He'd been told the day before that someone had spotted the Faceless One, as some of his colleagues among the fourteen and almost everyone in the clergy referred to him.

When Gregor received the Faty Adidy order on that person's head, he was left perplexed, for it was the first time in the Cult of the Seven Apostles' history that every Archbishop and Holy Paladin was tasked with personally disposing of a single individual.

His first assumption was that that individual was extremely powerful and dangerous for the Church to go to such lengths to find and dispose of him, and the fact that little to nothing was known about him, nor the nature of his magic nor his face, let alone the location where he could potentially be, only reinforced that assumption.

Each of the fourteen knew that finding that faceless one would be, as some of them were rough enough to call it, a "pain in the arse," but since it was their duty, they all did their best.

A statement with which Gregor couldn’t agree less.

That being said, it wasn’t as if he didn't invest himself in finding the person that "Faty Adidy" was placed upon.

In fact, he was more interested than anyone else in capturing and disposing of that infamous faceless one, given that, as the last one assigned to a seat among the fourteen, personally disposing of that faceless one would strengthen his position as Archbishop.

The previous Archbishop in charge of Djeem the Accursed's authority was someone who could only be described as eccentric and definitely deficient as a human being. He didn't see any difference between the title of Archbishop and the title of Holy Paladin; he perfectly encapsulates what Archbishop Medvedik disliked the most.

The previous Archbishop was the type of person who did whatever he wanted, including abdicating his cardinal duties whenever he pleased. It was exactly like that he died.

He met his death during the last crusade, and thus the title of Archbishop and all the mess the previous Archbishop left behind befell on him: Gregor Medvedick, who was at the time his subsidiary inheritor.

Archbishop Medvedick understood that he was weaker than anyone among his fellow fourteens. There was no hiding it, and with the unique magic he was endowed with, he knew very well that, in their eyes, he was just a substitute for their lost comrade.

To him, the Faty Adidy under the Faceless One's head offered the perfect opportunity for me to prove my worth, that is as long as he was the one to find and dispose of him.

But he never had the chance to seize that opportunity, for no one had ever found any trace of the Faceless One, to the point where some of them were beginning to wonder if that person ever existed at all until he received word late last night, out of the blue, that the Faceless One had been spotted somewhere in the Aubrecht Castle.

With the strength of that person unknown, he took with him his cousin, the Holy Paladin Dominik, and his son-in-law, the Vicar Barbosse, whose ability would come in handy if they felt they would have no other choice but to flee.

When they arrived in Beaumont, the Archbishop came to furiously learn that those incompetents of the local church had somehow managed to lose sight of the Faceless One.

After a heated interrogation with those present in the Aubrecht castle, particularly those from the Edouard family, he discovered that only one person was missing from the party; a child.

If they had simply told him that that child had been taken away for whatever reason, and if it hadn't been for Gregor's ability to smell, he might have believed them, and simply let it slide without his whereabouts remotely interesting to him.

Yet he was lied to and actively concealed the truth from.

He wasn't sure if that was the one we were looking for, but a lot seemed to point toward that direction.

He sent his clergymen after the child, to check to see whether or not he was indeed the faceless one; if he wasn't, they were to leave immediately; if he was, they were to summon the archbishop immediately and not engage with them.

But even that seemed too much to ask of them; for they still somehow managed to find a way to kill themselves.

Still, despite all of it, it appeared he was right in his assumption. The one the church was looking for was a nine-year-old young boy, a child who was only a year away from being coronated.

Though the Archbishop had no idea why a newborn would have a Faty Adidy under his head since it's usually reserved for those who represent a danger to the church, and he couldn't see how a child like him could pose a danger to them, it all finally made sense to him.

On the day they received that order nine years ago, that child must’ve been born, or at the very least was still a mere newborn.

Even the Archbishop realized how ridiculous it was.

What could a child have possibly done to earn such wariness from that person? After all, he sent his fourteen executives after one person. There had to be a reason somewhere behind it.

Though he did try to extract answers from the boy, it seemed he wouldn't get them anytime soon, since even he seemed to ignore what he was the faceless one for.

Which is why the Archbishop did not insist upon it.

He doubted the child had ever done anything, but it dawned upon him the responsibility, as he swore to that person, unfortunate though it be, to dispose of the faceless one.

A death by his cousin's magic, a quick and painless death, was the best he could offer.

Just as he was about to give the signal to Dominik to end it all, the butler whom he had impaled in the beginning rose from his feet, saying that he had answers to his earlier questions and that in order to answer my question, he first wanted to ask Dominik to unwind himself because he was frightened.

