Episode 208

I had never been good with faces or names. Even so, there was no way I could forget someone with such a distinctive look, attire, and voice. I was also certain I had seen him not too long ago.

I hummed under my breath.

“If you’re having trouble deciding, I can prepare today’s recommended course for you,” said the man beside me, who looked very much like a waiter.

He must have mistaken my hesitation for indecision.

I gave him a vague nod and turned my attention back to the Bishop.

According to Morland, this man’s name was Hellstar. The name felt almost blasphemous for the Pope’s son, but that hardly mattered now.

The men gathered around him appeared to be of similar age. They wore clerical robes, yet none of them looked the least bit priestly. Even the Great Master of Theology from my family, Junian, would seem saintly compared to this crowd.

Hellstar drank noisily and laughed, then his gaze settled on me. A mocking smile tugged at his lips. He glanced around, making sure he had an audience before speaking. “By the way, this tavern isn’t quite what I expected.”

“What do you mean?” someone asked.

“To maintain the image of refinement and luxury, one must also be selective with the clientele. Tsk, tsk.”

The barb was meant for me. My clothes weren’t shabby, but compared to these self-styled clergymen weighed down with gold and silver, I must have looked plain.

“Huh?”

I had heard that manner of speaking before. Ah.

“The Abyss Auction isn’t the same as it used to be.”

“I can’t believe they gave a membership card to brats like these.”

I realized that the jewelry Hellstar was wearing looked somewhat familiar. Of course—I had seen it at the auction house. More precisely, before the auction itself, in the waiting room of the magic tower. He was the pig who had picked a fight with us then.

He looked different now, but that was no surprise. A man like him would have the means to alter his appearance. I never imagined we would cross paths again in a place like this.

A chuckle escaped me. I hadn’t come here with any grand plans, but what seemed like misfortune could turn into an unexpected blessing. Things would be easier than I thought.

***

Shortly after, the recommended course arrived. It looked delicious and costly, though the portions were predictably meager. I hadn’t planned it that way, but I was glad I had eaten my fill at the student cafeteria earlier.

I ate without fuss, shoving food into my mouth while glancing at Hellstar now and then with a crooked grin. That was enough to stir whispers among the nearby group.

“Apparently, she’s interested in Bishop Hellstar?”

What a revolting delusion, I grumbled inwardly.

“No, not a girl—it’s a boy.”

“What?”

“Look carefully. His features are sharp, and he has an Adam’s apple.”

“Y-yes, you’re right.”

Hellstar, just as at the auction, had an ego too fragile to withstand even my stare. By the time I finished eating, he had risen and stalked toward me, his face contorted with irritation.

“Forgive me, but which noble family do you come from?” he asked.

Lineage. Of course, it’s the first thing out of his mouth. Consistency is one virtue he has. I sipped my cold water without a word.

One of his followers immediately bristled. “How dare you! Do you even know who this is?”

“The youngest Bishop of the Seventy-Two Churches, Hellstar. The Pope’s youngest son,” I answered.

The response startled them.

“I’m the youngest son too. As fellow youngest sons, let’s get along.”

“Hah.” Hellstar’s mouth curled in disdain. “Do you want a connection with me? If circumstances allow, that might be possible. But you still haven’t answered my question.”

“My family name? That is a bit—”

Hellstar interrupted, “Difficult to reveal? That is a tired excuse. If you came from a prestigious family with notable contributions to the empire, you’d have no reason to hesitate. In fact, I’ve heard Cartel Academy even accepts commoners now. It’s ridiculous. The fate of a leader is decided at birth.

“Still, this much is clear. Your silence already proves your lowly origins. In the name of the gods, I command you to kneel and confess your sins. Do so, and I will grant mercy.”

“Kneel? For what crime?” I asked.

“For daring to set your baseborn eyes upon the apostle of the gods. Be grateful I don’t pluck out your eyeballs,” he said.

“What a lunatic,” I remarked.

Hellstar’s face contorted even more. His sycophants braced to shout, but I cut them short by pointing my fork in their direction. “That’s disappointing. Have you already forgotten? We had such a wonderful time last night.”

“What did you say?”

I smiled gently and shaped a pig’s snout with my middle finger. “Oink, oink.”

Hellstar froze. He looked idiotic, but at least not entirely clueless.

Meanwhile, his followers erupted in outrage.

“You are an insolent fool to the end!”

“I see the academy’s true standard of education! What kind of lessons produce a mere student bold enough to insult a Bishop?”

“The dean… No, the acting dean! I will thoroughly investigate this matter with him. Your insignificant family will also face the gods’ divine punishment—”

“W-wait a minute!” Hellstar hurriedly silenced his followers.

Those competing to prove their loyalty froze and stared at their master with wide eyes.

Hellstar broke out in a sweat, clearing his throat with an awkward cough. “There’s no need to pressure him like that. He’s still just a child, after all. Haha.”

“What?”

“I-I will have a word with this boy alone. You can all step down for now,” Hellstar instructed.

“But—”

“Now that I see him again, I realize he has a familiar face.”

His expression, tone, gestures, and laugh were all equally forced. Yet his followers, eager to obey even if he told them to sip sewer water, nodded and withdrew.

