TBR CH45

There is a fable like this.

Once, a demon was imprisoned inside a brass bottle, which was then cast into the vast and boundless sea. As long as someone pried open the tin seal from the outside, the demon would be free again.

And so, the demon began his long wait.

In the first hundred years, he thought: If someone saves me, I will give them endless gold and silver treasures.

But no one came.

In the second hundred years, he thought: If someone saves me, I will grant them the greatest fame and status in the world.

But no one came.

In the third hundred years, he swore: If someone saves me, I will fulfill their every wish.

But no one came.

After that, the demon’s thoughts solidified into deep malice over the endless years. He thought, if someone were to find him now, he would kill them. This would be his way of repaying kindness—twisted and cruel, yet understandable.

Of course, in the story, the demon ultimately received his deserved punishment.

But Tal knew of another version of this story, with a different ending. The demon didn’t wait for just three hundred years. Over an eternity, his thoughts changed again and again.

In his imagination, he had loved the person who would one day save him, and he had also hated them.

At his most volatile, one day he wanted to present everything in the world on a golden platter for them, and the next, he wanted to give them the cruelest, most painful death, torturing them bit by bit.

In his imagination, his bond with that unseen person deepened. Countless times, he pondered what kind of eyes they would have, what kind of hair, what kind of fate. He wondered what they would desire, and what attitude they would have toward him.

Thinking about these things was meaningless, he knew, but he had nothing else to do.

The demon gradually became erratic. Again and again, he rehearsed in his mind the moment he would be found, until, in the end, love and hate blurred together. He could no longer see his own feelings clearly. Even the longing to be found eroded away with time.

It had been too long.

A hundred years, or a thousand—he could no longer tell them apart.

No one would ever find him. One day, the demon in the bottle told himself this.

No one would ever save him.

It was something he could not hope for, not even in ten thousand years. He had spent so long fantasizing about this imaginary person that he almost believed they truly existed. But that was wrong.

This person did not exist. They would not come.

So, in the end, he shattered the bottle himself and walked out.

*

To Edwin, for a long time, Tal had been the closest presence to him. And for the demon, being in such close contact with a human was also unprecedented.

The bishop’s internal clock was precise. As always, he opened his eyes just as the morning light tinged the curtains. Tal spun his chair slightly, positioning himself to directly face Edwin, but after two seconds, he turned away again.

The demon first heard the bishop’s breathing become slightly uneven for a minute or two.

He had just woken up—this was normal. Besides, it had been a long time since he had enjoyed such a deep and sweet sleep. The terrifying visions and painful nightmares had sunk to the lightless depths of a lake, unable to crawl ashore and disturb him in the slightest.

Last night, Tal had been bored and took a peek at the bishop’s dreams… but he had no intention of telling Edwin about that.

How should he put it? It reflected the bishop’s personality quite well.

In his dreams, even the most ordinary things could become deadly weapons. Every scene was shrouded in an ominous, gloomy haze, monstrous beings beyond imagination roamed freely, and there was never a place of safety.

How did he maintain that cold and rational demeanor during the day with such a mental state?

Then, Tal heard the soft rustling of fabric. He was changing clothes.

The bishop’s attire was always meticulous, adjusted depending on the occasion, but the common theme was excessive modesty—almost no skin was ever exposed. His robe reached down to his ankles, and the silver buttons required effort to fasten through the buttonholes, sealing his garments tightly.

These subtle sounds strongly emphasized the presence of another person in the room. The room was silent, and the reality of being forced to live together was magnified infinitely.

Tal thought that Edwin was probably also forced to hear, in the hazy moments after waking, the creak of his turning chair and the faint rustle of pages flipping.

There was still a demon here.

The bishop drew back the heavy velvet curtains and saw Tal idly sitting in his usual seat, holding a quill but writing nothing—just twirling it, letting drops of ink fall onto the large black book before him.

At his feet lay the replaced carpet, the exact same color as the roses on the table.

