Moments earlier—
Rodrika was hunting for the Heretics based on Gao Ying’s description.
How had the Hero uncovered their plot? His words echoed: “Holy Maiden Silphiel sensed it!”
The Holy Maiden herself!
Rodrika dared not doubt. She immediately began scanning the crowd. These two Heretics had murdered Miss Lindbergh’s guards and servants, then impersonated them—utterly despicable!
After her father’s death, Rodrika’s relatives had distanced themselves from the Radel family. Around the same time, Lady Lelia lost her parents too. Rodrika felt a pang of shared sorrow.
If the Hero implied the Lindbergh deaths were tied to cultists… these villains had gone too far! She’d never forgive them.
Just as righteous fury surged within her, she spotted an elderly man dressed as a butler and a young guard chatting near the fence. Her eyes narrowed slightly. Their faces matched the description. Worse—they were peering through the iron bars, whispering and pointing. Almost certainly plotting an assassination!
She couldn’t let them succeed.
This was her first task from the Hero. She *had* to be flawless to earn his trust.
—
Outside the banquet hall, an iron-barrier fence enclosed rows of carriages.
Lelia’s attendant and his master—disguised as a butler—peered through the gaps.
The old man’s gaze turned grim. “The security tonight… tighter than expected. Killing the Hero here is impossible.”
The attendant’s eyes locked onto Lelia and Gao Ying dancing in the ballroom. His brow furrowed. “Is Lelia getting too close to the Hero?”
The elder patted his disciple’s shoulder. “Don’t overthink it, Orc. She’s your fiancée. This closeness is just for the mission. Even ambushing him afterward will be difficult now.”
“We must rely on Lelia.”
Orc scowled, watching Lelia. “What if she *wants* his attention? She chatted happily with him last time—that traitorous wench probably seeks his favor.”
The old man adjusted his glasses, voice dropping. “…After she completes her task, Orc, you may deal with her as you wish.”
Orc froze, then grinned wolfishly. “Truly, Master?”
“Of course. Lelia lacks true faith—she joined the Shadow Sect only to avenge the Holy See. Besides…” He paused. “If she digs deeper, she’ll discover who *really* killed her parents. And frankly? Her family’s rotten nature meant they deserved it.”
Orc’s eyes traced Lelia’s figure in the distance. “True. The Lindbergh warehouses were hellholes. She’s worthless.”
As they whispered their vile scheme, footsteps suddenly approached. They whirled to see Rodrika—radiant in white Holy Knight armor—smiling down at them.
She tilted her head slightly, hands resting on their shoulders. “Gentlemen, what were you discussing? Care to share?”
Orc paled, fingers flying to his sword hilt. Instinct screamed: *Draw it, and your head rolls.*
The elder remained calm, chuckling. “Knight lady, we’re merely Lindbergh servants. The banquet looked lively—we couldn’t help but watch.”
Rodrika gave a faint nod. Just as the old man thought he’d fooled her, her voice cut through the night:
“Just watching? Are you certain?”
His smile stiffened. Rodrika’s own faded. Holy power crackled around her fists. “Because someone reported you as Shadow Sect Heretics. Whom should I believe?”
“Preposterous!” The elder laughed smoothly. “The Lindberghs are Holy Capital nobility! Our servants would never—”
“The Inquisition will verify your innocence,” Rodrika declared, her lavender eyes blazing with holy light. “Come with me now.”
The moment her words landed, the elder’s eyes flashed. He roared, spinning to drive a fist toward her face.
A high-rank monk’s strike—wind howling, force shattering. But Rodrika caught it bare-handed.
Their collision thundered like a storm, spooking nearby horses.
*This knight… she’s beyond me.* The elder’s heart sank. Worse—guards would swarm them any second.
*Who betrayed us?* Only Shadow Sect leaders and his disciples knew this mission. Leaders wouldn’t leak it…
*It must be Lelia. That bitch betrayed us!*
Rage flared, but escape mattered most. He used the recoil to leap back. “Orc, run!”
Orc bolted instantly. They split—one left, one right. *She can’t chase both!*
Rodrika cracked her knuckles, cold fury in her voice. “Underestimating me? How foolish.”
Holy light coalesced into a spear in her palm. Without looking, she hurled it toward Orc.
A scream tore through the air.
She sprinted after the elder.
Her wavy lavender hair streamed behind her under the moonlight, catching the glow like spun silver.
*Crafty old man.* Unlike his clumsy disciple, he darted into crowded alleys, weaving through nobles.
He’d chosen well—but fatally underestimated Rodrika. Escape had been impossible the moment she spotted them.
Seeing her close in, terror seized him. His eyes locked onto a passing nobleman. *A hostage!*
As he lunged, Rodrika exhaled sharply. She crouched, holy power surging into her boots—then *vanished* in a silver flash.
She intercepted him mid-lunge. “Impossible!” he choked.
Rodrika vaulted upward, driving a knee into his gut. Bone cracked. He flew backward like a broken puppet, slamming into a stone wall—*embedded* in the rubble.
She landed with a stumble, hopping twice to steady herself.
Hand flying to her mouth, she gasped. “Oh no—I used too much force! Is he dead?”
*The Hero ordered a live capture!*
She rushed forward. The elder coughed blood, eyes fluttering open. “You’re… Radel’s daughter? Spare me… we’re not enemies…”
Rodrika froze. “What do you mean?”
“…Your father… still lives.”
The words struck like ice. *If he lives… why six years of silence?*
*If true… what was my life as a traitor’s daughter?*
“Heretics lie to poison hearts,” she whispered. Dark emotions surged. She seized his head, yanking him from the wall.
Blood dripped from his nose. “I speak truth! Bishop Radel—he’s alive! He serves our great—”
“Silence!” Rodrika’s fist connected. He spat crimson but kept talking—survival was his only hope.
*How could I believe this?*
Father alive? A Heretic? Her shame, her suffering—all a lie? *It must be false!*
“Admit you lied,” Rodrika demanded, her face twisting.
The elder refused.
Another punch. Blood splattered her cheek. Moonlight caught the grim curve of her smile.
When she snapped back to herself, he was barely breathing—seven furious blows had landed.
Panicked, she cast a healing spell. Light washed over him. His chest rose weakly.
His words clung to her mind like storm clouds: *Father lives. He’s their leader?*
*Ridiculous. I won’t believe it.*
Less than a minute had passed. Only now did guards arrive, shouting: “What happened?!”
Rodrika straightened, puffing out her chest. Moonlight glinted off her Holy Knight medal. “Arrest these two! Heretics plotting to assassinate the Hero! Holy Maiden Silphiel uncovered them—I captured them on her orders!”
*That’s accurate enough.*
The guards blanched. *Assassinate the Hero?!* Their careers—and lives—hung in the balance. Hatred flared. “Bind them!”
As soldiers dragged away the groaning culprits, Rodrika strode toward the banquet hall, mind churning. She had to report to the Holy Maiden… and the Inquisitor overseeing security.
How could Silphiel possibly notice Rodrika's odd behavior?
Her mind was entirely fixed on dragging Lelia to utter ruin.
She’d originally planned to frame her—yet by sheer luck, this woman truly harbored ill intentions!
"Now let’s see how you explain this!"
Silphiel waved her hand, her aqua eyes sparkling brightly, and ordered Rodrika, "Bring up those two heretics. We’ll interrogate them face-to-face."
As for how Rodrika had found them, Silphiel pushed that thought aside for now.
