Julius followed the stumbling figure all the way to the gates of the Royal Magic Academy.
He moved like a shadow, slipping silently through the evening crowds of the Imperial Capital.
His pace was neither fast nor slow, always maintaining the perfect distance from the panicked figure ahead.
The woman named Agatha, a “chaos cultist,” had clearly been terrified by his words earlier.
She practically crawled and scrambled the entire way, dropping her belongings along the path without even noticing.
Julius watched as she rushed headlong toward the academy’s enormous iron gates, intricately carved with ornate patterns, and flashed a student badge at the guards.
The guards seemed surprised by her disheveled state, but after confirming her identity, they let her in.
Agatha, as if grasping at a lifeline, dove inside.
Julius stopped.
He stood in the shadows across the street, looking up at the empire’s most prestigious institution of higher learning.
A protective barrier enveloped the entire academy, with visible magic auras flickering on the surrounding walls.
The powerful mana fluctuations far surpassed those of ordinary soldiers. Even the two fully armored guards at the gate exuded a considerable aura.
Though the academy appeared completely open to the public, it wasn’t—at least, strangers couldn’t just wander in and out freely.
He glanced down at his own attire.
To facilitate his infiltration of the Imperial Capital, he hadn’t worn the dazzling armor that symbolized his identity as a saint knight. Instead, he had changed into simple, easy-to-move-in clothes.
A dark high-collared coat, sturdy travel trousers, and a pair of heavily worn military boots.
This outfit made him look like a common mercenary or a long-distance traveler.
His waist was empty, bearing no weapons.
As for the Holy Sword “Daybreak”—that blade originated from his soul, an extension of his power and the embodiment of his faith.
It had long since merged with him, allowing him to summon it freely.
Normally, he only manifested it and wore it at his side to match the image of a “saint knight.”
Julius preferred his current state.
That armor was too heavy, too dazzling.
It was a symbol, an icon, but also a shackle.
And now, hidden in the shadows, he was at his most real and his most dangerous.
Julius wasn’t worried that Agatha’s escape would alert the enemy.
If anything, that was exactly what he wanted.
He wasn’t concerned that the chaos cultists would become wary.
If he could make them nervous, jumpy, and paranoid, it would actually benefit his next moves.
After all, he was in the dark, and they were in the light.
That girl must be frantically running to report to her “handler” right now.
Since the “long line” had been cast, the “big fish” would soon surface out of panic from the disturbance.
And if they hid even deeper?
Then he’d play rough.
How could a chaos cultist escape the eyes of a chosen one like him?
At this moment, Julius had another issue to consider.
He had circled the academy’s walls for quite some time.
He could sense that the outermost protective barrier was much stronger than he had imagined, even faintly carrying the arcane aura of high-ranking mages from the Tower of Truth.
He could break through by force.
Given his current strength, tearing through this barrier wouldn’t be too difficult.
But that would inevitably alarm the entire academy.
His mission here was to root out the “chaos cultists” hidden inside the academy, not to make enemies of Dean Finalais or the Tower of Truth.
Infiltrating without alerting the academy’s authorities was no easy task.
After a moment of deliberation, Julius stopped.
He decided not to waste any more time.
Forcible infiltration was a last resort. He needed a “legitimate” identity.
He needed help.
He recalled the original purpose of his visit to the Imperial Capital.
His primary goal had been to find Eleanor Olivias first.
The chaotic situation in the Southern Diocese and those heretics with bizarre powers had made him deeply concerned for the safety of the newly appointed Saintess.
The Southern Diocese was nominally her jurisdiction, but she wasn’t there. Instead, she had come alone to the magic academy in the Imperial Capital.
He had to see for himself that she was safe and gather more intelligence about the internal affairs of the Church from her.
That priest was right—if he could gain the Saintess’s help, his operation would undoubtedly go more smoothly.
Moreover, she had enough authority and reason to “place” him inside the academy.
Julius turned his head, looking toward the district in the center of the Imperial Capital where the noble mansions were located.
He remembered… the Olivias family should have a mansion in the Imperial Capital as well.
Miss Eleanor was the Saintess, and also the eldest daughter of the Olivias family.
That priest had only said Eleanor was studying at the Royal Magic Academy, but it was already evening.