The demon turned his head. His voice carried a syrupy sweetness, yet he didn’t seem to truly care:

“Good morning, dear bishop. Did you sleep well last night?”

It had only been a day, Edwin thought, yet his life already seemed filled with the traces of a demon.

But the feeling… was strange.

Maintaining such close proximity with another person—no, with a demon—he recalled seeing Tal the previous night when he was pulled from his nightmare. That had been his most vulnerable and unguarded moment, yet nothing terrible had happened. In fact, things had gotten better.

And this demon in front of him now knew his deepest, most hidden secret. But it seemed… he didn’t think it was a problem. He hadn’t even mentioned it a second time.

It all felt a bit unreal. So when Edwin answered, his voice still carried the huskiness of sleep, sounding somewhat dazed:

“I slept well. That was very effective. Thank you.”

The demon smiled. “I’m honored.”

The bishop put on his boots and stepped down from the bed. His staff rested beside it, and his prayer beads were always on him—at least ensuring he would never be unable to use light magic. Tal remembered that there was a blade hidden inside his boots, the same one that had been plunged into that man’s chest the day before.

Then Edwin picked up his staff, looking completely awake.

That brief moment of softness vanished without a trace.

Tal was a demon, and a useless low-level one at that. Edwin still kept this fact in mind.

He was already prepared to leave, but Tal remaining in the room was like a ticking time bomb. Edwin hesitated, then reinforced the magical formation at the door.

He did all of this right in front of the demon, but Tal had no particular reaction.

“Apologies, but I need to ensure you can’t leave, especially within the Church.”

This was not for the demon’s safety, but for Edwin’s reputation. As a bishop of the Holy Church, his power far surpassed that of a mere low-level demon, and there were surely others within the Church who could see through Tal’s disguise.

Even though Tal swore that he was a master of disguise, the bishop was unwilling to take any risks.

Yesterday’s situation… was obvious. Tal had left the room, but that was within expectations. The situation had been too rushed, and the original magic formation had not included a function to prevent “the entity in the room from leaving.” Later, the intruder had also damaged the formation.

Now, the magic formation had been improved, and the bishop had personally added three layers of demonic-restricting runes. They would not harm Tal, but in terms of preventing his departure, they should be quite effective.

“All right,”

The bishop silently adjusted the new formation, but the demon spoke first.

“In that case, you should be able to rest easy now.”

Even if he had originally been at ease, hearing those words would make him start doubting. Edwin sighed inwardly and stood outside the door, looking back into the room.

“My request is the same as yesterday. If you get bored, you can also read my books…”

Would a demon really be interested in such things?

Tal smiled and said, “Just like yesterday, Bishop, please don’t worry.”

Just like yesterday.

That was why, a quarter of an hour later, Tal was once again wandering inside the church.

As the Holy Son’s condition improved, the tightly-run machine of the church resumed its operation.

Starting today, the church was once again open to visitors. The grand silver-white doors slowly swung open, and the devout poured inside.

Today’s morning prayer was not Edwin’s session, but it was his designated day of the week to report to the pope. A sleek, jet-black stallion neighed as it came to a halt in front of the church, while the demon hid in the building’s shadows, observing every visitor who entered.

There was, of course, a reason for this.

Although the Holy Son held an extremely high status and great freedom within the church, for safety reasons, the paladins guarding the church’s core had temporarily restricted Noah’s outings.

At the same time, the church had not fully disclosed the Holy Son’s current condition to the outside world. Surely, those powerful figures he had provoked were now anxious, desperate to see him.

Though this place was under the jurisdiction of the God of Light, what was a little risk in the name of love?

Previously, for the sake of Noah’s duty and reputation, he had chosen to stay away. But this time, his severe injuries provided the perfect excuse.

Noah stood by his window, looking down.

The Holy Son’s residence was an independent building within the church, situated just behind the grand cathedral. It was relatively central yet private, complete with a small garden. His window faced the garden, thoughtfully designed to avoid the disturbance of crowds.