Hellstar even dismissed the waitstaff. When the tavern fell completely silent, he turned to me.

“W-who are you?” His tone grew far harsher. He had cast aside the last scrap of his polished facade, and somehow it suited him better than the noble airs he had put on earlier.

I smiled. “You still don’t know who I am, even after I showed you the pig’s snout?”

“I know you’re the one who mocked me at the auction house! But that isn’t what I’m asking!”

I almost laughed at how easily he admitted it. Was he more foolish than I thought?

No. This was why he had sent everyone away. Even if he confessed here, he could always deny it later.

Sinister bastard. I had heard the Pope of the Seventy-Two Churches was well respected. How could a man like that have such a wretched son?

Um… Then again, the Iron-Blooded Lord had plenty of strange children, myself included. It wasn’t that strange.

“Your true identity! I am asking what your name is and who your family is!” he demanded.

“My family?” I sighed and shook my head with open disgust.

He misread it, and a slight smile crossed his face as he shouted, “Yes, I understand! You don’t want this to escalate, do you? Name your price for silence. I’ll pay it. So long as you don’t push me further on this—”

“Shut your trap. I came here to ask you something.”

“What?”

“You came to the academy for a reason. I doubt it was to eat at a tavern like this.” I fixed my eyes on him. “There are hero disciples who were gravely injured fighting the demon king. They need immediate treatment. What exactly are you doing here?”

“Hah. So that’s what you’re after…” Hellstar looked at me with scorn. “Do you think replenishing divine power is easy? It’s nothing like the mana mages or martial artists use. Divine power can only be restored through sincere prayer! And healing on the level of a Bishop requires countless benefits in exchange. Yet this mission…”

Hellstar gritted his teeth and said indignantly, “I’m supposed to heal them without receiving anything? Hah! Even His Holiness the Pope is cruel! How could he think of squandering a Bishop’s divine power like this?”

In his own way, he was a realist.

I had never trusted nobles, and I trusted religious figures even less. I knew exactly what they demanded in exchange for faith. Still, Hellstar’s true nature left me speechless.

Normally, I would have laughed bitterly. This time, I couldn’t even sneer.

“The hero disciples fought with their lives on the line,” I said quietly. “They didn’t expect anything in return. They faced demons, and above all, they protected the students trapped in the Otherworld. And you want to demand compensation from those who came back injured?”

“If it was something hero disciples could handle, then it couldn’t have been such a catastrophe,” he rebuked. “From what I’ve heard, many of them come from Great Families. Perhaps they twisted or exaggerated the facts to glorify their own children.”

This fellow was truly remarkable. That alone forced a laugh out of me as heat rushed to my head.

Hellstar continued, “In any case, if that’s your concern, I’ve heard enough. Keep the Abyss Auction to yourself and speak no further.”

“Sit down.”

“What?”

“I said, sit.”

Hellstar must have sensed a change in my voice. He stared at me before scoffing. “How rude. Do you know who you’re standing in front of right—”

I didn’t let him finish. I stood and seized the back of his head. The moment I caught the flicker of doubt in his eyes, I yanked his hair and slammed his face against the table.

The table cracked, and plates shattered. Fortunately, the wood was fine enough to hold with only a split, unlike the crockery, which scattered into pieces.

Hellstar groaned. “What is this—”

I cut him off by driving his face down again. I struck his head against the table five times before stopping. His face had flushed red.

“Oh…”

To my surprise, it healed almost immediately.

I couldn’t help laughing at the sight. “You talk about benefits and compensation, yet you can’t stomach a few scratches? You won’t die from this.”

There were always people like him. They ignored when others lost limbs, but panicked over a nick on themselves.

I warned, “From now on, you are forbidden to use divine power until I say otherwise.”

Still dazed, Hellstar glared at me with bloodshot eyes. “I-I’ll kill you! Not only you! Your family, your friends, your lover… I’ll slaughter everyone tied to you right before your eyes—”

“Setting aside whether those empty threats mean anything, how do you plan to manage that once you lose your position as Bishop?” I asked.

“What?”

“I’ll report that a Bishop of the Seventy-Two Churches joined an illegal auction.”

Hellstar sneered. “Do you think His Holiness will believe you? Do you know how much he favors me?”

Favored him? His choice of words had grown cruder. Honestly, this fit him far better than the pious tone he tried to force.

I told him, “And no, I’m not going to tell the Pope.”

“W-what?”

“Are you the only one with a father? I have one too.”

I removed the Linchal Mask. My frail, delicate frame, which could barely hold a sword, reshaped into a body with defined muscle.

I set the mask on the table. “My face has become somewhat known these days. Recognize me?”

“Platinum-blond hair and purple eyes? No, it can’t be…”

“Exactly. I am—”

“G-Golden Fairy! Golden Fairy Luan Badniker…!”

Don’t say it twice. I slammed his face into the table once more in frustration, and blood spread across his features once more.

He groaned again and stammered, “T-the father you mentioned—”

“Obvious, isn’t it?”

Hellstar suddenly burst into crazed laughter.

Has he already gone mad?

I watched, faintly surprised, as he looked at me, then collapsed to his knees with a heavy thud. “Please spare me.”

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