Inside the Everbright Church of Blackwood, an emergency meeting was underway.
The atmosphere was tense, the air thick with unspoken accusations. High-ranking clerics and holy knights sat in rigid silence, their eyes fixed on the head of the long table.
At its center sat the Cardinal, the leader of the Blackwood branch of the Everbright Church.
His graying hair and piercing blue eyes only added to the weight of his presence.
Standing before him were Enzo and Nadia.
Enzo's hands were clenched into fists, his face twisted with frustration as he gave his testimony.
"I swear, that child isn't normal! He healed himself from the poison—"
A cold voice cut him off.
"Enzo," the Cardinal said, his sharp gaze flashing behind his glasses.
"Are you certain it was poison? What if it was simply a medicinal remedy? Certain herbs, when ingested by a child, can lead to an overdose."
"I'm sure, Your Holiness!" Enzo declared, raising two fingers in oath. "In the name of Eunomia, I would never lie!"
But the Cardinal was far from convinced. His expression darkened, and with a sudden motion, he slammed his hand against the table.
"Do not dare invoke the Goddess here!" he thundered.
"You failed to report this to the church—your sacred duty as a holy knight!"
His voice echoed through the chamber, the weight of his authority pressing down on the room.
"You were obligated to report any sign of black magic, especially when it involved your own child," he continued, his tone laced with disgust.
"And yet, you did nothing. And now, you stand before me swearing in the name of Eunomia?"
Enzo's face twisted with rage. "He is not my son, Your Holiness! That child was born from a disgraceful affair—I have never once considered him my own!"
A cold, mocking laugh escaped the Cardinal's lips. "Oh, I see." He leaned back slightly, his smirk dripping with contempt.
"So, you poisoned him yourself. That explains why you are so certain, doesn't it?"
Gasps filled the room.
Clerics murmured in shock, some cursing Enzo outright. Even the holy knight captain shook his head in disbelief.
It was one thing for Claude to have turned out to be a Daemon—but back then, he had been just a child. No one had known his true identity.
To willingly poison a child… it was beyond cruel.
The Cardinal slowly removed his glasses, letting them dangle from the chain around his neck.
"Enzo, you are a child of Eunomia," he said, his voice quieter but no less cutting. "Once, I held you in high regard. You were a knight of honor."
His gaze turned cold. "But that man is long gone. All that remains before me is a pathetic excuse for one. I am disappointed in you."
A chuckle broke the silence.
"Cardinal, aren't your words a bit too harsh?"
Aether, the Saint seated across from the Cardinal, tilted his head slightly, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement.
"The fact remains—Claude is now a Daemon. And whose fault is it that he was never captured? Nadia and Enzo pleaded with you to act, yet you ignored them."
He leaned forward, resting an elbow on the table, his fingers lightly tapping against the polished wood.
"And now, that child has escaped to Diamond Town—the one place even my title as a Saint cannot reach."
The room tensed further.
The clerics and holy knights exchanged uneasy glances. They were loyal to the Cardinal, but Aether's words held undeniable truth.
Had the church acted sooner, Claude would not have slipped through their grasp.
But the Cardinal merely smirked.
"And if it weren't for our dear Saint's recklessness—killing off most of the Dark Mages and moving in such haste—we would have caught that child by now."
Aether's fingers stilled.
The tension in the room thickened as the two powerful figures locked eyes, neither bothering to conceal their mutual disdain.
The air crackled with unspoken hostility, their rivalry laid bare for all to see.
"Anyway," the Cardinal continued, his voice steady, "the reason I refused the investigation wasn't because I don't suspect the child of being a Daemon. It's because they claim he is a direct descendant of the Lord of Calamity—the very one from the prophecy."
The room erupted into chaos.
Some clerics gasped in shock, others scoffed at the absurdity. An elderly cleric slammed his hand against the table.
"This is nonsense! That child showed no traces of darkness!"
"Exactly! He's weak!" another added, and soon the voices overlapped in a cacophony of disbelief.
The Cardinal's hand struck the table with a resounding thud, silencing the chamber instantly.
"But I swear!" Enzo suddenly shouted, his face red with frustration.
"That child is different! He survived the poison! He survived an attack from Chaos Hounds! How do you explain that?!"
"M-me too…" Nadia spoke up hesitantly, forcing herself to stand firm. "I believe what Mr. Easton said."
The Cardinal's sharp eyes turned to her.
"Nadia, is it?" His voice was like ice. "Do you know the results of Enzo Easton's mental examination?"
Nadia stiffened.
"He didn't even pass the first stage," the Cardinal continued coldly.
"By all rights, he should have been expelled from the church."
His glare intensified.
"But I allowed him to stay—as a sign of gratitude for his past service. And yet you, a cleric granted the honor of a surname by the Church of the Promised Land, would put your faith in a madman?"
A murmur of agreement spread through the room.
