Chapter 60

Here, the same truth held.

Even Silver-ranked mercenaries often retired altogether, or if they remained in the trade, they avoided the dirty, grueling work of slaying aberrant beasts. It was beneath them.

Yes, there were outliers—strange souls who chose hardship willingly. And against such rare company, Curtis ’s performance stood out all the more.

“Let’s say it’s both,” said Bishop Mayra, finally breaking the silence with a measured sip of tea. “It is unusual to see a mage of your caliber in a place like that.”

“I’ve heard you came seeking battle-tested training,” she continued, her sharp eyes half-lidded in appraisal.

“That’s correct.”

“I hope that is truly the case.”

“It is,” Curtis  replied, his voice calm but wary. “…Though I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

“There have been others, you see—men claiming the same. Seeking ‘experience,’ they said, yet clearly using it as a veil to cozy up to Lilia. Of course, none of them lasted. You, on the other hand, have endured two full months. That does lend some credibility… But sincerity is hard to measure, isn’t it?”

“You can’t peer into a man’s heart,” Curtis  said evenly.

“Precisely. So I hope you won’t take offense to my caution. I’ve known Lilia for over a decade, and in all that time, I’ve never seen her shine the way she does now. If that joy is built on a lie, even an unintended one… that would be tragic.”

Her voice was soft, almost maternal, like a mother quietly guarding the flame of her child’s happiness.

Curtis  gave a small, reassuring smile. “You don’t need to worry. I’ve never deceived Lady Lilia—well, unless you count the occasional white lie to soften Sister Jenny’s scoldings.”

“…She does have a rather naïve heart,” Mayra murmured.

“And you’re slightly misinformed on another point. It was she who approached me. I didn’t even know her name when she marched up and demanded we take a commission together.”

Mayra chuckled—quietly, but genuinely.

Curtis  adjusted his posture, the humor fading. “So… was that why I received your invitation?”

“In part, yes,” Mayra said without hesitation. “I wanted to see with my own eyes what kind of man you are. But that’s not the only reason.”

“Then, I’d like to hear it.”

“I’ve reviewed your record. You’ve targeted only the strongest of aberrants—those at least at the Silver level, if not higher. That’s not just for training, is it?”

“Cleaning out trash mobs is little more than glorified janitorial work.”

“Then perhaps you’d be interested in a certain task,” she said, her voice dipping low with intrigue. “One that may suit your… tastes.”

“I’ll listen. So long as it’s not the kind that’ll get me killed.”

“That… I can’t guarantee,” she admitted. “Though I don’t believe it will. Still, we both know better than to presume anything in this world.”

“Fair enough. I’ll hear the details before I decide.”

“So long as you don’t go blabbing about it before the time is right.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“It’s not forbidden to speak of, but if word spreads, it’ll only stir unnecessary fear.”

“I understand. So—what’s the quarry?”

“A demon.”

Mayra said it like she was mentioning a change in the weather. So offhandedly that Curtis  almost thought he misheard.

“…A demon?”

“Yes. A demon. Don’t panic—it’s not a true one.”

“There are false demons?”

“Do you think I’ve lost my mind?” she chuckled dryly. “If it were a real demon, it’d require a High Archbishop at the very least. Not me.”

She waved the thought away, then continued more seriously.

“If you agree to take part, I’ll explain everything in detail. But for now, think of it as cleansing the residue—the trace—of something infernal.”

“And you’re certain I belong on this task?”

“I summoned Lilia for this very purpose. If she’s suited, why wouldn’t you be? Besides… I’ll be going as well. So there’s little reason to worry.”

“You, Your Grace?”

“Defending the world from demonic corruption is the Church’s greatest calling. This is something I must see through personally.”

That… changed things. With Lilia and Mayra both involved, this didn’t sound like a suicide mission.

“And what exactly would I be doing?”

“Nothing different from what you’ve already done. Think of it as hunting a powerful, highly anomalous aberrant.”

“In that case… I’d like to hear the full details.”

Curtis  leaned forward, expression sharpening.

The discussion was long and weighty, but when it finally concluded, Curtis  emerged from the Bishop’s chamber, thoughts turning like gears behind his eyes.

He made his way through the cathedral halls to the waiting room, where he had sat before. Jenny and Lilia had gone in first—perhaps they’d returned there.

Half right.

The room indeed held two people, but not the ones Curtis  expected.

“Brother Curtis !”

Lilia sprang to her feet and rushed over to him with her usual bright energy.

Still lost in thought, Curtis  nodded absently—until his eyes landed on the second figure.
Not Jenny.

A stranger. A young man. Scowling. Arms crossed.

Before Curtis  could even assess him, Lilia stepped right into his line of sight.

“Did everything go well?”

“Yes… Where’s Sister Jenny?”

“She went to check if there was anything needing her attention. Said helping meant staying out of the way!”

“…That’s not exactly praise.”

“Oh, and Bishop Mayra requested your presence again!”

“Now?”

“Right now.”

“I’d better hurry then. See you soon!”

With that, Lilia darted from the room like a spring breeze.

And then—

“You.”

A voice, sharp as iron and twice as cold.

Curtis  turned.

Ah. Right. There was someone else here.

Now able to properly observe him, Curtis  noted he was likely in his early twenties—around Curtis ’s own age. With stillness, he might have passed for handsome. Might have.

But stillness was clearly not his strength.

“You’re Curtis , aren’t you?”

“…Pardon?”

“Don’t play dumb!”

Curtis  blinked. How had he known so quickly?

Ah. Right. Lilia had said his name aloud.

Impatience practically steamed off the man’s face.

“Well, yes. I am. And you are?”

“Kane Brutaine, second son of House Brutaine!” he announced proudly, voice resonating with inherited weight.

It was a bold declaration—clearly meant to impress.

Unfortunately, Curtis  didn’t recognize the name in the slightest.

Some noble house from the East, perhaps?

Still… there was something oddly familiar about it. A name he’d once overheard, tucked into some half-forgotten corner of conversation…

“Ah,” Curtis  said at last, a small grin tugging at his lips.
“The noble family that names its spells?”