Chapter 133 : Red Eyes (6)
Chapter 133: Red Eyes (6)
“Ughh...”
Windy May quietly inhaled.
She hadn’t wanted to come, but there was simply no way to refuse Yeriel’s request.
Though she was someone who usually hated being tied down by anything...
At the very least, she knew how to separate public and private matters.
That was why she made sure to attend even the pre-meetings meant only for preliminary coordination, not the main negotiations.
‘Hmm.’
Truthfully, she’d made it sound grand, but Windy May didn’t really have much to do.
In reality, it would be Yeriel and Professor Shagas leading the discussions, and she was merely there to fill a seat.
Under normal circumstances, she would’ve just idly passed the time—but not this time.
At some point, she had closed her eyes and was deep in thought.
“……”
Next to her, Yeriel and Professor Shagas were engaged in conversation, but Windy May couldn’t concentrate on their words at all.
It was because of what had just happened to her duplicate.
‘What in the world could that have been?’
Her duplicate vanishing in an instant was certainly not something to take lightly.
Most of all, even though it had been faint, she had sensed a trace of a dragon in that brief moment.
Yes, a dragon.
And so, Windy May's thoughts grew heavier.
‘Hmm.’
The biggest issue was that she couldn’t be certain whether it had been a direct influence or just a residual effect.
There had been so little energy left on the duplicate that it was hard to judge.
Sometimes, when beings as powerful as dragons acted—even with no intention—their mere presence could trigger violent effects on nearby things, like stray sparks.
This could very well be one of those cases.
Not to mention, there were at least three dragons with such overwhelming power currently at the Academy.
‘What should I do...?’
If she investigated directly, everything would become clear.
The problem was that she still had duties to attend to.
And those duties were very, very important.
She considered just creating another duplicate...
But considering what was to come, she had to preserve as much of her power as possible, so she couldn’t afford to casually make duplicates.
‘Can’t really leave it to Yeriel, either.’
Of course, he would probably produce results she’d be satisfied with.
She always teased him for being a bald-headed fool, but he was undeniably a powerful mage—someone who had nearly reached the level just below an archmage.
The problem was that he was currently overwhelmed with responsibilities related to the negotiations.
More than that, he was probably still entangled with the mess involving Airos from a few days ago.
She didn’t want to throw yet another headache on him—especially not one involving a dragon.
‘Professor Shagas is... hmm.’
Windy May gently shook her head.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, but she didn’t know how deep his knowledge went in matters like these.
Besides, they weren’t close enough for her to ask him such a favor.
“Hoo.”
Windy May let out a sigh.
This was getting troublesome.
She needed to find another way.
As she pondered, someone flashed through her mind.
None other than Lian Gwendil.
‘What am I even thinking right now?’
Windy May immediately shook her head.
He was still a student.
If by any chance this matter wasn’t simple... she’d be the one putting him in danger.
‘That won’t do.’
Come to think of it, she hadn’t even properly taught her students yet.
Once this was all over, she would make sure to teach them thoroughly.
Just as she was resolving this—
“Sister, what are you thinking about so deeply?”
At the sound of a voice beside her, Windy May turned her head.
Yeriel had leaned slightly forward and was quietly staring at her.
“I was just feeling sorry for nibbling the leaves of that flowerpot you like so much.”
Yeriel’s eyebrows shot up.
Seeing his face filled with fury, Windy May instantly regretted it.
“...You were the one who did that? That one’s so sensitive. It’s practically allergic to human touch. No wonder it’s been looking sick lately.”
“I used magic to reattach the leaves.”
“You’re supposed to grow it without magic—that’s the whole point. If we’re going to use magic, why even bother watering it with such care?”
“I said I’m sorry...”
Yeriel looked like he wanted to say more, but he let out a small sigh and turned his head.
He had sensed people entering the meeting room.
“...Looks like it’s about to start.”
Windy May let out a small sigh as if agreeing with him.
She had braced herself, but it was still a hassle.
‘I should just keep my mouth shut and stay quiet.’
Resolving herself, Windy May straightened her posture to appear as dignified and mysterious as possible.
How much time had passed?
As she sat there blankly wondering when it would end, she suddenly flinched at the sensation of someone tapping her arm.
“Sister.”
“Mmgh.”
Having unknowingly dozed off, Windy May replied calmly, pretending nothing had happened.
“Yes. Yeriel. Do as you wish.”
Yeriel looked down at her with a baffled expression.
Windy May covered her mouth with her hand, casually fixing her posture.
“It’s already over. We can go now.”
“...Oh, really?”
Windy May, unusually, looked a bit sheepish as she answered.
As she adjusted her position again, she noticed two people still seated.
Looking at them questioningly, Yeriel turned his head slightly to gesture forward.
“They said they wanted to speak with you.”
Windy May lightly turned her gaze.
On one side was a woman wearing a fox mask—she was the Overseer from the demons, participating under the title of Inspector.
And on the other side was a familiar face.
Neat and tidy appearance.
Pale skin.
Yet somehow faint in presence.
Archbishop Onnime.
He was the one who had succeeded Rahma and was set to become the new professor of Crooks, once renowned as an Inquisitor.
She remembered his name from the report sent by the investigation team.
Windy May rose to her feet and muttered softly.
“...Wow, I’m popular, huh.”
Then she casually nudged Yeriel beside her.
“Yeriel, looks like I haven’t lost my charm. Remember how people used to swarm around me back in the day? You were always the one fending them off.”
“...I’ll step outside for a bit. Please, go ahead with your conversation.”
Yeriel got up and walked out, as if he understood.
Now only three remained.
“Who would you prefer to speak first? I don’t mind either way.”
Archbishop Onnime looked at the masked woman as he asked.
“...”
