#25. I Will Purify You
While Olivia hurried to meet the person from the Kingdom of Norden, the outskirts of the capital were quiet under the crimson sunset, with only the faint smoke from evening fires drifting in the air. Normally, the area would be filled with the voices of parents calling their children and chatter from those returning home late. But as the number of disappearances and those who never returned increased, people withdrew, avoiding going out. Of course, they still had to make a living during the day, but once night fell, everyone hurried home, nervously checking their surroundings.
And the one who had driven them into such fear was calmly welcoming the evening—his face that of a normal, familiar neighbor. No, on the surface, he appeared perfectly ordinary…
Click, clunk-clunk, creeaak.
The man opened and closed a box filled with items taken from those sacrificed to the Ancient God, dragging it back and forth. His eyes were half-rolled back in a frenzy.
“Taren, Taren, Taren, Tarentarentarentarentaren!”
Bang!
He slammed the box down and looked upward with gleaming eyes. Licking his dry lips, he grinned so wide it looked painful.
“I’ve finally found it.”
His final prey, the last sacrifice needed to summon his god: Anbruch Taren.
At first, he had only planned to extort money. But now…
He fondled the pouch of money Anbruch had given him today, licking his upper lip. Soft, pink hair. An immaculate smile. A voice and expression filled only with goodwill. And those clear sky-blue eyes—so innocent, like a child’s.
“She’ll make the perfect final offering.”
He had always dreamed of the end, but had never specifically chosen someone to be that final sacrifice—until now.
A young lady from the Taren family, no less. Kidnapping her would be like plucking a star from the sky.
“The harder the sacrifice is to obtain, the more meaningful it will be.”
And tonight, the eve of that final offering would begin.
Creeeaak.
The box door groaned open, revealing two empty spaces.
“One… and another.”
Places reserved for the sacrifices to be offered to the Ancient God tonight. As the man ran his hand over the empty slots—
Knock knock.
“Big brother. Mom told me to give this to you.”
The child handing him a basket was the one who had recently said her mother was having a hard time.
“You didn’t need to do this…”
Inside the basket were a couple of dry, shriveled loaves of bread and two sprouted potatoes.
But the man, knowing this was likely the last of what the mother and daughter had, gently patted the child’s head.
The child twitched her eyebrows, lips parting slightly.
The man knelt to her eye level and softly caressed her forehead.
“Don’t worry. After tonight, you won’t have to worry about anything.”
The child tilted her head, rubbing the spot he’d touched, as if something had been drawn there.
And then—
“Tonight?”
Looking down at her blinking eyes, the man spoke again.
“Wait here for just a moment.”
Leaving the obediently nodding child outside, he returned with soft white bread and a thin, digestible soup—the food his neighbor had given him, grumbling about creaky chairs.
“Take this and eat. You’ll need some strength.”
Though she didn’t understand the meaning, her eyes were fixed on the food.
As he wiped away the drool forming at the edge of her cracked lips, he smiled as kindly as he could.
“Eat this well, and come back here at dawn. Don’t be separated from your mother.”
He handed her a small note—not with words, but a simple picture anyone could recognize.
Not the already-dug empty lot, but a much smaller, far more hidden place…
Taking the note with a radiant, dry smile, the child beamed.
“Okay! Thank you, big brother! I’m glad I talked to you. Mommy won’t cry as much now!”
And with that, she happily left.
And as luck would have it—for the man, that is—no one had seen the child visit.
Looking around carefully, the man nodded in satisfaction.
Now, the fact that people didn’t even glance out their windows after dark had become a blessing in disguise.
Once the child disappeared from sight, he returned inside and stood before the box again.
As he touched the empty space, he whispered:
“You should be grateful. I will purify you and your mother.”
His lips curled into an unnaturally wide grin, his eyes glistening with madness.
And a few hours later, in the secluded little clearing drawn on the note:
Thud.
“Big brother? Why are you—”
The child’s eyes widened in disbelief as she trembled, but the man only grinned wider, grabbing her head.