And yet, this arrangement troubled His Highness the Holy Son.

“System,”

For the first time, he was this distressed. “Adelaide wrote in his letter that he would sneak in to see me this morning… Why hasn’t he arrived yet? If he’s any later and Edward runs into him, that’ll be a real problem.”

Their agreed meeting place was by the rose trellis along the garden fence. It was a spot rarely visited, and Noah had even arranged for the paladins guarding the area to be called away.

The Holy Son had reminded the black dragon to be careful, to disguise himself as a visitor new to the capital who was unfamiliar with the church’s layout. That way, he could “accidentally” wander into the Holy Son’s residence and “just happen” to run into Noah standing by the flowerbed.

“Though I really want to see you too,”

Noah had replied in his letter,

“But we still need to be discreet inside the church. Adelaide, you are my one and only partner in this life. I love you the most, so don’t be too hasty.”

And then, the black dragon had been foolishly tricked into coming, his love-filled heart nearly melting.

There was no way he would stand Noah up… The Holy Son bit his lip as the system reported his proximity to his intended target. He was so close—so why couldn’t he see him?

At that moment, Adelaide was utterly lost inside the church.

He had certainly met the definition of “accidentally wandering in,” but unfortunately, he genuinely couldn’t find his way.

This was not the fault of a young abyssal dragon unfamiliar with the world. The Dragon Valley, where he lived, was vast and deep, without all these twists and turns, nor so many corners.

Now, in human form, he was already unaccustomed to this body and vision, and distinguishing north, south, east, and west was proving to be quite a challenge.

He debated whether to ask for directions.

Adelaide had hardly interacted with humans before. His greatest expertise regarding them was how to attack them, so he feared exposing himself the moment he spoke.

However, his bewildered wandering had caught someone’s attention. A priest in standard church robes approached him with a smile and asked,

“Sir, is this your first time visiting the church? Do you need any assistance?”

What luck! Adelaide had just been about to ask how to find the Holy Son but abruptly swallowed the words, recalling Noah’s warning: “Don’t give yourself away.”

“Uh,”

The black-haired, black-clad dragon in human form stiffly responded, “N-no need. I’m just… taking a walk.”

It sounded suspicious.

But the priest did not change his attitude and merely nodded kindly.

“The church welcomes visitors from afar. You are free to explore, but please do not approach the southern corner—His Holiness the Holy Son is resting there, and it would be troublesome if he were disturbed.”

Adelaide had just found his savior. He stammered,

“Thank you so much! I will absolutely not f—walk over there. Don’t worry.”

The priest simply smiled noncommittally before leaving.

The black dragon watched as the priest hurried away, feeling so grateful he could cry. He then promptly turned and headed toward the southern section.

He was in such a rush, of course, because he wanted to see his beloved as soon as possible. However…

In doing so, he failed to notice that the priest who had given him directions had slipped into the shadows of the church and, in an instant, changed his appearance.

The figure now watching him leave bore an expression full of meaning.

His eyes were a flowing pomegranate red, always shifting, always filled with mockery.

—Having deliberately sent Adelaide in the completely wrong direction, Tal was feeling quite pleased with himself.

From the very first moment this inexplicable black-clad visitor had entered the church, the Dark God had recognized his old acquaintance.

Adelaide had been circling the church for some time, but he looked every bit the clueless foreigner. The busy priests would never have stopped to help him.

Tarksius had been enjoying the spectacle with satisfaction.

The church in the royal city was indeed complex, but even by blindly fumbling about, Adelaide would eventually find the right path. That left Tal a little disappointed.

So, he had changed into the form of a priest and “helpfully” pointed him in the wrong direction.

That dim-witted black dragon would now have plenty of time to waste.

The culprit shrugged, lost interest in Adelaide, and turned his attention elsewhere. The young demon silently navigated the church’s interior using the shadows.

His target was deeper within the church. Edwin was also there, but that was not the main point.

