"Bastard!!!"
The goblet smashed into pieces on the carpet, the red liquid quickly soaking into the white wool, sending out wafts of mellow fragrance.
Wax rolled down the candle, Bishop Fole stood in front of the Goddess of Health Verthandi's statue, clutching a golden ring, and bellowed with rage, "How dare you let Satuk go to the carriage alone?!"
Albert, who was kneeling on one knee below, nodded deeply, silent, his mood extremely heavy.
He did not make any excuses for his oversight; although it had been Father Satuk's own decision to board the carriage by himself, Albert truly hadn't anticipated that the enemy would adopt a kamikaze attack—it was his lack of consideration.
As a knight, having failed to fulfill his protective duty, he was derelict.
It turned out that the magic bestowed by the Goddess of Health Verthandi could not absolutely protect the believers. Father Satuk had been careless because, like Albert, he hadn't expected the use of a bomb...
