TBR CH42

He was surely—trying?—to say something, perhaps blurting out a question: “What?” But Edwin forcibly swallowed his doubtful words at the last moment.

His gray eyes, closer to something inorganic, quietly gazed at the corpse on the ground.

The questioning process was actually meaningless—the result lay before him, plain as day.

“I will…”

The bishop stepped onto the deep red woolen carpet, lowered his head to scrutinize the dagger in the assassin’s hand, and only then finally spoke:

“I will handle it.”

The dead man was an assassin, which was nothing honorable enough to be made public. Presumably, the one who sent him had anticipated failure and would not pursue the matter further.

As for how to deal with a fresh corpse—for the bishop, it was troublesome, but not too difficult.

The truly difficult part was dealing with the other presence in the room. Tal had been watching him with those striking red eyes from the moment he entered.

Alright, Edwin thought, he could understand why the other didn’t want to take responsibility for this incident. He could even convince himself that perhaps the demon had merely been in the room when the assassin happened to barge in—so he simply and decisively killed him.

That was fine. At least he wouldn’t go around talking about it.

But some things didn’t quite add up—such as, if Tal had obediently stayed in the room, then what was with the rose in his pen holder?

Noticing the bishop’s gaze land on the rose, the demon, with an innocent look, preemptively played the victim and complained:

“Bishop, you’re still quite young, yet this room is so oppressive. Doesn’t this make it look much better?”

…Alright.

Edwin took a deep breath. Once again, he was forced to confront a dreadful reality—

From now on, he had to live with a demon and be responsible for hiding him within the church.

“I still want to remind you,” the bishop said as he bent down to pull the dagger from the assassin’s palm, making his words sound as natural as possible while negotiating with Tal,

“Moving around the church is very dangerous. I hope you stay in the room as much as possible.”

“Maybe the assassin brought the rose in,” Tal suggested, obviously making things up without any real intent to convince the bishop.

Edwin had a keen sense of smell, cultivated from childhood by the various incenses of the church. Naturally, he had detected the rich scent of roses clinging to the demon.

The bishop had no interest in arguing with a demon about what had already happened. However, he still hadn’t figured out Tal’s true nature, so after a brief contemplation, he suddenly said:

“This afternoon, I need to leave the church for a while. You… will probably have to come with me.”

“That far?”

Mainly, Edwin didn’t feel at ease leaving him in the church—after all, in just a few hours since morning prayers, a corpse and a bouquet of roses had appeared in the room.

He kept this thought to himself and simply replied,

“It’s a bit of a distance. Also—”

Edwin clearly found the question ridiculous, but after hesitating, he asked anyway.

A signal of goodwill, perhaps:

“What color of carpet do you like?”

Noah’s healing would not be completed in a day. The God of Light had issued a divine decree requiring a ritual every seven days to gradually purge the remnants of darkness within the Holy Son using divine light.

In truth, Noah no longer felt any discomfort in his body. Perhaps it was just a superficial illusion, or perhaps—Noah let his thoughts drift—the will of the God of Light was nothing more than a pretext.

He knew the god would visit him again.

Of course, expecting a god to instantly fall for him was unrealistic. The process of the “irresistible allure” taking effect entangled the halo with the target’s self-awareness, slowly eroding their reason.

At this moment, the flawless facade of the God of Light had cracked ever so slightly. He had developed desire—for the breathtaking youth before him, who was also his devoted follower.

Yet, the god still maintained his divine composure, unwilling to let the Holy Son anticipate anything too soon.

Seven days felt agonizingly long for Noah.

Recalling the celestial figure he had seen in his dazed state that day, Noah felt an unbearable itch in his heart. He couldn’t wait to see the high and mighty god crumble beneath his charm. His thoughts drifted back to the others he had previously ensnared.

Hmm… thinking it over, only Tarksius could truly compare to the God of Light.

But the Dark God’s attitude had always been excessively cold and indifferent. Even under the influence of the halo, it was rare to see any obsession in his eyes. The process of conquering him was dragging on too long—even Noah felt fatigued and impatient.

Noah thought it was taking too long. Melting Tarksius’s icy heart was easier said than done. Gods possessed everything, which meant nothing in the world could truly move them.

But if it were that little demon from thousands of years ago, who had once had nothing—things would be different.

The plan to conquer the God of Light meant he couldn’t follow his usual seduction tactics within the church, like flirting through physical proximity with Tal. Even those past lovers had to be kept at a distance, lest they interfere with his current goal.

Thus, his approach with Tal had to be indirect. But in essence, the plan was simple:

First, he would push Tal to the brink of death, abandoned by the world.

Then, he would descend from on high—becoming the sole light that could save him.