A delicate duke’s daughter and a Saintess—surely she wouldn’t be living in the academy’s simple dormitory like other students, would she?
Even if she did live in the dormitory, with the academy’s current security level, finding her without alerting anyone would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.
Since he couldn’t find Eleanor at the academy for now, he might as well check the mansion.
Compared to this heavily fortified magic academy, a private noble mansion would certainly have more channels for “communication.”
He could try submitting a visiting card through the steward, or look for opportunities nearby.
Maybe he’d find something.
Julius no longer hesitated.
He pulled up his collar, hiding his face, then turned and melted into the increasingly bustling crowd on the street, heading toward the Olivias family mansion.
***
Imperial Capital Asgard, Olivias Family Mansion.
At that moment, Eleanor was sitting alone on the sofa in her room, utterly dejected.
She had fled all the way here from the Royal Magic Academy.
She hadn’t gone to see Christ. She didn’t even have the courage to go back to the Tower of Truth.
Helos.
In her mind, that chilling image from the crystal ball played over and over again.
Helos’s delicate yet cold face.
That sharp little knife.
The magically enhanced rat, precisely cut open to reveal its bright red flesh.
The eerie mutation.
The rat’s final, miserable scream.
And the flash of red and blue in Helos’s eyes at the end.
She could hardly believe that her little sister could do such a thing.
Eleanor felt her stomach churn again.
That was no “alchemy research” at all.
Just as Gavi had hinted, it was a horrifying experiment that defied comprehension and profaned life!
So she had chosen to return to the mansion for now.
Eleanor didn’t even dare to tell Christ right away.
She needed time. She needed to think alone about how to explain this to her brother.
But the girl’s thoughts were in utter chaos.
When she came back, the steward had noticed her pale face and specially brought her a cup of hot tea to calm her nerves.
But now, that tea had long gone cold, and she hadn’t taken a single sip.
What should she do?
If she told her brother, how would he handle it?
Given Christ’s absolutely rational personality, once he confirmed that Helos was conducting such dangerous research, he wouldn’t stand by and do nothing.
He would intervene immediately.
Would he confiscate all of Helos’s research results and lock her up?
No… maybe not.
But if Duke Eisende, that man who ruled the entire Olivias family with an iron fist, found out that his “cursed girl” hadn’t stayed quiet but was instead researching such blasphemous forbidden technology in the Imperial Capital…
Eleanor’s body trembled violently.
With her father’s methods, how would he deal with Helos?
Eleanor didn’t dare to think about it.
She had always known what role she played in the family.
She was the “Saintess,” the family’s glory, the Olivias family’s representative in the Church.
And Helos was the family’s “shadow,” an existence that needed to be hidden.
Though Christ and their father seemed to have started gradually bringing Helos out of the shadows, even letting her appear at the Royal Banquet.
But Eleanor knew very well that all of this was based on the premise that Helos was “safe and harmless.”
They had to ensure that Helos herself wouldn’t be harmed, and also that Helos wouldn’t harm others.
And now, Helos had clearly touched “forbidden ground.”
Such experiments…
Eleanor was certain they were absolutely not allowed.
If the Church found out, they would definitely interfere on various grounds.
Even as the Saintess, she might not be able to stop their actions.
And besides, she was already complicit, wasn’t she?
Eleanor felt utterly powerless.
Though she was the Saintess, she had always grown up under the family’s protection.
Her power came from holy light, so she could hunt heretics and heal wounds.
But she didn’t know how to handle this kind of “mistake” from within her own family, stained with taboo.
She was still too naive.
Eleanor helplessly hugged her knees and buried her face in her arms.
She stared at the sky outside the window, lost in thought.
After an unknown amount of time.
A polite knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.
Eleanor jerked her head up, hastily wiped away the tears that had somehow seeped from the corners of her eyes, and smoothed her slightly disheveled golden hair.
“Come in.”
Her voice was still a bit hoarse.
The old steward pushed the door open. He was still as respectful and composed as ever.
But the look in his eyes when he gazed at Eleanor carried a strange hint.
“Miss.”
The steward bowed slightly, but his expression seemed hesitant.
“At the mansion gate, there is a young man with black hair who claims to be your former guard, requesting an audience with you.”