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The neatly arranged belongings and potted plants by the sunlit windows hinted at the personality of the homeowner.

But there would be no encounter.

If any survivors remained, there might have been a chance, but every village resident had become part of the altar without exception.

Ian pulled out a chair and sat at the table.

“I apologize for bringing you to such a humble place.”

“Think nothing of it.”

Having a place to sit at all was something to be grateful for.

Ian exchanged various words with the priest, though it was hardly meaningful.

It felt more like teaching than exchanging information.

‘They truly know nothing.’

He had expected as much. Battle Wraiths were only ever seen at the defensive lines.

Just reporting the altar made of corpses to the Pantheon in time was already their job well done.

However, what disappointed him was the word choice written in the mission delegation form by the Pantheon.

With mention of a dispatched investigative team, Ian had expected to meet reasonably authoritative priests and paladins.

But the priest here, who followed and revered Neridiel, the Lord of Life, was far from combat-oriented, and the soldiers had little experience.

These so-called “investigative teams” were nothing more than a hastily assembled group responding to reports alongside the soldiers.

Following Neridiel, the Lord of Life, naturally distanced one from battle.

“I believe there’s nothing more I can share with you.”

“…Thank you. The world is truly vast. I’ve heard of spirits possessing people, but to completely consume one’s identity and take their body… If the circumstances align, doesn’t that mean even the Emperor could become a Battle Wraith?”

Ian chuckled at the priest’s horrific imagination.

“There’s no need to worry. Such a thing could only happen if the Empire collapsed entirely.”

It wasn’t a joke. Even if the Emperor were utterly incompetent, he would still possess at least one holy relic and be surrounded by elite guards.

More importantly, the Imperial Palace, like the Pantheon, was sanctified, preventing Battle Wraiths from entering.

Furthermore, the hostile intellect, frenzied nature, and distinctive black sclera of a Battle Wraith would make them impossible to miss.

In that sense, it was a mystery how one managed to cross the defensive lines to reach this far.

“If you have no further questions, may I take my leave?”

“Oh, of course. Thank you for your efforts, Inquisitor. We’ll arrange accommodations for you as quickly as possible. For now, please wait here briefly.”

“No, I’ll leave immediately.”

Ian pushed back his chair and stood. The startled priest quickly followed suit.

“W-where to…?”

“There’s one village left, isn’t there?”

Hearing that, Priest Deon’s face brightened. He seemed to have been concerned about the altar in the remaining village as well.

“Just tell me the location, and I’ll take care of it. Priest, you should return to the fortress.”

“…Hmm.”

The priest hesitated, not answering right away.

“Priest Deon?”

“Hmm.”

Just as Ian was about to frown slightly, Priest Deon nodded firmly with a resolute expression.

“No, I cannot allow that. How could I, as a priest, value my life so much as to send the Inquisitor alone? I will guide you to the Kangjulgi Village.”

From his expression, it was clear these were not empty words.

Unlike the murderous gaze of the Battle Wraith, the priest’s eyes were filled with a sense of duty.

Ian smirked bitterly as he observed the scene.

“You really don’t need to come with me. Just provide me with the location. If there’s another Battle Wraith there, I might not be able to save you this time.”

“I’ve already steeled myself. Even if I die, I won’t hold you responsible, Inquisitor.”

“…….”

“If you’re worried I might hinder you, at least let me guide you to the outskirts of the village. Who knows? I might even be of some help.”

“Well… that could be the case.”

“I’m ready to leave immediately, without needing any extra preparation.”

Ian had already warned him. Despite knowing the risks, the priest seemed resolute in his decision to accompany him.

With firm steps, the priest moved to open the door.

“Let’s go!”

There was no stopping him. Ian sighed softly and followed him outside.

Once on the street, soldiers who had just finished the funeral lingered near the house. Spotting Ian, they began to gather one by one.

“It’s the Inquisitor.”

“He’s come out.”

Perhaps they were still uneasy, worried another Battle Wraith might appear. None seemed inclined to strike up a conversation; instead, they merely stared.

Judging by the fear etched on their faces, it seemed just being near Ian gave them a sense of safety.

Ian surveyed them briefly before addressing Priest Deon.

“Wouldn’t it be better to send them back to the fortress first?”

“I’ll follow your wishes, Inquisitor.”

The next village wasn’t far, and there was nothing specific for the soldiers to do if they accompanied them.

Hearing Ian’s suggestion, the soldiers visibly relaxed, and Priest Deon called over a fellow priest among the group, exchanging a few words before stepping forward to lead the way.

The soldiers parted to make a path. As Ian passed, they bowed respectfully, expressing their gratitude.

“If only we had horses, we’d be able to get there faster. It’s a shame.”

The horses pulling the carts had been slaughtered along with the soldiers guarding the village entrance.

As a result, Ian anticipated an awkward and grueling journey, but Priest Deon turned out to be quite talkative.

