Dejan's eyes trembled ever so slightly.
"Perhaps the culprit is someone from Adorif."
His frozen lips parted as if searching for a response, but in the end, he merely lowered his head.
It felt strangely satisfying to look down at the crown of such a tall man's head.
Like a conqueror standing before a defeated enemy forced to kneel.
Soon enough, that'll be reality.
A faint smile tugged at my lips.
"For the record, the reason I'm telling you this is because I have no intention of letting you leave anyway."
"What do you intend to do with me?"
"Anyone listening would think I was some scoundrel trampling on your sincere devotion."
The line sounded absurd coming from an immortal, and I couldn't help but chuckle.
"Still, considering your status, I won't throw you into the underground prison."
Dejan Voislav Nemanich would simply be recorded as missing after failing his mission.
The enormous amount of blood scattered throughout the forest would serve as evidence of his death. People would silently accept that he was dead and stop searching.
And if a corpse was required?
One could always fabricate one.
"Because you're going to be a sacrifice for my grand ambition."
The moment the immortal stepped onto the soil of the Grand Duchy of Plene, he was as good as dead.
"So you'd be better off giving up now."
"You know nothing about the true terror of demons, Your Grace."
The man who had remained silent all this time finally spoke.
Clenching the hand that no longer had any fingernails, he slowly forced the words out.
"And you do?"
"I was cursed by a demon."
Placing my hand atop his tightly closed fist, I smiled.
"So that means you know how to summon one."
"..."
"I won't press you. You don't seem inclined to tell me right now anyway."
I pried open his fist and placed a small glass vial in his palm.
"You'll regret this."
"If you ever change your mind, use that."
I ignored his warning and turned away.
There was a saying: the more urgent the matter, the more important it was to take the long way around.
Right now, what I needed was patience.
Especially if I wanted to claim Dejan Voislav Nemanich completely.
Dejan sat alone at the edge of the bed, turning over his thoughts about Idir.
She's no ordinary woman.
She wore a smile almost constantly, yet behind it gleamed eyes as cold as winter.
The ease with which she seemed to peer straight into people's minds—and the frightening sharpness of her deductions—sent chills down his spine.
If I'd let my guard down, I'd already be dead.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Dejan swallowed a sigh.
The proposal she'd left behind—something between an offer and a threat—echoed endlessly in his mind.
She had retreated for today, but this was still enemy territory.
If Idir truly wished it, she could harm him whenever she wanted.
No matter what consequences followed afterward.
She's probably already devised a way to deal with me if I lose control.
Suddenly, Dejan realized how accustomed he had become to being treated like a dangerous beast.
They're not wrong.
A self-mocking smile crossed his face as he stood.
Regardless of the situation, his priority was returning to his territory.
Her threat about reporting me to the temple was probably a bluff.
If word got out that Idir had attempted to summon a demon, she would be in just as much trouble.
So how much of what she'd said could he actually trust?
Dejan replayed their conversation.
"I'm going to ask for the power to take revenge."
That part he believed.
No—he had no choice but to believe it.
Beneath those calm green eyes lurked a freezing fury that had spoken more honestly than any words could.
There might be a connection.
He needed to investigate the murder of the Grand Duchess.
Quietly, Dejan observed the guards patrolling outside.
They moved in pairs, circling the building at a steady pace.
When he cracked open the window, it slid upward without resistance.
Taking advantage of a moment when the guards were out of sight, he leaned halfway outside.
This is manageable.
Once darkness fell, the structure would be easy enough to climb. He could scale the wall and reach the roof without much trouble.
Having roughly assessed the area, Dejan waited for nightfall before making his escape.
His fingers dug firmly into the gaps between the exterior stones as he swiftly climbed upward.
Thump.
It took less than ten minutes for him to grab hold of the rooftop.
His movements were so stealthy that no one noticed.
Except for one person.
"As Her Grace predicted."
A female knight stood waiting for him, as though she'd known all along he would come.
With regal poise, she leveled a sword directly at his nose.
Dejan let out a hollow laugh.
"Ha. I walked right into a cheap trap."
"Abandon any thoughts of resistance, Sir Dejan Voislav Nemanich."
Giselle's voice was icy.
"We are holding your adjutant hostage."
"..."
So that was why his escape had seemed suspiciously easy.
I overlooked the fact that the fool practically invites disaster with his own mouth.
No doubt Holden had exposed his location himself through careless chatter.
"If you don't believe me, you're free to continue your escape."
"..."
"Though in that case, a finger belonging to Sir Gley Holden will be delivered to your residence."
"Wouldn't it have been faster to torture him for information than to torture me?"
"That was Her Grace's order."
"...?"
"Her Grace dislikes wasting time on unnecessary matters."
Meaning she intends to focus all of her efforts on breaking me.
Cursing inwardly, Dejan slowly raised both hands beside his head.
The moment Giselle relaxed slightly at the universal gesture of surrender—
Smack!
He slammed both palms against either side of her blade.
A sharp whistling sound cut through the air.
The silver sword shattered, the broken fragments spinning through the darkness.
He expected surprise.
Instead, Giselle's expression didn't change at all.
Dropping her body low, she instantly drew another sword from her waist and swung.
"Kh—!"
Her calm and immediate reaction nearly caught him off guard.
The blade grazed him by the narrowest margin.
A small cut appeared.
Though the wound healed the moment blood surfaced, the fury within him still surged violently.
Giselle didn't miss the opening.
With fluid precision, she twisted her body and struck directly at his vital points.
She's not trying to subdue me...!
Apparently Idir had given permission to kill him.
"Wasn't my blood what you needed?" he shouted.
"We don't need your life."
"If you kill me—"
"We've already prepared for that."
"...!"
What exactly was Idir thinking?
One moment she acted as though she intended to imprison him forever.
Now she was trying to kill him.
At this point, he even doubted whether Holden was still alive.
"Where is my adjutant?"
"..."
Giselle offered no answer.
She simply intensified her assault.
Dejan hurriedly lowered his upper body.
Scrrrape—
His feet slid across the roof, causing the aged building materials to creak like an ancient instrument.
"Giselle! How's it going?"
Then it happened.
Idir's voice floated upward from below, melodic enough to sound like singing.
"Exactly as you instructed, Your Grace."
"Mmph! Mmgh!"
Another familiar voice was mixed into the noise.
Dejan immediately leaned over the edge of the roof.
As expected, Holden's hair was firmly clenched in Idir's hand.
The moment their eyes met, she smiled brightly and waved.
"Good evening, Sir Nemanich."
"...Your Grace."
The words escaped Dejan like a groan.
Meanwhile, Giselle effortlessly moved behind him and pressed her blade against the back of his neck.
It was close enough that even the slightest movement would slice his skin.
"Did I mention that I had a hostage?"
Idir asked cheerfully.
Her voice and expression were so innocent that anyone watching might think she was inviting him to play a game.
"I was thinking of putting that hostage to better use. What do you think?"
"Mmmph! Mmph!"
"Haa..."
A gag stuffed in his mouth, Holden struggled desperately.
Idir merely tightened her grip on his hair.
Holden looked up at Dejan with terror-filled eyes.
This isn't just a threat.
To Idir, Holden was neither more nor less than a hostage.
Nothing else.
"...I'll come down."
In the end, Dejan surrendered.
And thus he found himself locked inside the underground prison—
right beside Holden.