"The Artificer God's Revelation"

A dwarven magic.

Cast without incantation.

Manifested within Roy’s heart.

The door lock clicked open under its power.

Roy pushed the door inward, Isabella close behind.

The boy first entered Airi’s bedroom. The simple wheelchair that had stood there was gone.

Every furnishing remained untouched—

if anything, the room looked tidier.

It was clear.

Aisha and Airi had left of their own accord.

“Seems we’ve missed them today. Perhaps we should—”

“No. I think I know where Sister Aisha took Airi.”

Roy cut Isabella off, his gaze darkening slightly.

“We must hurry. Trouble may already be brewing!”

He snapped his fingers. A net of holy light descended from the air, enveloping them both.

Isabella’s eyes widened in shock.

“When did you—?!”

When had her master learned the Elvenfolk’s “Sanctified Cloak”?

As its name suggested, the Sanctified Cloak bent light to render its user invisible.

Despite bearing “holy” in its title, it differed fundamentally from conventional holy magic.

True holy spells repelled most Demonfolk—merely approaching them caused burns.

Moreover, without supplementary “Scent Veiling” magic, the Cloak could only fool non-magical humans.

Any mage would pierce its illusion easily.

Fortunately, Roy’s scent-masking skill was “Assassin God” tier.

But Isabella’s mind raced elsewhere…

*Had he used this magic for mischief?*

*And if so… why not on me—?* (Her cheeks flushed crimson.)

“When you snuck into my room planning mischief,” Roy said casually, “I decided I *had* to learn this spell.”

His calm tone made Isabella’s ears burn.

*He knew all along?!*

*Ugh, Master’s a villain!*

The flustered Elven Maid hurried after him, stammering.

“I—I wasn’t planning anything improper! As a maid, checking on your… your sleep patterns is perfectly reasonable!”

“Mhm, mhm.”

Roy glanced back. Her pointed ears trembled violently.

*Still terrible at lying.*

*Adorably so.*

He activated the Artificer God’s Revelation again. The door locked behind them with a soft click.

Violet wings, ethereal and wreathed in ghostly flames, erupted from Roy’s back.

“Shall I carry you, or—”

Before he finished, the mortified Elven Maid cast the highest-tier “Wind God’s Blessing” on her feet.

Like a startled rabbit, she bounded across rooftops in the Jasmine District.

Roy chuckled, shrugged, and soared after her—

guiding her path from slightly ahead.

Only human soldiers guarded the Outer City. No mages. No exorcist priests.

Even if there were, none could pierce Roy’s layered enchantments.

His destination: a cemetery on the outskirts of Eoliel’s Outer City.

Where Aisha and Airi’s parents lay buried.

Roy should have realized sooner.

For a Demon General to strike and vanish unseen, it needed perfect conditions:

A secluded place.

A time when no one guarded the sisters.

Like a cemetery on their parents’ death anniversary.

Only then would Aisha bring Airi out.

Waiting for another such opportunity might take years.

Roy’s eyes narrowed. His wings beat faster.

Behind him, silver-haired Isabella leaped lightly—

like one big rabbit chasing two little ones.

*Bounce. Bounce.*

*So cute.*

...

At the Holy Cross Cemetery, rows of white tombstones stood serene.

A breeze rustled grass and flowers in the hushed stillness.

A nun in simple robes pushed a wheelchair toward a grave.

Seated within was a pale girl with snow-like skin.

Sisters. Their resemblance was unmistakable:

Golden hair. Pale blue, dewy eyes.

But under the drowsy sun, the nun’s hair blazed like molten gold—

while the girl in the wheelchair seemed dimmed,

her features shadowed by perpetual melancholy and frailty.

Each visit dredged up Airi’s nightmare.

Since her “illness,” it haunted her silent nights:

Wolf eyes gleaming through fog.

An eagle’s piercing shriek.

Then darkness—only the wolf’s mauling and vulture’s pecking, starting at her legs…

In the dream, Airi would scream for “Daddy! Mommy!”

Waking, she’d clutch her knees and weep.

A chilling certainty haunted her: *She* had killed them.

If only she hadn’t wandered into the forest that day…

If only…

Tears glistened in Airi’s eyes.

She clutched a black-haired, violet-eyed cloth knight to her chest—

its stitched smile forever gentle.

Aisha noticed. Her own smile faltered for a heartbeat.

Then the nun brightened.

“Airi’s grown another year older~”

“Mom and Dad would be so happy!”

“Praise the Goddess of Light,” Airi whispered, forcing a smile.

“It’s thanks to Sister’s care. And…”

Her voice trailed off, cheeks flushing.

Her mind drifted to that morning:

Roy, blindfolded, his handsome face inches away as he cleaned her.

His slender fingers accidentally brushing her sensitive skin…

Airi had bitten her lip hard to stifle a moan.

Unseen, Aisha’s thoughts mirrored her sister’s.

*If only our parents could meet Roy…*

*This wonderful boy.*