Chapter 45: Before Rynen Discovered Calyphe and Dietrich's Antics(?)
Creak—
With every step Rynen took, the broken wooden floor screamed.
Furniture lay overturned or shattered, while bloodstains splattered the walls. Until mere hours ago, this had been a production site for illegal magical tools. The fools who never imagined being raided here had been thoroughly routed by soldiers from the Marquisate of Ophensa and mages led by Marcel. Rynen had contributed to the effort as well.
After the organization members were hauled away, Rynen returned alone to scour the scene. Yet he found none of what he’d hoped for. He withdrew a communication stone from his pocket.
“Nothing. They must have disposed of it or relocated.”
“How disappointing, my lord. I truly believed we’d find traces of ‘it’ this time.” Heron’s voice emanated from the stone—the steward managing the duchy in Rynen’s absence.
“Could the black magic in these tools be unrelated to Lumen’s Heart?”
“If so, multiple perpetrators would’ve been involved… Unlikely.” Dozens of illegal tools had flooded the market in weeks. Multiple black mages would’ve left clearer traces—blood and lives sacrificed, hallmarks of that cruel art. But with Lumen’s Heart…
Heron sighed. “Now that we’ve crushed them, the Magic Tower will trace the black magic here.”
“A matter of time.”
“As will the news of our failure to protect the Heart. Ugh—every vulture will circle once they learn. Just imagining it gives me a headache.”
Lumen. A name known continent-wide. A century ago, the black mage had sacrificed countless lives for his ambitions. Though a knight and mage felled him, his corrupted heart resisted destruction. The knight sealed it within his territory’s forest, pledging eternal vigilance—a duty passed down through the Ortega line.
Yet before Rynen’s ascension, someone shattered the seal. The Heart vanished.
“My lord, shouldn’t we seek Ophensa’s aid? Their magic sealed the Heart.”
“……No.” Rynen shook his head, recalling the viscount. “The marquisate may harbor conspirators. Cooperation could bind our hands.”
“Ah.” Heron groaned.
The Heart had lain hidden since its theft. This illegal syndicate had been their sole lead—now severed.
“You can’t involve the entire duchy… You’re only one man.”
“Hence the special unit.”
“Insufficient! What of Lady Ophensa?”
Rynen halted mid-stride.
“You currently aid their investigation—it’s permissible. But afterward? You’ll resume silver-haired disguises for every Heart inquiry.”
“…….”
“With her cooperation, pretexts and public appearances would simplify things.”
“This exceeds my contract with Calyphe.”
“But you’re allies now! At least until the contract ends!”
Rynen had weighed this dilemma. His answer came sharp:
“No. Outsiders stay clear—Calyphe included.”
“But—”
“Enough.” Steel laced his tone. “The Heart’s danger spares none. Should she help conceal its theft, the Crown’s wrath follows. Would you have her bear that?”
“……Apologies.” Heron wilted.
Same team. Rynen understood the sentiment. Yet he’d witnessed bonds shatter when danger struck—trust crumbling like rotten timber. Calyphe wouldn’t differ. Not condemnation, but hard-earned pragmatism.
……
Perhaps Heron was right. No need to fracture this fragile alliance yet.
A sudden blur clouded Rynen’s vision.
Haven’t received Calyphe’s powers lately—too busy chasing syndicates. He could endure… for now.
Shaking off fatigue, he headed to Calyphe’s annex—only to freeze at the sight of two figures exiting.
Calyphe gripped Dietrich’s arm, the baron behaving… uncharacteristically.
“……What’s this?” Frowning, Rynen strode forward.
“The hell?” Dietrich grumbled as I clung to his arm.
“Find when and where I can meet the High Priest.”
“Hah? Think I’m your damn dog—” His snarl cut off mid-curse. A beat, then he beamed like a feral pup: “—kidding! Right! Kya~ Our dear leader’s got such sharp eyes~ Arf arf!”
“…Have you lost your mind?”
“Gonna lose it thanks to you, boss.”
“……!”
Goosebumps erupted as I swung at him. He caught my wrist, lowering it gently.
“Tsk—you’ll get hurt.”
“Me? Hurting myself?”
“Me.”
Insane bastard.
“I’m no pushover, but your hits? Feels like you’re targeting weak spots.”
“Can you do it or not?”
The High Priest wandered endlessly searching for saints—we needed intel.
Dietrich sighed dramatically.
“Was saving my favors for after success, but…” His gaze sharpened, the former Black Hand heir surfacing. “For you, boss? Consider it done.”
……
His sudden earnestness surprised me. If even the Black Hand’s involved… He’s serious.
A satisfied smile crept up. My eyes softened.
“Good. I’ll expect results.”
“Uh…” He faltered, then puffed up. “J-just trust Dietrich-nim here—”
As his hand neared my head, an iron grip seized his forearm.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Rynen slid between us, legs parting the space. I ducked behind his broad back as he coldly declared:
“Calyphe is my fiancée. Not yours.”
“Eep! Wouldn’t take her if you paid me!”
“…….”
“Ack—arm arm ARM! Your Grace!”
Though Rynen barely exerted force, Dietrich writhed like a speared squid.
“Rynen! Are you… taking my side?”
His expression froze. After a loaded pause, he spoke stiffly:
“Sides? Don’t be absurd. The baron insulted me. My response is logical.”
Typical. For a second, I’d thought pigs might fly.
“He’s not just any baron. Dietrich’s Noah’s Imperial Language tutor now.”
“Tutor? I heard you loathed Baron Rothen.”
“We’ve reconciled. I’ll… try trusting him more.”
Rynen’s face morphed into something unreadable.
“Trust? Why? To what extent? Since when?”
Huh. Since when did he ask such pointed questions?