Just moments ago, a golden carriage had arrived at the church entrance.

Some wealthy individuals adorned their carriages with gold and jewels, but this one was even more opulent, yet tastefully restrained. Four young, powerful jet-black horses raised their hooves, kicking up dust.

A priest, already prepared to receive the guest, rushed forward to lift the curtain of silk, allowing the person inside to step down at a leisurely pace.

There was no doubt—the carriage belonged to the royal family, and this man was an honored guest of the church.

Tal was unsure of his exact status, but the middle-aged man exuded an air of refinement and decadence.

His robes were woven from shark silk, a rare fabric exclusive to merfolk, hardly ever seen outside the black market. His golden hair was meticulously groomed, his broad, pale hands—unused to sunlight—were adorned with a string of gemstone rings, each of the highest quality, sparkling under the daylight.

Even his beard was impeccably trimmed, though the demon himself had little appreciation for bearded aesthetics.

His eyes were the strangest part.

This nobleman’s pupils were different from people’s usual impressions—they were a naive, light blue, like a child’s eyes.

One could imagine what kind of person he was: enjoying everything with a clear conscience, issuing orders from on high, while simultaneously exuding an air of complete ignorance and innocent cluelessness.

The demon’s sharp hearing was enough to catch the murmurs of those nearby:

“Prince Angelo… is it him?…”

“Why has His Highness come again…? I heard he intends to…”

Tal was not unfamiliar with such humans, nor did he have much interest in them.

What truly caught his attention was the faintly familiar scent emanating from the prince.

Silently, Tal collected a wisp of this prince’s aura in his palm. His dark magic forced the murky black energy to manifest in the air, swirling in his grasp.

The demon tilted his head slightly, a hint of regret in his expression, as he watched this high-ranking noble walk toward the depths of the church under the escort of priests.

Although…

Tal thought, Edwin should already know who his enemy was.

But the archbishop might not yet realize that hidden within the prince’s aura was a well-concealed demonic presence. This presence lingered around his soul, not due to his bloodline, but because of a pact with a powerful fiend.

Yesterday, when they visited the church in the Wading district, Tal had paused for a moment upon entering.

A scent of his kin. The mark of a greater demon.

It seemed that long before the archbishop attempted to summon a demon, someone in this royal capital had already done so—and succeeded. This prince had sold his soul to a demon in exchange for boundless power and prestige.

And that black-robed figure who had dealings with the gray-haired man had left behind a similar scent. No doubt, he was deeply connected to this prince.

To stand against a true fiend as a mere mortal—

Tal thought, amused—Edwin, can you win?

Noah could no longer endure.

Especially as the system’s cold mechanical voice reported that Adelaide was straying farther away, showing no sign of turning back.

The morning had mostly passed. His schedule was packed today.

It was the first day the church reopened to the public after the incident. Noah had originally planned everything perfectly: morning, afternoon, and evening, he would meet with three former targets, exchange a few affectionate words, and then send them away.

He had absolute confidence in his charm and persuasiveness. Even if the system thought his scheme was too risky, the Child of Fate insisted on carrying it out.

If he met with those targets early on, their suspicions would likely be dispelled.

Unfortunately, no matter how charming His Holiness the Saint might be, there was no one present to appreciate it.

The rosebushes were nearly set ablaze by Noah’s anxious gaze. The exquisitely beautiful young man now had a slightly teary, sorrowful look, one that evoked pity—yet there was no one to appreciate it.

The Saint gritted his teeth:

“System, I’m going to find him now.”

This was not part of the plan, and Noah truly couldn’t understand.

In his eyes, Adelaide should have been one of the easiest to deal with. Back then, in the dragon territory, the roars of the abyssal dragon had sent all other creatures fleeing in terror—yet it had lowered itself before him, brought him to a lair filled with gold and jewels, and shared all its treasures with him.

Dragons were creatures that valued beauty, drawn to shiny and magnificent things.