Noah was contemplating this when the system’s voice suddenly rang out:

“Host, the Dark God’s location has been fixed—he’s somewhere inside the church. The program will soon be able to guide you to him. You should go check it out.”

It was right—this was important information.

Yet, as Noah got out of bed, he hesitated for a moment.

Was he visiting too frequently?

The holy knight standing guard outside wouldn’t question his movements. That honest and loyal young man would flush red the moment he saw him. The Holy Son wandering inside the church wasn’t particularly alarming—though the knight was a little worried about his health.

Noah smiled at him, and the young knight became so flustered he was at a loss for words, only managing a foolish grin.

“If you’re concerned,” Noah said with a teasing glint in his eyes,

“Perhaps you’d like to accompany me on a stroll through the church?”

That—wasn’t exactly a knight’s duty.

But how could he refuse a request from the Holy Son?

Besides… did the Holy Son’s words imply he had some… interest in him?

With no effort at all, Noah gained himself a companion, feeling quite satisfied.

This way, he could move through the church without much scrutiny—and even had a free guide.

To be honest, ever since arriving in this world, he had spent most of his time “traveling” around the continent. He had even switched bodies along the way, so he wasn’t all that familiar with the church’s layout.

Nor its inner workings.

Noah considered himself clever, yet he still couldn’t discern any cracks in the church’s hierarchy. Everyone seemed devout, pure, and blindly faithful—without a single flaw.

Who, exactly, had summoned a demon in this place?

At that thought, he felt that the God of Light’s descent in seven days might actually be a good thing.

It would give him time to breathe—to investigate the Dark God’s current state. And, of course, to deal with his old lovers.

It was already afternoon, and the morning sun had been scorching enough—let alone the midday heat. Even the knight holding a parasol for him hesitated slightly.

Wasn’t this an odd time for the Holy Son to take a walk?

Just as doubt crept into his mind, Noah turned and smiled at him, pointing to the white tower ahead, his tone light, almost coquettish:

“I’m tired. The white tower up ahead looks like it’ll provide some shade, and I’d like to go up and have a look.”

“But…”

The young knight hesitated. The white tower was a venue for grand ceremonies and morning prayers. Some high-ranking clergy, including Archbishop Edwin, also resided there.

Entering at this hour, without a purpose, might disturb them—and there wasn’t much to see inside anyway.

But then he saw the Holy Son’s delicate face, his lips pale from the heat, eyes filled with pleading.

Resolving himself, the knight extended his hand to him:

“Please be careful. I’ll take you to rest inside the tower. You must be heading to the small chapel for prayer, right? The God of Light will surely witness your pure soul.”

Noah lowered his gaze, hiding the impatience and contempt in his eyes, and simply responded softly:

“You’re right. That is exactly my intention.”

Edwin’s hand, reaching for the doorknob, hesitated for a moment. He once again cast a meaningful glance into the room.

Though, on the surface, it was empty—no demon, no roses, no corpse.

Then, he pushed open the door and looked into the room in front of him, where two people, caught off guard by the sudden opening of the door, stared back at him in bewilderment.

One of them was Noah, the Holy Son of the Church.

Edwin did not know much about His Highness the Holy Son. On one hand, it was because he had not been in his position as Archbishop for long enough. On the other hand, it was because two years ago, the Holy Son had claimed to have received a divine calling and had since traveled across the continent, preaching.

This time, the first sight he had of Noah was of him severely injured, on the verge of death, barely clinging to life. Noah’s accident was vaguely attributed to the Archbishop’s negligence, even though Edwin had barely any impression of the Holy Son prior to this and had never interacted with him before.

Though the young man’s face was mostly obscured by the knight standing in front of him, the faint glimpse of his features was enough to make one realize that he possessed a beauty capable of driving the world to madness.

Had it not been for those turquoise-blue eyes peering unblinkingly into the room, Edwin thought that perhaps he, too, would have been momentarily captivated by such an astonishing appearance.

The Holy Son’s beauty seeped silently into one’s thoughts, and upon realizing this, an unsettling discomfort arose.

The bishop’s gray eyes revealed no emotion. He only paused slightly on Noah before shifting his gaze to the other person.

The young and promising Holy Knight.

The knight looked somewhat flustered and uneasy as he positioned himself in front of the Holy Son and apologized:

“Your Excellency, we did not mean to intrude. His Highness wished to go to the small chapel to pray and was merely passing through…”

“Oh,”

Edwin’s voice was calm.

“The small chapel is downstairs. I believe you know that.”

Of course, the knight knew. If it weren’t for Noah’s sudden curiosity about the Archbishop’s residence and his insistence on coming upstairs for a look, this situation would never have occurred.

He had no choice but to bite the bullet and explain, while also feeling puzzled about the Holy Son’s strange behavior of staring into Edwin’s room.