“I’ve heard much about your reputation, Inquisitor.”

“There are many fascinated by your heroic deeds.”

“As one of them, I must say it’s an honor to meet you in person.”

“They say you eradicated the remnants of the Dark Mages’ lair?”

Hmm.

“In Flaming, it’s said people who used drugs mutated into monsters. Did they retain any intelligence?”

“What was it like facing the Black Dragon on the Gehiel Plains? How large was it? As big as the distant mountains? How did you defeat it?”

Hmm.

Not just many questions—an overwhelming amount.

Despite the gravity of the situation, having slain two Battle Wraith in the village with the possibility of more nearby, Priest Deon’s nerves seemed unshakably steady.

Strangely enough, while Ian found such chatter might normally be irritating, it wasn’t particularly bothersome this time.

The priest had a knack for effortlessly continuing the conversation whenever it seemed about to stall. His praises were pleasant to hear as well.

Ian couldn’t help but think that if Deon hadn’t become a priest, he might’ve made an excellent courtier.

Thanks to him, the initial awkwardness quickly faded, and they were soon conversing comfortably.

“Oh, and Inquisitor, I hope this isn’t too presumptuous of me, but…”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you know of Priest Angelo?”

Ian’s expression shifted subtly at the unexpected name. If it was Angelo, that referred to the priest he met during his first mission assigned by Bishop Gawon.

“I’ve worked with him before on a mission. Are you two acquainted?”

“We’re from the same school. We trained together and still exchange letters regularly. Priest Angelo used to boast about meeting you and the Hero, and it seems he wasn’t exaggerating.”

“Of course not. I still remember how valiantly he wielded his flail and shield against the beasts. Is he doing well?”

The mention of a mutual acquaintance made Ian noticeably more engaged in the conversation. The saying about shared connections—academic, familial, or regional—proved true yet again.

“Perhaps influenced by you and the Hero, he’s now walking the path of a paladin rather than a priest.”

“Oh? Is that even possible? I didn’t think it was a role one could simply choose.”

“That friend of mine always had extraordinary talent. He was far better at swinging a mace than memorizing scriptures. He even received an invitation from the Order of Paladins’ leader, but his refusal, saying he despised killing, became a famous story among our peers.”

Given Ian’s role as an inquisitor, it wouldn’t be surprising if he encountered Angelo again someday, especially now that he was pursuing the paladin’s path.

As the conversation about Angelo continued, Priest Deon paused to take a sip of water.

During the brief silence, Ian reached into his pocket and felt something. Pulling it out, he examined the object.

‘This is….’

It was the charred ring he had taken from the corpse of the Battle Wraith. With all the chaos, he had completely forgotten about it.

A ring that survived temperatures high enough to reduce human bones to ashes couldn’t possibly be ordinary.

‘Ah, it’s slightly melted.’

As Ian rubbed off the soot with his thumb, he noticed the design on the ring was partially damaged.

That confirmed it wasn’t an ancient relic.

It had to be a magical artifact. But considering it had been worn by a Battle Wraith, Ian hesitated to investigate its properties by channeling magic into it.

Wearing such an item recklessly could invite curses or mental corruption.

He examined the ring closely. The design resembled a crescent moon, with something in front of it, wings spread wide.

‘If it weren’t for the bird, it might look like a symbol for Eclipse….’

The sun and moon were common symbols, so it was too early to draw conclusions. Moreover, the winged figure added an unfamiliar element.

It felt strangely familiar, but he couldn’t immediately place it.

Noticing the ring, Priest Deon slowed his pace and showed interest.

“May I take a look?”

“Of course.”

Ian, feeling cautious but curious, handed the ring to him.

Deon stopped walking and held the ring up to the sunlight, studying it carefully.

From his expression, it seemed he might know something.

“Hm. First off, I must admit I’m no expert in magic. So I can’t decipher the function of the engravings on this ring.”

Neither could Ian.

“But this design… it looks familiar. Taking the melted damage into account, it closely resembles the emblem used by the White Owl Mercenaries, who guard the Silver Wave Caravan.”

Ian took back the ring.

The Silver Wave Caravan was well-known to him. They were merchants dealing in jewels, relics, and other valuable goods, backed by immense wealth. Ian himself had leveraged their network during his treasure-hunting days before his return.

And he also remembered the White Owl Mercenaries who guarded them.

Men in white masks.

Silent to the point of being unsettling, yet their demeanor was strikingly insolent.

Lock eyes with one, and they would draw their swords without hesitation. That rule applied to everyone, regardless of rank or status.

Because of this, people often called them unhinged, and Ian knew the Silver Wave Caravan had faced several difficulties because of their behavior.

‘Is that why it feels familiar?’

Now that Deon mentioned it, the design did seem similar to the emblem used by the White Owl Mercenaries.

However, their emblem didn’t include the crescent moon in the background. It seemed unlikely for such an element to be added without meaning.

‘…I’ll need to look into this.’

———-