Instead of replying, she silently stood and walked out.
Now only Windy May and Onnime were left.
Windy May placed her arm on the table and looked at him.
“So, what is it you wanted to say to me? If it’s a love confession, I might be in trouble.”
“Hahaha.”
Onnime let out a low laugh.
“You are indeed a charming person, Windy May, but I fear I wouldn’t be able to handle you. You’re far too much for someone like me.”
“Hmm.”
“But if Lady Windy May were to convert to the Holy Sun Church, I’d be willing to try—even if it meant shattering every bone in my body.”
“Um, no. That won’t be necessary.”
Windy May waved her hand.
Even from this brief conversation, she felt she could already tell what kind of person he was.
Someone completely immune to jokes.
Her absolute opposite.
Windy May felt a tinge of fatigue.
“Is that so? A shame.”
Despite his words, he didn’t look the least bit disappointed.
With a faint smile, he opened his mouth again.
“Then, before we begin the main discussion, let me first give you this.”
Archbishop Onnime quietly took something from inside his robe and placed it on the table.
Two scrolls sealed with black wax.
Pointing to them, he spoke in a calm voice.
“First, allow me to apologize for the delay. This is compensation, offered in atonement for an unfortunate incident.”
Windy May tilted her head slightly.
“Compensation?”
“Yes.”
“What are these?”
“They’re indulgences.”
At his reply, Windy May’s brow creased slightly.
Indulgences.
They were not something handed out lightly.
Even she had never seen one in person before.
“Indulgences?”
“Yes.”
Onnime nodded.
“Even if someone were a Cultist of the Evil God, presenting this would place them beyond our reach.”
Still composed, Onnime continued.
“Also—Lian Gwendil. And Cecilia Everglenn. These were meant to be given to those two. Coincidentally, they’re both your students, Lady Windy May. I thought it would be appropriate to deliver them together here, so I ask your understanding.”
Windy May quietly stared at the scrolls for a moment before slowly reaching out and picking them up.
So, he knows those two are my students.
‘I wasn’t exactly trying to hide it...’
Her expression grew colder at the clearly deliberate choice of words.
Still, since they were items she needed to accept, she slipped the scrolls into her robe.
“So what was the original matter these were meant to address?”
At her question, Onnime took in a slow breath.
“We discovered traces of the Cultists of the Evil God.”
“Traces. ‘Discovered’—as in past tense?”
“Yes, we were too late. By the time we raided the location, they had all been massacred.”
“Hm?”
Windy May slowly lifted her gaze and looked at Onnime.
Her eyes seemed to ask what that had to do with her.
“At first, we thought it was a dragon. But thanks to the investigators who were with us at the scene, we realized it had been cunningly staged. It was—”
“Just the main point.”
Onnime nodded.
“They were killed by humans.”
He murmured in a composed tone.
“By other Cultists of the Evil God.”
“……”
Her mind was already a mess from the duplicate’s disappearance and the possible trace of a dragon’s presence.
Now this man had brought an even more annoying issue.
Windy May frowned deeply at him.
“Cough.”
Yuran let out a short cough.
It wasn’t a dry one—rather, it was thick, wet, and ominous.
“...Ah.”
Looking down at the hand she had used to cover her mouth, she saw it was soaked in red.
Blackened blood.
“……”
Yuran silently washed her hands in the running water.
The metallic scent of blood lingered heavily in her mouth.
‘...What in the world is happening to me?’
It had started after she had blocked the dragon’s attack in the Forest of Secrets, causing the energy in her body to reverse.
Since then, her body hadn’t recovered.
This had never happened before, and Yuran couldn’t hide how disturbed she felt.
No matter how many spells and charms she used, there was no sign of improvement.
Her body had slowly begun to collapse since the Red Eyes appeared.
More precisely, her condition had rapidly worsened after she performed the ritual to reverse it.
To the point of coughing up blood within a single day.
‘And just now, that unease I felt...’
A wave of unsettling energy with no clear source.
The moment she felt it, her body had suddenly collapsed, as if her energy had been violently ripped away.
It had happened so fast that she hadn’t even had time to react.
“Hoo...”
She let out a short sigh.
Just a bit more. She told herself this again and again as she steadied her breath.
Lian would be arriving any moment now.
‘A miracle...’
She had brushed it off at the time, but she remembered that when Lian had invoked a miracle with his blessing, she had felt at least a slight improvement.
That was why she had asked him—despite the imposition—if he could bless her once more.
Contrary to her concerns, Lian had agreed without hesitation.
She had been waiting for him to arrive when she was suddenly overtaken by nausea, rushing to the restroom—only to find herself coughing up blood again.
“Huhu...”
Yuran let out a bitter laugh without realizing it, finally grasping just how dire her situation had become.
Should she return home for treatment?
No, in this condition, she probably couldn’t even make the journey back.
Thinking how pathetic she had become, she lifted her head...
“...Huh?”
Her reflection in the mirror.
The moment she saw it, her eyes shook violently in disbelief, widening as far as they could go.
Her eyes.
They were still black.
Not red.
It wasn’t her eyes that had changed.
“Ah, aaah...”
Her forehead.
There, a small but unmistakable horn had sprouted.
As far as she knew, there were only two races with horns.
Demons and devils.
Just those two.
Red Eyes.
A horn on her forehead.
Her body began to tremble.
No way.
No way...
“T-That... That can’t be...”
She muttered in terror, completely consumed by fear.
Knock knock knock.
The sound of knocking at the door.
It was a soft sound, yet it startled her so much she immediately hugged herself with both arms.
“...Yuran? Are you in there?”
It was Lian Gwendil.
The moment she realized it was him, Yuran became more terrified than ever.
The Holy Sun Church.
They were a group that hated demons as much as anyone—perhaps more.