Gregor took no orders from commoners, but when the man announced that he had been the child's butler for a long time and that he knew something that might interest him. Curious, the Archbishop allowed the man to speak, since he knew, thanks to his magic that reveals to him which state people are in when speaking to him, that the butler was truly terrified, so he allowed him to speak.

He thought it would be fine for them to ease up, and it was only then that he realized how much of a big mistake it was.

After spewing some nonsense into the air, the man abruptly tore out a necklace he was wearing around his neck, causing a massive explosion that engulfed everyone. The necklace he was wearing was a one-use magical item that contained something they later discovered, at their own expense, to be an explosive spell.

The butler was well aware of what would occur if he activated it, which made the Archbishop realize that the fear he felt from the butler's was not for them, but rather for what awaited him if he did unleash that frozen spell, which he ended up doing anyway.

***

"Dom, Are you okay?"

"It was a close call. You were right, it was the right choice to bring Lucille and Cecille along," the Holy Paladin sighed in relief.

That explosion was the last thing they were expecting.

The Archbishop Medvedick had no idea where or how such a magical item could've ended up in the hand of a commoner like him. But it came across as clear that the level of destruction it caused was an attack worthy of one of the fourteen, for there was almost nothing left but the crumble of one of his cousin's two shields, which was also a magical item forged specifically to fit his cousin's physical and mana constitution.

If his cousin hadn't used his magic to shield them, there would’ve been nothing left of them but incandescent ashes.

"It really took me by surprise. Who would have thought that that butler would’ve done this?

"Sorry, I couldn’t tell he was planning to do that."

"It was nothing. What about them?"

By "them," he was referring to the child and the butler.

"The butler is dead, for sure, but the child is..."

As the fog of fire and smoke was slowly dissipating, the Archbishop slowly noticed a small silhouette slowly drawing itself within the smoke where the child before the explosion was.

He was on his knee, ‘Was he injured by the explosion?’ the Archbishop wondered, but those were interrupted by something sudden.

Dominik suddenly rose to his feet, shoving the Archbishop aside before wedging himself forward and bracing himself with the only shield he had left, creating a small barrier, just enough to protect himself.

It happened so fast that it took the Archbishop some time to register what had just happened.

Something massive slammed into the Holy Paladin, shattering his barrier and his shield and obliterating him, sending him blasting away into the distance.

One of the Archbishop's first reflexes was to run for assistance after his cousin, but something, he felt it to the bone, something from where that thing that obliterated Dominik had come from, attracted more of his attention.

Peering beyond the fog, he saw it.

It was crawling on the ground like a rampant beast. It tried to stand up, but with each step he took, the ground insisted on liquifying beneath its feet, turning the former solid ground into small quagmires.

Wailing out a strident cry, fog-like matter sapped forth from his body, to hover above him to form something close to an adult human silhouette.

As the boy kept crawling toward the Archbishop and the others, the silhouette reached out his arm onto him, into which the boy, like an injured animal seeking shelter, crawled into. As he tightly clung onto the silhouette, his eyes met the Archbishop’s, and from a distance, Gregor saw the boy mutter the words, by reading his lips, "Kill them."

From where he’d been shoved aside by his cousin, the Archbishop stood up and gripped Frior, his white staff, tightly.

That which obliterated his cousin wasn't cast by a magical item; he could tell for he knew and understood what exactly it was.

While magic is that which is summoned forth by using mana, mana itself could also be used to achieve things or to attack, but due to the wasteful nature of that maneuver, it is common practice to harness mana into magic, whether elemental or not, rather than use it in such a crude manner.

That which obliterated the Holy Paladin, his barrier and his shield, was in no way magic; it was simply a raw attack of mana.

That child, or perhaps it would be more accurate to call it that thing, broke free from his baptismal. The ground turning liquid and the foggy hue enveloping his entire body were unmistakable shreds of evidence of this.

Perhaps it was instinct, but at that moment, the Archbishop felt as if every hair on my body was standing on end while a bone-chilling cold was coursing through his entire body.

He was tempted to escape, but a quick glance back to his cousin revealed to him that the latter was still alive, though seemingly heavily injured, for blood was pooling beneath him. Besides, whatever that silhouette was, he had the clear impression that it would not let him leave.

Gregor sighed.

Today he realized he made two mistakes, the first being to send away the one among them wielding teleportation magic and the second being listening to that butler and not killing that child right away. But if he did something right that night, it would be to have found the one the church has for nine years straight been looking for, the Faceless One.