"The Cardinal is right," the Holy Knight Captain added. "That man was a wreck for years before he could function again. His mind is unreliable. And yet you trust him?"
Nadia bit her lip, saying nothing.
They weren't wrong. Even her fellow holy knight had abandoned her, returning to the Promised Land while she remained here, clinging to a belief no one else shared.
But she knew something was off about that child.
Claude's aura was unlike anything she had ever encountered—something sinister lurked beneath his innocent facade.
Even when he played with other children, trained with swords, or behaved like any normal boy, her instincts screamed at her that it was all a deception.
And yet… she had no proof.
It was only when she reached out to a Saint for assistance that someone had finally listened.
That Saint was Aether.
Aether leaned back in his chair, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Cardinal, why are you so opposed to informing the Central Church? If this child truly is dangerous, wouldn't it be best to seek their aid?"
He tilted his head, feigning curiosity. "Or is it that you no longer follow the teachings of the Goddess? Isn't it Eunomia herself who commands us to listen to every believer without prejudice?"
His words dripped with sarcasm.
The Cardinal chuckled, but there was no warmth in it. "How old are you, Your Holiness?"
Aether frowned. "Excuse me? How is that relevant?"
"It is relevant." The Cardinal adjusted his glasses, his confidence unwavering. "You are young. A new Saint—the lowest-ranked among your predecessors."
Aether's expression darkened.
The Cardinal leaned forward, his voice turning serious. "I understand. At your age, there is a natural desperation to prove oneself. To seek validation."
He sighed, shaking his head. "But you are naïve, Your Holiness."
Aether's hands balled into fists.
The Cardinal's gaze locked onto him, unwavering and sharp. "Do you truly wish to know what will happen if I report this ridiculous claim to the Central Church?"
Silence fell over the room.
"The world will fall into chaos."
His voice was calm, but his words struck like daggers. "Do you want that to happen, Aether?"
Aether's eye twitched.
The words stung more than he cared to admit. How dare this man—this Cardinal of some backwater town—speak to him this way?
I am a Saint.
I should be worshipped!
Aether shot up from his seat, slamming his hands against the table. "Whatever you say, I will report this to the Central Church. And I know they won't sit idly by!"
His golden eyes swept across the chamber, burning with contempt.
"Unlike you cowards, growing complacent in your comfortable lives, I see the darkness looming ahead!"
With that, he turned and strode from the room in a blur of white and gold, his cloak billowing behind him.
The remaining clerics and knights exchanged uneasy glances.
"What should we do, Your Holiness?" one of them asked hesitantly.
The Cardinal exhaled slowly, reclining in his chair as he gazed at the ceiling.
"Let him be. Let the Elders decide."
His fingers tapped against the armrest as he lost himself in thought.
'Dalia… this is all I can do for you. The last act of kindness I can offer.'
'Stay safe, my child. Live.'
***
Claude stood in silence, watching the orange hues of the horizon fade into dusk. The wind carried the cool scent of the evening as he and his mother approached the carriage waiting for them.
Marquess Raynold had provided more than just horses—there was a sturdy carriage, two well-bred steeds, and a hunchman waiting at the reins.
As they neared, a man in a black robe stepped forward. With a flick of his hand, he pushed back his hood, revealing a grin.
"You must be Lord Claude. I've been waiting for you."
Claude's gaze flickered to the man's face—curly orange hair, a smattering of freckles across his nose, and striking red eyes that gleamed under the dimming light.
Claude frowned slightly. 'I know this voice from somewhere… but where?'
And then another thought struck him. 'Why did he call me 'Lord'?'
"I see. Shawn, is it?" Claude kept his voice neutral. "Let's go, then." He gestured towards his mother. "This is Dalia."
Shawn jumped down from the carriage with ease, grabbing their suitcases before Claude could speak again.
"I know. Lord Theo already informed me beforehand."
There was a brief pause as he placed their belongings inside. Then, without looking up, he asked, "So… he didn't survive, did he?"
Silence settled between them.
Claude closed his eyes. "No. He isn't coming back."
Dalia lowered her gaze, her fingers curling slightly in her lap, but she remained composed.
Shawn exhaled through his nose before straightening.
"The journey must continue, then."
Claude nodded, helping his mother into the carriage. "We need to reach the north as fast as possible."
"I understand." Shawn's expression hardened with resolve. "Believe in me. I will protect you with my life."
Claude only gave a small nod before glancing back one last time, his eyes lingering on the distant mansion, half-expecting a miracle.
Half-expecting Theo to step out from the shadows, alive.
But no one came.
With a final breath, Claude climbed into the carriage, knowing that from this moment forward, his life would be more dangerous than ever.
The Church was now his enemy.
And he was no longer just a child running for his own survival—he had to protect his mother too.
'I won't let anything happen to her.'
'Next time… I won't run away.'
'Next time, I will win.'