Act 69

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“Me, asking Julian for a favor?” 

‘What on earth is he implying?’ 

The words baffled Elenoa, but she was not naive enough to show her confusion openly. The Julian she had known was foolish, or had been foolish. If she were Julian, she would have cunningly used the infamous label of ‘the smiling executioner’ and his position in ‘Closed Eyes’ to her political and economic advantage.

Until now, Julian had not shown such tendencies; he was merely a man who treated murder as a form of entertainment. However, something had changed, Elenoa was certain of it. 

‘It must have been since he returned from that demon extermination mission at the frontier.’ 

His nature hadn’t changed; he was still the ‘smiling executioner’ and ‘the dog of the imperial family.’ But now, there was a spoonful of cunning and a spoonful of political color added to his character.

He didn’t act directly, but there was a sense that he was manipulating the overall flow from behind, like a mastermind. 

‘Otherwise, he wouldn’t have caused such a disturbance at the banquet hosted by the eldest son of the Godric family.’ 

The reason Gerard provoked such an incident wasn’t really to expose the identity of ‘the Black Knight.’ That was just a superficial reason. 

‘It was because he saw Julian as a rival.’

Is someone favored by the Archbishop, whether truthfully or falsely, connected to the ‘Black Knight’? If so, could this create even a slight crack in his solid trust? Gerard’s gamble had succeeded. However, Julian had naturally mingled with him and at the same time planned to gain the favor of the ‘eldest son’ of the Godric family.

During those brief moments of Gerard’s appearance and provocation, ‘that man must have thought that far.’ It was a thoroughly calculated move. Elenoa was sure it wasn’t spontaneous.

“My words weren’t that complicated. Diana hasn’t said a word, I see.”

“It’s just too preposterous to comment on.”

“Is that so? Haha.”

“There are many prying eyes around. Perhaps we should change our location?”

Saying this, Elenoa swept back her hair, and the beauty mark below her eye subtly made its presence known amidst her locks—an enchanting curse and a blessing that could easily manipulate the hearts of others.

This habitual gesture of Elenoa’s naturally activated, but Julian’s expression remained unchanged.

As they moved to a secluded area, Elenoa glanced back at Julian following her. His cryptic statement lingered in her mind.

‘I’m not the one asking for a favor, you are.’

Reaching a spot devoid of onlookers, Elenoa turned to face Julian. “This should be far enough, Sir Julian. What favor are you talking about exactly?”

“…Elenoa,” he paused, a technique he often used, giving himself a moment before responding, a tactic to maintain control of the conversation. Although she felt she might be led on by his answers, Elenoa needed to hear them.

“Sigh, yes?”

“Have you ever considered… returning to your family’s ‘original position’?”

Elenoa’s posture slowly shifted towards Julian. While her face showed little change, the mix of emotions underneath was something she couldn’t hide.

‘How does he know?’

Confusion. It had been a while since she had felt this way.

“What exactly are you implying?” she asked.

“The literal meaning,” Julian replied, with a subtle smile forming on his lips.

Elenoa almost felt caught off guard. ‘He hasn’t revealed his true intentions yet. I’m just assuming.’

She composed herself and continued, “Hmm, I don’t understand what you mean. As you know, my family has a long history within the empire…”

She knew she couldn’t show too much interest. If Julian caught on to that, regardless of his intentions, he could easily steer the conversation.

“Ah, perhaps I’ve been too circumspect. Let me be ‘direct’. The Archbishop position…”

Seeing the slight tremor beneath Elenoa’s eyes, Julian pressed further.

“Don’t you desire it?”

Elenoa was taken aback by Julian’s words and internally began to calculate the various possibilities that this conversation might unfold into.

“The position of Archbishop… It doesn’t quite suit me. But how about you, Sir Julian? It seems like you would fit the role of Archbishop quite well…”

She needed to understand his true intentions.

“I am content being ‘the dog of the imperial family.’ A ‘dog’ does not bite its master. Haha, but wouldn’t that ‘position’ be special for your family, Miss Elenoa?”

As they lightly probed each other’s intentions, the mention of ‘family’ forced Elenoa to draw her metaphorical sword first.

“Are you suggesting you intend to rebel against Sir Tenellon?”

“It seems my words were heard that way.”

“Because that is indeed what you said.”

As Elenoa spoke, she watched for any change in Julian’s expression. His face was impassive, like a mask.

“Did you not join us to gain power, Sir Julian?”

Although his demeanor had softened, Julian was known to be a person capable of anything to overcome his mentor. What would he gain by rebelling against Tenellon?

“Is that supposed to be a problem?”

“Why not continue as we have been? Sir Tenellon favors you, and in time, he will surely reward you accordingly…”

“Haha.”

Julian’s brief laugh caused Elenoa to frown slightly.

“What’s so funny?”

“You seem to misunderstand my words, Miss Elenoa.”