“I will purify you. Now go to sleep.”
“N-No! Mommy, mo—!”
Thud.
That night, the man’s ritual to summon the Ancient God imprisoned two sacrifices on his secret altar—leaving only the final one remaining.
Early morning, after a blood-scented night.
No, it was more like dawn—dim light crept in, and no one would argue if it was still night.
Olivia now faced the man who had arrived from the Kingdom of Norden the previous night—and fainted before she even got a proper look at him.
Yes, she was facing a man.
There was no way this was a daughter.
Narrowing her eyes, Olivia stared at him.
“…His Highness commands that…”
The man from Norden—more precisely, the crown prince—was droning on about his sovereign’s wishes.
But Olivia let the words go in one ear and out the other.
Why would a crown prince matter?
She had expected a mage—or at least his daughter—to come.
It was a matter involving the Ancient God. Of course they had to come.
Unless…?
Leaning on her chin with an indifferent face, Olivia blinked quickly.
If they didn’t come despite the urgency, there had to be a reason.
There could be countless reasons a mage—or his daughter—might be unable to move.
The Kingdom of Norden was probably in chaos, preparing for a sudden royal funeral.
And if, by any chance, the royal family had discovered the truth about the Ancient God, the mage might be lying low.
Or perhaps they were both sick and physically unable to travel.
But she wanted to confirm at least one thing.
“I have a question.”
Cutting him off mid-sentence, Olivia asked:
“Is a similar incident to the one happening in the Empire occurring in your kingdom?”
It was a clear question. Even someone half-deaf could answer:
Yes. Or No.
But the man replied with an irrelevant platitude.
“We thank the Empire for its concern. His Highness wishes for the swift capture of the criminal—”
A deep crease formed between Olivia’s brows.
She raised a hand to silence him.
“You haven’t answered my question. I’ll ask again: Are there serial disappearances or murders occurring in Norden?”
Finally, he answered.
“No.”
And as Olivia watched him, she felt something… off.
She had survived four continental wars, and evaded Cryer’s sword four times.
Observing someone—or something—with precision was second nature to her.
She had accumulated years of experience, honed by near-death encounters.
That was why she noticed it—something odd, subtle, in the man’s behavior.
Not just the weird answer. That could’ve been a diplomatic ploy.
But…
“Tch.”
Olivia clicked her tongue and accidentally spilled some tea toward him.
She had to check her suspicion.
Though it wasn’t scalding, the tea hit his face directly.
And yet, he didn’t blink.
“You okay?”
Olivia’s voice was nonchalant.
The man nodded calmly.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
A crooked smile crept across Olivia’s lips.
There’s no way he was fine.
The tea might not have soaked him completely, but it definitely hit his unblinking eyes.
Definitely strange.
As the attendants quietly cleaned up—
Knock knock.
“Come in.”
With Olivia’s permission, Cryer entered the room.
He appeared as a perfectly ordinary knight.
But the overwhelming presence of a beast with fierce fangs and claws was carefully hidden beneath that façade.
Except… his shoulders were steel-hard, and his face—deemed “needlessly handsome” by Olivia—had made a princess fall in love at first sight.
As Cryer stepped in, the man from Norden—who had been smiling like he was wearing a mask—showed his first change in expression.
His eyes, which hadn’t blinked once, widened to the point of tearing as they landed on Cryer.
Deep within those eyes—deeper than where his soul resided—Greta’s eyes sparkled purely.
Ah, finally.
To see Cryer, whose image had been seared into her memory even with her eyes closed…
Even though she couldn’t meet him in person, watching him move overwhelmed Greta with emotion.
But Cryer didn’t spare the man even a glance.
He walked directly to Olivia, eyes only for her.
“Glory to the Empire.”
Olivia bowed gracefully in return.
“Cryer.”
At the sound of his name, the man’s pupils trembled—but the moment was so brief, no one noticed.
“You came at the perfect time.”
Olivia naturally pulled Cryer to her side and gestured to the man.
“How about saying hello to a fellow countryman after such a long time?”
