Chapter 274

Chapter 274

“You’re here, Schlieffen.”

Ronan spoke as if it was no surprise that Schlieffen had shown up, despite telling him not to. As expected, it didn’t shock him at all. Schlieffen’s face hardened into a stony expression as he took in the scene around him.

“What the...!”

Though the blood had been cleaned up, the house still presented a horrific sight. Headless bodies lay strewn across the floor, and the deep slashes marking every surface made it hard to believe that this was the same place where he and Iril had spent time together. Schlieffen’s mouth slowly opened in shock.

“...Iril.”

He murmured her name, staring off into space as if he had lost everything in the world. His pale skin made his reddened eyes stand out even more. The composed and cold demeanor he usually carried had long since vanished.

“Ronan.”

Schlieffen finally turned to look at him. He staggered forward, but before he could reach Ronan, the door banged open behind him. Adeshan entered, her expression alarmed.

“Schlieffen! You can’t just leave the battlefield—ah?!”

Her face also froze as she took in the scene. It seemed the two of them had been in the same place when Ronan had called for backup.

Adeshan covered her mouth with her hand, her voice trembling as it slipped through her fingers.

“Ronan...what is this...?”

“It’s just as I told you. But thanks for coming quickly.”

Ronan forced a smile. He could sense multiple presences just outside the house. It seemed Adeshan had brought a pursuit team as he had requested. Judging by Kratir’s voice among the mix, they had arrived through spatial magic.

A dreadful silence settled over the room. Adeshan quickly silenced the murmuring pursuit team with a telepathic message. It was Schlieffen who finally broke the silence.

“...Explain the situation.”

“I get how you’re feeling, but calm down, man. Your energy is making my hair stand on end.”

Ronan grimaced. The oppressive atmosphere made it hard to breathe. The killing intent radiating from Schlieffen’s shoulders was nearly as intense as that of Zaifa or Orsay. A slow, heavy wind circled him, as if a hurricane was about to erupt and engulf the entire capital.

‘This is almost like back then.’

The wind felt like it could transform into a tempest at any moment, ready to devastate everything. Adeshan’s face turned ghostly white.

The aura was on par with that of Schlieffen at the peak of his power, back when he was known as the greatest swordsman on the continent. Was this what cold fury looked like? Ronan spoke again.

“You know it’s not your fault.”

Schlieffen clenched his teeth at Ronan’s words. The grinding sound of his teeth echoed through the room. Eventually, the killing intent subsided, and the turbulent wind settled down.

Though the atmosphere was still chilling, Ronan knew that this was Schlieffen’s way of doing his best. Despite the situation, Ronan acknowledged that Schlieffen, having been raised in a noble house, was far better at controlling his emotions than he was. Ronan continued.

“There’s not much to explain. It’s exactly as I said before. But if there’s anything I didn’t mention, it’s that the one who took my sister was the leader of Nebula Clazier.”

“The... the leader?!”

Adeshan’s eyes widened in shock. Schlieffen’s face grew even more tense. His lips quivered like someone suffering from an anxiety attack as he asked Ronan.

“...Is she alive?”

“I’m not sure. But I think she is.”

Ronan shared the information he had gathered before their arrival. Upon hearing that there was no trace of Iril’s blood at the scene, both of their expressions softened slightly.

But that didn’t change the fact that they needed to act quickly to ensure Iril’s safety. After finishing his explanation, Ronan turned to Adeshan.

“By the way, do you have the Blood Tracking Needle? The one we used to track down Barka in the North?”

“Huh? Yeah, I have it, but... why?”

“Give it to me. I need it.”

Ronan extended his hand. His expression was more serious than usual. After a brief moment of rummaging through her belongings, Adeshan handed him the Blood Tracking Needle.

“Here...”

“Thanks.”

Ronan expressed his gratitude. Since Barka’s death, the Blood Tracking Needle had been spinning in place, unable to find a new target.

“I wish my words were only mistaken. But I thought he would have shown himself when Pantasion died...”

Anaciel murmured under his breath. It had been over a month since they had last seen their leader’s face. Every day felt like a nightmare that refused to end.

Somehow, the ignorant masses had learned how to break through the Blessings of the Stars. While there were still skilled individuals capable of wielding their

powers, their numbers were limited.

The Allied Forces, led by Navarrod and the Empire, had driven the organization to the brink of collapse. The continuous losses and deaths of their comrades were starting to take a toll on even the strongest-willed Archbishops.

As they prepared to resume the meeting with heavy sighs, the grand doors to the meeting room suddenly burst open, and a familiar figure stepped inside.

“Good to see you all. How have you been?”

“The Leader!”

The Archbishops’ eyes widened in shock. Archbishop Retancier was the first to spring from his seat, followed closely by the others.

“It’s been a while, Leader!”

They were thrilled to see him after such a long absence. Abel, who had returned after a month, was carrying an unconscious human woman on his back. He spoke nonchalantly.

“I apologize for not being around recently. I’ve been busy with preparations.”

“It’s alright now that you’ve returned, Leader. But what happened to your face... Is that an injury?”

Retancier’s eyes widened as he examined Abel’s face. A diagonal slash marred Abel’s left cheek. Abel chuckled and shook his head.

“It’s nothing. Just a lesson learned.”

“A lesson?”

“Yes. The lesson that the offspring of a beast, no matter how tame they seem, are still beasts. She was fierce.”

Abel chuckled as he recalled the events in the capital. His battle with Iril, armed with nothing but a kitchen knife, had lasted less than a minute.

Although the injury was superficial and he had sustained no other damage, the fact remained that he had exchanged over a hundred blows with her and ended up with a scar. Abel asked.

“Any word from Alibrihe? Still no response?”

“N-No, sir. We haven’t heard from him since Adren... We’re starting to fear he may have perished.”

“That’s unlikely... He must have decided to betray us. What a foolish old man.”

Abel sighed. He had anticipated this possibility, but it was still disappointing to see it unfold. He had thought Alibrihe’s spirit had been completely broken, but perhaps he was wrong. Abel glanced at the Archbishops, then noticed something.

“By the way, where’s Alicia? Is she on a mission?”

“...Alicia died four days ago. Along with Kailasis. They were defeated by a man named Ronan and some of Navarrod’s kin.”

Retancier explained the tragedies that had occurred in Felgrand Mountain and Pancia Fortress. During Abel’s absence, four Archbishops had lost their lives.

Hearing that even Pantasion had fallen, Abel raised an eyebrow. That stag had fallen too? This Empire’s rising star must be something special.

His hands itched to join the fight, but now was not the time. Abel glanced at Iril, who was still unconscious, and sighed deeply.

“It’s unfortunate. This is a big problem. I had planned for Alicia to take care of this, given her delicate nature, but...”

“Pardon? What do you mean by that, sir...?”

Retancier tilted her head in confusion, unable to grasp his meaning. Abel sighed softly as he shifted his gaze to her.

“There’s no other choice. You’ll have to take care of her until we’re ready.”

“P-Pardon?”

“Here. Be careful with her. Make sure she doesn’t get hurt.”

Instead of answering, Abel gently handed Iril over to Retancier. He handled her with the care one would give to a precious piece of jewelry. Iril, still unconscious, was breathing softly in her sleep.

“Who is this...?”

Retancier’s eyes widened as she looked at Iril. She was the most beautiful person she had ever seen, even more so than any human she had encountered in her life. Her white hair was strikingly similar to the leader’s. Abel spoke.

“Take good care of her. She’s going to be our saintess.”