Julian walked slowly and broke off a tree branch.

“I don’t particularly like the words ‘rebellion’ or ‘insurrection.’ You should know why. And I am not suggesting we overturn the Dawn Society from within to seize that ‘position.'”

Elenoa felt annoyed by his coy attitude but struggled to keep her composure.

“You, who are so favored by Sir Tenellon, still do not understand. It seems Sir Tenellon is considering inheriting the long-vacant position of ‘Grand Archbishop’ of the Dawn Society.”

“Yes.”

“The Grand Archbishop, you say?”

Trying to appear nonchalant, Elenoa watched as Julian responded, and she subtly bit her lip to conceal her reaction.

The position of Grand Archbishop in the Dawn Society is somewhat different from other denominations. The only one who has reached that position so far is the one who founded the Dawn Society for the first time, Ollent Demicel. Yes, Elenoa’s father. 

‘I don’t particularly attach significance to that position, but…’ 

She couldn’t help feeling a little uneasy, but curiosity arose. 

‘How did he know?’ 

“You don’t look well. Do you have any problems?” 

“No, not at all! It’s just time for Tenellon to go, I suppose.” 

“Yes, that’s correct. It might seem a bit premature timing-wise, but it’s for the cohesion of the Dawn Society, so it can be considered.” 

‘Cohesion.’ 

With a hint of bitterness lingering on her tongue, Elenoa pondered Tenellon’s intentions. 

‘Is it because he called members from other branches into the capital?’ 

In fact, Elenoa was also aware of some movements in other branches. 

That is precisely the existence of those who oppose Tenellon’s actions and seek to control the Dawn Society. 

The nucleus of power Tenellon holds in the Dawn Society is not the human himself, but the relic ‘Holy Grail,’ rather than ‘Tenellon’ himself. 

‘If someone who can use Holy Grail appears, those who are dissatisfied with Tenellon will rise.’ 

The reason for deciding to succeed to the position of Grand Archbishop might be to concentrate the power of the Dawn Society more on the capital. 

As long as there are many hidden figures within the Dawn Society, they can deal with dissatisfied individuals at any time within the capital. 

“Isn’t my proposal appealing enough?” 

Suddenly, Julian’s voice interrupted Elenoa, who was organizing her thoughts. 

If Tenellon becomes the Grand Archbishop, the position of the Archbishop, who oversees the bishops and monsignors under him, will inevitably become vacant. 

It’s irresistible. 

‘So that’s what it meant.’ 

His words were not a request but a request for acceptance. 

Now she understood. 

Rustle. 

Once again, as he snapped a twig, the sound of it breaking echoed from his fingertips.

‘But where did he acquire such detailed information?’ Elenoa wondered, puzzled by Julian’s extensive knowledge and his ability to manipulate it to his advantage.

Asking him directly seemed futile; she knew all too well that Julian was not one to openly share his sources or intentions, always playing his cards close to his chest.

As Elenoa considered the implications of an Archbishop’s position becoming vacant and potentially hers for the taking, her perspective shifted. The way Julian phrased his statement earlier now made sense to her. She understood the nuance behind his words and the power play at hand.

‘If someone among the bishops is to fill that position…’ Then the course of action she needed to take was clear.

“I see why you put it that way, suggesting I am asking for a favor,” Elenoa acknowledged, the pieces falling into place in her mind.

Julian turned to face her, his gaze piercing. “So, what will you do now? The astute Miss Elenoa wouldn’t just let such a favorable opportunity slip away, would she?” His tone was light, but his face held a smug satisfaction that made the moment feel like a pact with the devil.

“Alright! I formally ‘ask’ then. Help me become the Archbishop,” she declared, her voice carrying a mixture of resolve and anticipation.

“Well chosen,” Julian chuckled, approvingly. As he spoke, Elenoa noticed his hand brushing against the leaves of a nearby plant. Something about that action caught her attention.

‘Hmm?’

Pieces of crushed leaves clung to his fingers—a small but telling detail. Normally, Julian’s hands would be dry, always ready to wield a sword without any slip that could endanger his life. For a swordsman, clean and dry hands are crucial to maintaining grip and control over the weapon.

Turning back to the leaf fragments sticking to his hand, which implied moisture, she pondered what it meant. ‘Was Julian nervous? The formidable Julian?’

What could possibly make him nervous? If anyone could detect deception or emotional undercurrents, it was Elenoa, especially skilled in dark magic and sensitive to emotional shifts.

With a hint of suspicion, Elenoa glanced subtly at Julian’s expression. As usual, the man with the narrow eyes maintained a crescent smile, a faintly mocking grin playing on his lips.

That smile felt like a sneer to her. ‘Could it be? No, surely not…’

Elenoa wrestled with her thoughts, caught between doubt and the unfolding reality of their alliance, wondering about the true depth of Julian’s intentions and the emotional play behind his seemingly collected facade.

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