So, it only took Adelaide a single second to fall in love at first sight with Noah, who possessed an irresistible charm.

Those days had been smooth sailing. Adelaide held undeniable authority within the dragon race, and as the partner he had sworn loyalty to for life, Noah naturally received the highest treatment.

Abyssal dragons were highly respected among their kin. Though somewhat slow-witted at times, they were still powerful, and their presence was unfathomable…

Noah frowned in frustration.

There was no way he could actually be this lost in the church, right?

In the solemn reception hall, the Pope sat on a high-backed chair made of pure gold—an exclusive seat, reserved for the voice of God.

Edwin stood beside him, head slightly lowered, gripping a ruby-studded scepter in his hands.

The thick walnut door swung open without making a sound as it glided across the floor.

entered, followed by five or six attendants. They moved to lay out cushions and tidy his appearance, ready to serve his every command—until suddenly waved them away.

With a deliberately naïve smile, he said cheerfully:

“In this room, aside from His Holiness the Pope, who else could possibly be worthy of sitting? Don’t you agree, Archbishop Edwin?”

Edwin’s gray eyes remained calm. He traced a cross over his chest and bowed slightly in blessing.

“You are correct, Your Highness. We are all children of God, and He treats us all equally.”

“Ha—”

let out a short, delighted laugh, then did something astonishing.

While everyone expected him to remain standing out of respect for the Pope, he instead ordered his attendants to lay down the cushions again, then swaggered into his seat.

“That being said… I twisted my back while riding two days ago, so I’m afraid I must sit. Your Holiness, you wouldn’t mind this little discourtesy, would you?”

At this point, the Pope had no reason to object.

Now, the only ones left standing were Edwin—

And Tal, watching from the shadows.

As a servant of the Dark God, none of those present had the ability to detect his concealed presence. He stood close to the archbishop, observing his expression with keen interest.

Edwin’s expression did not change.

He gazed indifferently at the seated prince, his gray pupils resembling mist-shrouded glass orbs—cold, inorganic, completely unresponsive to the prince’s deliberate provocations.

An awkward silence filled the room for a few seconds before it was broken by ’s sharp laughter.

“Why so serious? I hear that the Saint has recovered well—isn’t that wonderful news?”

Finally, the prince was ready to get to the point. His pale blue pupils dilated slightly.

“I came here today,”

He looked at the Pope.

“Primarily to express, on behalf of the royal family, our sincerest well-wishes to His Holiness the Saint. The royal family has always been the most devout servant of the God of Light. Just yesterday, the king sent valuable resources as a gift—if they can be of any use, it would be our honor.”

The Pope nodded and spoke kindly, “God will see your devotion.”

Tal, hidden in the shadows, couldn’t help but chuckle.

That was one thing the demon bound to the prince would never agree with.

As for Edwin, he had nothing to say.

In truth, the matter of the Saint was entirely beyond his control—he had been cut off from the core of power for various reasons.

But he knew that had not come simply to offer congratulations. He undoubtedly had another purpose.

Sure enough, the prince turned his gaze toward Edwin with a look of exaggerated sympathy.

His middle-aged face, paired with that deliberately innocent tone, was utterly repulsive.

“It’s truly unfortunate—I’ve recently heard some rumors about you, dear Archbishop. My God, I can hardly believe it. How could anyone slander such a devout servant of the Lord?”

Edwin had just opened his mouth to speak when interrupted him.

“Of course, I would never believe that you have the filthy bloodline of a incubus. However…”

The prince deliberately emphasized the pronunciation of the word “incubus,” a term that had likely never been uttered in this solemn meeting room before, striking the eardrums of everyone present.

“I believe that such rumors, which concern the reputation of both the Church and the royal family,”

‘s tone took on an inexplicable excitement as he blinked at the man before him, as if trying to close the distance between them.

Edwin did not miss the flash of cruelty in his eyes—like a viper slithering past.

“We must take immediate action to verify the truth, don’t you agree, Bishop?”