“Ah, no—guess it’s ‘good afternoon’ now, isn’t it?”
“You… how are you…?”
The priest stared in disbelief. He had seen the poisoned dart hit.
Henry looked back at him with a calm, amused smile—eyes steady, voice relaxed.
Of course, he hadn’t survived on his own.
As he took a step closer to the bars separating them, Henry thought of the person who had helped him.
Now standing face to face with the priest, Henry dropped his smile and whispered coldly,
“I told you, didn’t I? You’d regret it.”
“……”
“Try to kill me one more time, and I’ll tell them everything. That you’re the mole.”
A chill ran down the priest’s spine.
He had tried to silence Henry—but now, he was the one whose identity might be exposed.
“I won’t leak anything to the temple. But go tell your superiors—I’m alive, and you’re going to keep me that way.”
****
The priest’s face was stiff as he exited the prison.
Damn it. I was just trying to tie up loose ends—and now I’m the one dangling.
It seemed Henry hadn’t outed him yet.
But now that the leverage was in Henry’s hands, the priest would have to convince the higher-ups to spare him.
If not, he could easily end up just like Henry had been supposed to.
Guess I’ll smoke one while I think—
He reached into his pocket for a cigarette and lighter when a voice interrupted him.
“Hello.”
A woman was speaking to the guard.
She wasn’t dressed like a priest, cleric, or knight.
Although the temple was open to all, this area was off-limits to ordinary civilians.
So that must be the hero candidate who captured Henry Rivette.
Frowning, the priest realized the woman standing before him was the reason he had nearly been exposed.
The guard snapped a salute.
“What brings you here, ma’am?”
“I’m here to interrogate Henry Rivette.”
The priest’s expression froze.
Henry had promised not to reveal the priest’s identity—as long as the higher-ups spared him.
But what if he changed his mind during an interrogation?
The priest silently returned the cigarette to his pocket and stepped forward to block her path.
“I’m afraid I can’t allow that.”
The woman—Elsez—looked at him curiously, eyes narrowing.
The priest quickly followed up, introducing himself.
“I’m Bailor, the priest in charge of this temporary prison.”
“Ah, I see.”
Bailor continued, “As you may know, Henry Rivette is a high-level criminal who betrayed the very principles of a hero and allied with the enemy. Such individuals may only be visited with express permission from the Saintess.”
Only high-ranking priests, the commander of the paladins, or heroes personally trusted by Dike were granted that right.
Even if she passed the hero trial, there hasn’t been enough time for her to be formally appointed… meaning she doesn’t have that level of authority yet.
Elsez clapped her hands lightly, as if only just recalling something.
“Oh, right. Meeting with a high criminal requires the Saintess’s permission, doesn’t it?”
But contrary to Bailor’s expectation, she didn’t back down. She simply smiled, unfazed.
“In that case, I’ll authorize it myself.”
“What? With what authority—?”
“As the one who resolved the incident—Hero Elsez Rohen.”
She pulled aside her collar, revealing the hero’s badge pinned to her chest. Shining clearly in the light.
****
Click.
The door opened, and Henry, hands bound in restraints, entered the room.
Elsez, already seated and waiting, looked up and asked,
“Did you sleep well last night?”
“Thanks to you.”
It was Elsez who had saved Henry from being assassinated.
“Your arm.”
Henry extended his arm as instructed, the one bound in the magical restraint.
Elsez checked the transparent bracelet on his wrist. The detox solution inside had decreased.
She simply noted the change and let go of his arm.
Henry looked at her, puzzled.
“Aren’t you taking it? It’s yours.”
“Just in case—keep it on for now. I’ll get more detox today and refill it.”
Glancing toward the door, Elsez asked,
“That priest outside… he’s the one who tried to kill you, right?”
“You’re sharp. I didn’t even tell you yet.”
“He was bristling when I asked to see you. It wasn’t subtle.”
The night before entering the Holy Nation, Henry had told Elsez what he knew.
“There’s a traitor inside the temple. I didn’t see their face, but they used healing magic and spoke with the Holy Nation’s accent.”
Elsez hadn’t looked the least bit surprised.
Of course there are spies. But why tell me?
“Because I’m not going to be a hero again. Hell, I’ll probably be dead the moment we reach the temple—killed by that mole.”
……
“If I’m going to die quietly, might as well take someone down with me.”
It hadn’t been a plea for mercy, just resignation.
But to his surprise, Elsez had made an offer.
“Henry Rivette. Work with me.”
“…What?”
“I don’t have the power to reduce your brother’s sentence. And even if I did—I wouldn’t.”
……
“You tried to kill me. You turned a blind eye to innocent people dying. You deserve punishment.”
……
“But if even a sliver of your sense of responsibility as a hero still exists…”
……
“And if your desire to protect those villagers was genuine…”
She held out her hand to him.
“Work with me.”
……
“I’ll break this cycle of evil—so no one else has to be sacrificed to it.”
Henry stared blankly at her extended hand and the woman behind it.
In that moment, he felt ashamed of the title “hero” attached to his name.
Because the person in front of him—Elsez Rohen—was what a true hero looked like.
He had taken her hand.
And because of that, he was still alive—able to sit here and talk with her now.
“So, are we going after him now?”
“No. If we move too soon, he’ll cut ties and vanish. I’m going to use him to lead us to the one in charge.”
“How?”
“I’ve got a plan.”
Elsez didn’t explain. She simply gave a confident smirk.
“For now, just pretend to cooperate with him. Your survival comes first.”
“Got i—”
Before Henry could finish his reply—
BAM!
Elsez suddenly slammed her fist into the table between them, making it rattle violently.
“This bastard still won’t talk?!”
Henry instinctively flinched.
He remembered that fist. The one that had nearly killed him back in the forest during the wide-area healing spell incident.
He looked at her in alarm.
“W-what the hell are you doing?!”
“If he suspects we’re working together, we’re screwed. Gotta make it look real.”
…What did real interrogation mean to her?
A chilling suspicion crept into Henry’s mind. But he decided not to ask.
Elsez casually smashed the chair she had been sitting on.
“Hm. Still feels a little weak.”
“Weak? What does?”
Henry tried to brush off the rising dread, but when he looked up, Elsez’s eyes were on him—bright, like she’d just come up with a brilliant idea.
It terrified him.
“Wanna take a hit? So it looks more believable?”
Looking at her like she was suggesting something totally normal, Henry thought,
This woman is insane.
*****
That evening, Elsez visited the guild branch.
“Thirty healing potions, please. And, uh, about ten detox potions too.”
One of the perks of being a guild member was access to potions—healing, status recovery, and more—at a reduced price.
Merchants sold potions to guilds below market rate in bulk, and the guild resold them to members without markup.
A simple but valuable benefit.
“Thirty?”
“Yup. Just thirty.”
The staff eyed Elsez warily.
Healing potions were addictive. It was rare for someone to carry a large number at once. Buying thirty in one go was highly unusual.
Instead of explaining, Elsez simply pulled out a pouch of coins from her inventory and handed it over.
That was enough. The staff returned shortly with a full box of healing potions.
As Elsez began injecting the potions into a bracelet, a familiar voice called out behind her.
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