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"Master, where are we..."

Hilda’s voice was weak but carried a deep sense of earthiness. Only after gaining full consciousness could she tell where she was. The last thing she rembered was becoming a demon, and now, for so reason, Reeva was holding her.

"We are..."

Reeva tried to muster the strength to speak, but it wasn’t enough anymore. All his energy had been drained, used up in activating his power. Now the pain from that effort was hitting him hard. His vision blurred, and his hands grew too weak to hold onto Hilda any longer.

As he let go, Hilda rolled slightly on the ground. But none of that mattered to her in this mont. Her concern for Reeva overwheld everything. Imdiately, she pushed herself up and looked at him.

His black suit hid most of his body, but the outline of his bones beneath his skin was painfully clear.

"Master! What happened!?" she cried, rushing to support Reeva before he collapsed completely. This ti, she held him tightly in her arms. Reeva heard Hilda’s voice but couldn’t respond. He could only manage the best thing he could—he smiled.

Tears welled up in Hilda’s eyes as she looked down at him. Once again, this man had sacrificed himself for her.

Master...

But before she could dwell on it, an influx of mystic energy disrupted the mont. Hilda turned her head toward the source and saw what was happening at the entrance to the altar chamber.

Theia’s body was giving out. The turtle she summoned had reached its limit, and blood dripped from her eyes before they closed. Utterly exhausted from using her power, Theia fell. Onia and Brent exchanged looks, uncertain of what to do now that the demon had been turned back into a human.

The priests were equally unsure. Plutus, leading them, felt an odd confusion. Watching the transformation in real-ti had been... magical.

It was his first ti witnessing a demon revert to a human. Suddenly, Father Theodore’s deal made sense.

For the longest ti, the young priest had doubted why Father Theodore had struck a deal with a cult that could lead to disaster. The Father had said it could help the church rid the world of demons. Plutus hadn’t believed such grandiose claims, but now, seeing the impossible unfold, perhaps Father Theodore had foreseen this. Or maybe it was even the pope’s foresight.

Regardless, they still had a job to do. The demon might be gone, but there was no guarantee it wouldn’t return. Cleansing the filth from this world was their mission.

"Stop the judgnt! The demon is no more! But a heretic must still be exterminated!"

The priests moved quickly, halting their divine judgnt spell. Instead, they drew their weapons and activated their artifacts, rushing into the room. With no blood domain present, there was no need for caution anymore. To them, all that remained was a heretic that needed to be dealt with.

"Stop! We are from the Royal Academy! These people are under our protection!" Onia’s voice rang out, laced with desperation. They should have used this information sooner, but she had doubted the priests would back down from pursuing Theia. Still, it was their last card to play... aside from Brent’s status.

The other priests hesitated. They knew people from the Royal Academy were granted special privileges. But Plutus, already familiar with both Brent and Onia, wasn’t swayed.

"You should have known the mont you mingled with a heretic, you forfeited that privilege," Plutus said coldly. Not only had they sheltered Theia, but they had helped her escape—a grievous sin punishable by the church. They needed to be exterminated here, along with the heretics.

"...."

Brent knew this too. Yet he had to use everything in his arsenal for this mont.

"I’m the prince of Eyre. No church of the Sun has the authority to judge as a heretic. I declare these people under my protection, and you have no right to execute them."

Brent spoke with a cold voice, fully aware of his rights as a prince. As a mber of the royal family, he wielded a certain degree of power over the church, one of which was the fact that the church could not brand a prince as a heretic without the emperor’s consent.

However, he wasn’t out of hot water yet.

"Prince Brent…" Plutus said, eyes narrowing as he sized up the man stepping down from the spectral tiger. Golden hair and piercing golden eyes confird his royal lineage, even in the dim light. "Defending a heretic is no better than being a heretic yourself. Your father will not judge you lightly."

Plutus’s voice was cold, his attempt at intimidation palpable, though it wasn’t particularly convincing, given they were close in age.

"That’s for my father to decide. Until then, you hold no authority here," Brent said firmly, eting Plutus’s glare head-on. Neither backed down, and the tension between them was electric.

"...."

After a tense minute, Plutus finally made his decision. "Fine, but you’re now under the watch of the church. You and everyone here will be sent to the capital to be judged by the High Court. The decision will be made there."

With that, the priests slowly backed down. Onia exhaled deeply, relieved as the tension in the room began to ease. The priests set about cleaning up the chaotic scene.

"Are you going to be alright?" Onia asked Brent, uncertainty in her voice after witnessing his bold move.

"For now," Brent replied, scanning the room, his mind racing as he reassessed the situation. Claiming that everyone here was under his protection had bought them ti, but if the High Court judged them as heretics, it wouldn’t matter. Their lives were still on the line.

His family’s influence would likely prevent him from being branded a heretic, but the others were less fortunate. Even as royalty, Brent would have to fight a battle in court—a battle he wasn’t sure they could win.

But at least for now, Theia, Onia’s sister, was safe, as were the people she sought to protect. His gaze moved across the room, taking in the carnage—the corpses, the blood, and the grotesque transformation on the altar where the demon had reverted back into a human.

Finally, his eyes fell on Onia and her sister, Theia, whom she held tightly in her arms.

I suppose this is the price for altering the story. It’s barely recognizable anymore.

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