Word that a man in a stolen Church robe had teased Saintess Liya spread like wildfire through Ayideen. The Witch’s Scent was practically being trampled underfoot.

“You’re sure he’s gone?”

“If I find out you’re lying, I’ll never come to your shop again!”

Indignant townsfolk surrounded the manager of the Witch’s Scent, loudly demanding to know where the man who’d teased the Saintess had gone. They looked ready to avenge her honor—and among them were even a few students who’d skipped class at Saint Perrod.

“I swear it’s true. He slipped out first thing this morning. I’ve no idea where he went. You’d have better luck searching the streets than asking me.” The manager looked utterly innocent.

After Liya left, the man seemed to realize something was off. He, too, soon left the Witch’s Scent. Who knew where he’d gone?

……

A head cautiously poked out from a dim alley that usually saw no visitors.

Only after making sure the coast was clear did Carlisle stroll out, swaggering as if he owned the place.

“Women are such a hassle. As expected, the most important thing for a Knight of the Round Table who wants to get stronger is to stay away from women.”

As he spouted some grand principle he’d heard somewhere, he tugged on the Church robe, wrapping it tightly around himself.

He’d only had a simple meal with the Saintess, yet it had brought countless enemies down on him. He’d never seen that coming. And what baffled him most was that somehow, word had also gotten out that he’d stolen a Church robe.

Now it wasn’t just the Saintess’s admirers looking for trouble with him. The city guards were after him, too.

“I think you might’ve won the Saintess’s heart without even realizing it.” As always, the Ghostling was talking about something that had little to do with the present situation.

Ever since he was little, Carlisle had felt that its tiny head couldn’t possibly hold the thoughts of a normal person.

“Oh, give me a break. If she really liked me, wouldn’t she realize how much trouble all this would cause me?” He scoffed at what it said.

He’d been able to wander around the city before. Now he had to slink about like a rat in a sewer, avoiding everyone. At this rate, wanted posters with his face on them might soon be plastered all over the city.

And he had that bashful Saintess to thank for all of it.

“Love can make you lose your head. She didn’t mind you eating the dessert she’d bitten into, which means she has you on her mind! That counts as an indirect kiss, you know!”

Those words made him stop on his way to the church. Carlisle rubbed his chin, suddenly thinking the Ghostling might not be completely useless after all.

He’d never cared about little details like that himself, but if a girl let him eat something she’d already bitten into, then she probably had at least a little interest in him.

“She likes me because I touched her breasts?”

“……You don’t have to put it so bluntly. From what I know, Saintesses are usually very innocent. It’s entirely possible that your boldness made her heart race, and she fell in love with you!”

Carlisle thought carefully about the stories of the Saintess he’d overheard from passersby. The more he considered them, the more convinced he was that the Ghostling was absolutely right.

“Quit talking nonsense. Let’s focus on figuring out how to catch the Witch.”

He waved the topic away, then turned with a smile and began looking around.

There was something almost blissful about that smile.

Ayideen was huge, and this was his first time in the city-state. After all that sneaking around, he had no idea where he’d ended up.

The Candlelit Gate before him stood half-open. Its flickering light fell over him, but instead of warmth, it brought a bone-deep chill. There was no wind, yet the leaves rustled strangely.

The sticky sound of insects crawling across the ground made him reach up and scratch at his ear.

A Knight of the Round Table’s instincts told him this place was steeped in ill omen, and that all manner of bizarre things must lurk within.

But he didn’t have the Golden Sword Scepter on him, so he couldn’t contain any of them. Besides, if he wasn’t mistaken, this was an important Church site. There were far more guards patrolling here than elsewhere.

If bizarre things were on Church grounds, that wasn’t his concern. The Knights of the Round Table contained bizarre things that had fallen into the hands of ordinary people.

If he didn’t want to be spotted, he’d better leave soon. He had no desire to be chased around by the guards.

Just as he was about to make himself scarce, someone as furtive as he was appeared inside the Candlelit Gate.

……

Sherry pulled on a black cloak and hood. Her hair gradually shifted from silver to pale pink.

Showing off two cute little fangs, she gave a cheeky grin and slipped into the crowd from a street corner.

Things had gone just as she’d expected. Word had spread through the city that someone had teased the Saintess, and her ardent admirers had gone off to avenge her honor.

The esteemed Knight of the Round Table must be running around like a monkey by now.

Carlisle staying in the city was a constant threat. She had to make him realize he was outmatched and give up on pursuing the ring.

And Sherry was on her way to trade his ring for a little spending money.

Come to think of it, she hadn’t paid for her purchases at the shop earlier. Someone had taken care of the bill in advance. That was what being a Saintess everyone adored was like: there was always some fool willing to give everything for her.

Sherry pushed open the shop door, deliberately lowered the brim of her hat, and walked over to the counter.

There weren’t many places in the city where you could trade goods for cash. You had to have some clout to run a shop like this. After all, even if they officially refused to buy stolen goods, how could they be a hundred percent certain that a customer’s items weren’t stolen?

If the rightful owner came knocking, you needed some serious connections to handle the problem.

She slipped Carlisle’s ring off her finger and held it out to the shopkeeper.

“Boss, could you tell me how much these things are worth?”

She’d sorted through the contents before coming. She’d made sure to put things like the Golden Sword Scepter safely in her own ring; otherwise, the shopkeeper would spot the stolen goods at a glance.

Carlisle’s ring now held mostly useless collectibles, like armor and broken swords. She hadn’t even put in some old books and letters.

“Sure thing!” the shopkeeper replied cheerfully.

He reached out with a callused hand to touch the ring. Before he could even pick it up, a violent explosion suddenly boomed outside the shop.

It sounded as if a terrifying stockpile of explosives had gone off. The ground shook, and the chandelier overhead creaked and squealed like it was begging for mercy. The customers inside stood up one after another, curiosity drawing them out of the shop to see what had happened.

“Never mind. I’ll come back later.”

She snatched the ring back from the shopkeeper, tugged down her hat, and hurriedly squeezed out with the crowd.

The moment she stepped outside, the acrid smell of gunpowder hit her. The screams of people in the distance rattled her eardrums. She jerked her head up, her cherry-pink eyes reflecting billowing smoke that towered into the sky.

Judging by where the smoke was rising, she figured the explosion had happened at the giant eagle’s third toe—in other words, at the Candlelight Sanctuary.

Had Ackerman caused chaos that quickly? Or was this just an accident?

After a brief moment’s thought, she put on Carlisle’s ring and headed for the Candlelight Sanctuary.