The next day unfolded as uneventfully as I had expected, with one concerning exception: the child looked noticeably sickly. His usually radiant complexion was pale, and there was a weariness in his movents that he struggled to hide. His condition worried , though I refrained from questioning him outright. He was back in my room for our little playti, sitting on my bed with a mixture of unease and curiosity.
When he finally climbed onto the soft mattress, his expression transford entirely. He bounced lightly, testing the unfamiliar sensation as if he’d never experienced sothing like it before. For the first ti in a while, his face lit up with genuine happiness, though it only made the contrast to his earlier deanor more pronounced.
"This is so soft!" he squealed, his voice tinged with childlike wonder.
The innocence on his face made him look even younger, and I couldn’t stop myself from asking the question lingering in my mind.
"Don’t you have a bed like this?"
He froze mid-bounce, the light in his eyes dimming almost instantly. He looked down at his hands, suddenly quiet, as though my question had unearthed a mory he wanted to bury.
"What’s wrong?" I asked gently, though the flinch that followed made it clear I had touched a sensitive topic.
"Nothing," he whispered, his voice so low it was almost inaudible.
I narrowed my eyes, my concern deepening. Activating my Mana Eyes, I tried to analyze him for any physical or magical ailnt, but once again, the cursed mana-canceling cuffs interfered, making it impossible to discern the exact cause of his condition. It could also have been the dark spell on his tongue, a cruel enchantnt that limited his speech and possibly more.
A surge of anger flared within as I thought about the despicable individual who had cast that spell. If I ever found them, I wouldn’t hesitate to tear them apart. For now, though, I had to focus on the child. Silas hadn’t reported back to yet with the answers I needed, and while I was growing impatient, I knew it was better to wait and get the right information than to act rashly.
"Do you want to remove those shackles?" I asked, pointing at the cuffs around his ankles.
The question startled him, and he quickly pulled his legs under his body, trying to hide them. "No... it’s fine," he said, though his voice betrayed his discomfort.
"Doesn’t it hinder your movents? Your power?" I pressed.
"It’s better if I wear this..." he muttered, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor.
"Why?"
He didn’t answer, avoiding my gaze entirely. His silence only added to my frustration and concern. With a sigh, I reached out and placed my hand gently on his head, ruffling his soft, ssy hair.
"I’ve taken responsibility for you, child," I said firmly. "And I an to keep my word until my last breath."
His head lifted slowly, his large, doe-like eyes eting mine. They were filled with an uncertainty that tugged at my heart. I let out another soft sigh, deciding to reassure him further.
"Tell , what’s the problem, child? You don’t have to worry about or yourself. I’m here, and I will be by your side, even if I have to start a war for you."
His lower lip trembled, and sothing flickered in his blue eyes—a mixture of hope and despair. Then, with a quiet sniffle, he reached out and grabbed my sleeve, burying his face in my lap.
The sight broke a little. I could only imagine the weight of the suffering he carried, the pain that forced him to shed tears silently, without a single sound escaping his lips. I stroked his hair gently, my other hand brushing over his back in soothing motions as he trembled against .
After what felt like an eternity, his sobs subsided. He looked up at , his face flushed red, his puffy, bloodshot eyes glistening with unshed tears. Snot trailed from his nose, and for a fleeting mont, I felt the corners of my lips twitch upward in amusent.
"You look like a ss," I said, handing him a handkerchief.
He took it sheepishly, wiping his face. I waited for him to calm down completely before asking, "What are you allowed to tell ?"
"I... wasn’t found at the Holy Place," he said hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper.
My brows furrowed. "What?"
"They..." He faltered, unable to complete his sentence. Frustration clawed at , but I kept my tone even.
"Where did they find you?"
"I’m five years old," he said instead, his words coming out in stilted pauses, as though he was carefully choosing what he could reveal.
He was younger than I’d thought. "And where were you before they found you?"
"I didn’t have parents..." He hesitated again before adding, "His Holiness the Pope found ."
I clenched my fists at the ntion of the Pope. "Did he find you in a good place or a bad one?"
The child glanced at and hesitated, his lips twitching as though battling against the spell’s constraints. Finally, he nodded faintly. "Bad," he admitted.
A bad place. My mind raced through the possibilities. He didn’t have parents, so perhaps he ca from a slum. But I had to tread carefully with my questions.
"Were you from the slums?" I asked.
He shook his head.
"The black market?"
He stilled, his lack of response answering for him.
My stomach churned. The black market—a place notorious for trafficking rare and powerful individuals, including children. But why had the Pope taken him?
"Were you sold to the black market because of your abilities?"
Again, no response.
"Was there another reason?" I asked, though I didn’t expect an answer. His head hung low, his silence heavy with unspoken truths.
I exhaled sharply, frustration bubbling within . At least I had a lead. If the black market was involved, I could have Lyall and Damon investigate. It wouldn’t be easy—the Pope would never risk exposing himself publicly—but I trusted my team to dig up what I needed.
"It’s all right. This much is enough for now. I’ll find the rest," I said, my voice softer. The child looked up at with a troubled expression, his large eyes brimming with guilt.
"Don’t give that look, child," I said firmly. "Once you’re free from this, I’ll take you to a safe and happy place."
His eyes brightened, hope swirling in their depths. "Will you... be with ?" he asked hesitantly.
I smiled. "Yes. I’ll be there, along with many kind people who will protect you."
His smile faltered, a shadow passing over his features. I noticed the flicker of doubt in his eyes, but I didn’t press him. Instead, I decided to lift his spirits another way.
"As for your na," I said, watching his expression shift to curiosity. "I’ve thought of one. But I’ll give it to you after I’ve uncovered the truth and freed you from those shackles."
A small, genuine smile spread across his lips, and it ward my heart.
After he left, I contacted Lyall, instructing him to investigate the black market lead. He assured he’d report back as soon as he had sothing concrete.
---
Later that night, I returned to the High Priest’s office, this ti in my Ocean’s male form, complete with my mask. Standing before the now-familiar bookshelf, I reached for the black-spined book. The shelf slid aside, revealing the tunnel once more.
"Let’s see what secrets you’re hiding," I muttered, stepping inside. The passage closed behind with a soft thud, trapping in the dimly lit corridor.
The air was thick and heavy, carrying the earthy scent of old stone and damp earth. The mana stones lining the walls cast a faint, eerie glow, illuminating my path as I moved forward.
Eventually, I reached the barrier—a shimring, almost invisible veil of energy that marked the entrance to sothing far more secure. Beyond it, I could see a large tal door made of mana-canceling alloy. I approached cautiously, my curiosity burning brighter with each step.
Reaching out, I pressed my hand against the cold surface. Instantly, my spells faltered, and I felt my disguise vanish. Glancing down, I saw my true form once more, the spells useless against the door’s enchantnts.
"How tempting it is to just break you down," I muttered, withdrawing my hand. The spells returned, but the encounter left both frustrated and intrigued. What could the Temple be hiding that required such extre security?
This was no ordinary door. It had to be guarding sothing significant, sothing worth all this trouble. My curiosity only deepened, but I knew better than to act impulsively. If I wanted to uncover the truth, I’d need to plan my next move carefully. This must be sothing very important for the Temple, it could even be the room where they keep the records of their bad deeds.
For now, I left the tunnel, already formulating the chaos I would unleash on the Temple to get to that door.
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