Noah hesitated, unsure if he should step forward. But upon seeing the empty furnishings of the Archbishop’s room, he dismissed the thought. The system’s detection could not be wrong—at this moment, the demon Tar, the embodiment of the Dark God, had to be inside.

Hiding in the Archbishop’s room—its implications were self-evident.

Speaking now would make it too obvious.

Moreover, he truly had not expected the door to open so suddenly, momentarily losing his composure.

The deep purple curtains blocked his view entirely. Noah had assumed that since he could not see inside, those inside would also be unable to notice their presence outside.

“It was me.”

So, Noah simply listened as the knight clenched his teeth and took all the blame upon himself.

“I told His Highness that the view from the top floor was beautiful and wanted to show him.”

That was somewhat plausible, though the top floor was generally only open during ceremonies. While it made sense, it was not entirely in accordance with regulations.

Edwin had no intention of making things difficult for the Holy Son.

He merely nodded slightly at this explanation before shutting the door again, knowing that the two would not linger any longer.

As the last trace of light from outside was completely blocked, a creaking sound came from behind—a wardrobe door opened, and Tar stepped out with a hint of complaint.

“You locked me in a wardrobe with a corpse…”

The demon ran his fingers through his hair, his soft, damp strands curling slightly around his fingertips. He turned to glance at the corpse inside the wardrobe. The bishop had not forgotten to seal it with holy magic, so at least there was no blood spilling everywhere.

However, the wardrobe was now in complete disarray, and the air carried a mixed scent of roses and fresh blood.

“Someone will come to handle it,”

Edwin noted Tar’s gaze and chose his words carefully.

“That aside, are you ready to depart?”

“As long as I cover my horns, hide my eye color, and change into different clothes, I should be fine.”

Tar gave a graceful bow, and in an instant, he transformed into a human.

His sharp nails receded beneath slender fingers, and the horns that had just been visible above his hair disappeared. Demons had an inherently alluring appearance—in other words, they were all exceedingly attractive. The clothes on Tar’s body changed into plain, unremarkable fabrics, though the scent of roses still lingered. At this point, the bishop began to suspect that the fragrance was simply the demon’s personal preference.

Edwin couldn’t help but look into his eyes. Their color had been blurred into a normal human brown, but in the faint slit of his pupils, he could still glimpse the pomegranate-red glow.

Tar winked at him.

Though this disguise might not be enough to fool the high-ranking clergy of the Church, the people they were about to meet certainly would not have the ability to see through it.

“This will do.”

The bishop draped his outer robe over himself. Like any other bishop of the Church, he had several robes of different colors. The one he wore now was a deep purple, with golden horn-shaped clasps running tightly up to the collar and silver patterns embroidered along the hem—both austere and solemn.

On the surface, Edwin was heading to a district in the royal city that afternoon to inspect the diocese’s affairs.

But Tar had a hunch about who he was actually going to meet.

Summoning Tar had been a grave mistake. The bishop’s situation was dire—this morning’s assassination attempt alone hinted at the danger closing in around him. Yet his soul, burning with ambition, held a conviction as unshakable as stone.

He would not stop taking action, would not stop trying to change the status quo, even if any attempt at change now was like cutting through a tangled mess, nearly impossible to untangle the true root of the problem.

If one path was blocked, he would simply take another.

How very… interesting.

Tarksius had originally come just to see what kind of greedy soul had summoned him, but now he was also curious—just how far would this soul fall?

And more importantly—

He knew exactly what the bishop was trying to conceal.

That absurd, malicious joke that was meant to determine his fate.

“I know your secret.”

Edwin suddenly heard Tal speak. The demon sat in the back seat of the carriage, speaking in an unhurried manner. The bishop’s face instantly paled, yet he forced himself to maintain the calm mist in his gray eyes and looked at Tal.

His hand had already covered the ruby scepter, ensuring that the coachman could not hear their conversation.

“Don’t worry, Bishop.”

Tal smiled sweetly at him, as if he were saying something of little importance.

“I know that you tried to extend your reach toward the royal authority and thus attracted unwanted attention. I know that someone is already prepared to take your place, to crush you into the mud or burn you to ashes. I know that once your deeds are exposed, you will be cast aside by all, denounced as a fraud and a clown, or worse.”

“I know all of this—only because of the side effects of the contract. Besides, I do not discriminate against half-bloods. I am merely curious, dear Bishop—have you truly never thought about it?”

The carriage came to a stop.

Edwin closed his eyes and cut off Tal’s words before he could continue.

“Whatever you are about to say—”

The demon obediently fell silent. He heard the exhaustion in the bishop’s voice and suddenly recalled that this human had barely had any rest for nearly two days and nights.

That voice was like tar and fire, rough as it rolled across his eardrums:

“…After this matter is settled, you will have your answer.”