____
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