Concrete evidence confirms you’ve been leaving at night in a black robe without authorization, attacking young women and draining their blood.

"This photo was accidentally captured by a civilian two weeks ago—proof of your crimes."

A photograph slid through the round hole in the partition. It showed a dim alley at night, shot from afar. Blurry but unmistakable: a figure shrouded head-to-toe in black, pawing at a slender girl in a sailor uniform.

Alquett stared at the photo, stunned. After a few seconds, she shot to her feet.

"You’ve... been spying on me?!"

"Choose your words carefully. This isn’t spying."

The priest’s tone was calm, detached—and an unspoken admission.

"As a Hero of the Kingdom, you’re a prime target for vengeful Demonkind. We must keep you under constant observation for your own safety."

"Moreover, we must ensure a public figure like you never betrays the Hero’s name. As the Bishop foresaw."

"B-But... it’s just... a minor physical condition..."

Alquett’s face drained of color. Her voice dwindled to a whisper. She’d served the Church long enough to know its stance on monsters—and never imagined she’d face it herself.

Biting her lip, she sank back into her seat, defeated.

"...Little Te."

The priest sighed, shifting to a paternal tone.

"You’re the Church’s most celebrated Hero, beloved by the faithful. I speak plainly now because I remember the burden you shouldered so young. Given your service, minor missteps might be forgiven."

"Superiors were willing to overlook this. As long as victims stayed silent, or evidence never traced back to you—we’d turn a blind eye."

"Worst case, even if they reported you? The Church could silence them and shield you."

A flicker of hope lit Alquett’s dull eyes—until the priest’s voice turned icy.

"But consorting with Demonkind? Unforgivable!"

Crimson eyes flashed with desperation. "I didn’t—I truly didn’t—"

"Why were you the only prisoner to escape their dungeon? Do you expect us to believe Demonkind kindly released you? To them, you’re a greater threat than the Pope himself."

Beside him, a junior priest recording the interrogation sneered:

"‘Demonkind turned on each other... a kind monster guided me’? Hah. Childish lies fool no one."

Alquett’s breath hitched. She bowed her head, forehead pressed against the partition, silent.

No matter how she pleaded, they wouldn’t believe her.

*It’s all true... why won’t they listen...*

"You returned unscathed—no wounds, no bruises, not a trace of struggle. Yet you claimed to have rescued others from a dungeon?"

The priest’s voice remained measured, clinical:

"...And that failed mission where your teammates were captured? I’m told you led that reckless pursuit against orders."

Alquett stayed silent. Her heart turned to ice. Numb.

"You ignored command, caused catastrophic losses, then assaulted your guards to flee. ‘Captured’ by Demonkind—only to stroll back into the city untouched."

"Who vouches for your innocence? Who proves you didn’t conspire with them, betraying the monks and comrades who trusted you?"

"After all," he added, the words final as a gavel strike, "Bloodline monsters are born enemies of humankind."

The verdict hung in the air.

"Confess! Did you plot this betrayal from the start? Infiltrate the Church as a spy for Demonkind?"

Alquett could only whisper, broken:

"It’s not true... not like that... why won’t you believe me..."

"Spotless after capture? You must have sold the Kingdom’s secrets the moment they took you. Or was this your plan all along—to defect?"

"Foolish Alquett! The Church and Kingdom nurtured you. I thought you loyal to the Holy Light. Blinded by your deceit—an ungrateful wretch!"

The priest’s face darkened. The junior priest echoed his scorn. Even the Nun at the back lowered her head, eyes filled with disappointment.

"I’ll report this to headquarters. Until orders arrive, you’ll stay in the Church’s detention cell. Understood?"

Trembling, hollow-eyed, Alquett forced out a whisper:

"The Bishop... I need to see him... please... He’ll believe me..."

The departing junior priest scoffed.

"Who do you think you are? Still playing the mighty Hero? The Bishop doesn’t grant audiences to traitors."

The priest frowned coldly.

"Your capture caused chaos. The Bishop and Mayor have worked day and night to contain rumors of your defection. The Church’s reputation is in ruins."

"Do you truly think," he added, voice sharp, "you can run to the Bishop like a child seeking comfort this time?"

Alquett’s last hope shattered. Tears spilled over, blurring her vision. She choked back sobs, voice raw with pleading:

"Just once... let me see him... please..."

"After we verify your story."

The priest sighed.

"Guards—take her to the detention cell. Confine her strictly. Until headquarters decides your fate, you’ll reflect on your sins there."

Armored guards hauled the limp, vacant-eyed Alquett from the confessional.

*Screech—*

Iron bars like a prison gate. Damp stone floor. A pallet of muddy straw for a bed.

Alquett crouched against the gray wall, tears streaming unchecked.

"What did I do wrong..."

"Why is this happening to me..."