Martha could never forget the first time she locked eyes with the child.

The young one wrapped in a fur coat stared intently at her without shedding a tear. The child’s obsidian eyes seemed so deep and dark, they were like mirrors reflecting not a glimmer of light, as if they were devouring her reflection from their glossy surface and even sucking in her soul.

For a moment, Martha barely restrained the impulse to throw the fur coat away.

“…you’re one sharp-eyed bast*rd.”

Aslan felt frozen, unable to move a muscle. Kaien’s words carried a great deal of implication. He was the one who caused all this, and Aslan was his target.

Could his words be true? If so, how and why?

As Aslan’s face hardened, Kaien sneered and walked past him, with a limping gait. Aslan could only watch, mouth shut, as Kaien moved further away from the square. Aslan and Bart were moved to Aslan’s shack under the watchful eyes of several bandits. This indicated Jerome’s suspicion had not yet cleared.

“We need to check the traps we set…”

“Are the traps the problem right now? Read the room, bast*rd.”

At Aslan’s words, one of the bandits spat out a glob of spit and locked the door from the outside. It was a clear sign of confinement. Well, it’s fortunate that they weren’t locked in the makeshift jail used as a village barn.

Drained of strength, Aslan slumped down, leaning against the wall and slid onto the floor of the shack.

“Bart.”

Bart, who seemed deep in thought, turned to look at him.

“Did you ask Kaien yesterday if he harbored any resentment?”

“…”

“Do you think this could really all be Kaien’s doing?”

Bart’s eyes glistened with a strange silvery glow as he looked at Aslan in the dark shack.

“Don’t let that kid’s words sway you. It’s all calculated provocation.”

Calculated?

Staring blankly up at Bart, he began to explain in a calm voice.

“The first is to make you doubt him and work hard to clear your own suspicion. As for you, you don’t know whether he’s responsible or not, and there’s no way to confirm it. But if you know someone is framing you, it’s easy to fall into another trap by reacting rashly out of a sense of crisis.”

“Ahh…”

Indeed. Aslan was contemplating whether Kaien was trying to frame him, and whether he should pursue Kaien out of the shack.

“The second reason is to observe your reaction and see to what extent you are aware of the situation, and whether avoiding major suspicion was pure luck or not.”

“…”

What was Aslan’s reaction then? Thanks to Bart’s warning, he had a sense that something was about to happen, and thus had honestly responded to Kaien’s insinuation.

Now, Kaien must be sure that Aslan knows something about the matter.

“…He’s a smart kid. Perhaps he had this situation in mind when he persuaded you to take me.”

What?

“Persuade… you say?”

As Aslan’s eyes widened in surprise, Bart casually tilted his head and responded, “Didn’t you say Jerome was a suspicious man? Even when you arrived, he had a stronger intention to kill me. It was the kid’s insistence that changed his mind, wasn’t it?”

…Was that so?

“Whether it’s you or me, if one of us is suspected of being a spy, it works out for him.”

Aslan realized that he knew nothing about Kaien.

How did he perceive him until now?

The son of Jerome and Martha. The boy who became a cripple from Jerome’s abuse, pouring his rage onto the world. A boy who wanted to kill everyone in the world and who spewed hate at every opportunity. A boy whose existence was nothing but a nuisance to everyone.

But what if every aspect of that behavior was calculated?

“Eh, I mean…. Isn’t that too far-fetched?”

Although he tried to brush it off with a hollow laugh, Aslan himself did not sound convinced. If Bart’s words were true, then what was Kaien’s purpose in behaving this way? No, could he gain anything from this behavior?

Aslan racked his brain for a moment but couldn’t think of anything. After all, he couldn’t fully comprehend Kaien’s words, let alone guess his complicated intentions!

Arrrrrgh.

As Aslan was wildly tousling his hair, Bart glanced at him for a moment before walking over to one side of the shack. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

“These things will sort themselves out with time. You’ll be flustered soon, so it’s best to rest and save your strength.”

He did seem a bit tired.

Aslan instinctively sensed the aura around Bart, but it was still at the level of a dying patient. It was surprising that he had been able to move around the mountain with him since morning with that level of aura.

Ah, speaking of which.

“If there’s time, should we treat the wounds first?”

Aslan hurriedly stood up and began gathering medicine bottles from the shelf. These were salves to prevent wounds from worsening and to help bruises heal faster. They were all made by Aslan himself, according to Seymour’s special prescription.

Even just trying to move his hand, his wrist felt ragged. It might be better to put something on the inside of the handcuffs. He had just attempted to move his hand when he noticed his wrist had become chafed. Perhaps it would be best to pad something on the inside of the handcuffs.

At first, Bart didn’t understand what was going on, merely observing Aslan’s actions, but as Aslan approached with a medicine bottle and clean cloth, he finally seemed to understand what was happening.

“Ah, if it’s about that….”

He tried to dissuade him belatedly, but Aslan was quicker, grabbing his handcuffs.

“….?”

Aslan, who had been absentmindedly fiddling with the cuffs, widened his eyes in surprise. Bart’s wrists were smooth, as if they had never been bruised.

“What?”

He looked at Bart’s face, then at his wrist, and then said again.

“What?”

Hmm. Bart averted Aslan’s gaze and hid his hand beneath his long robe. “Didn’t I mention that I was a priest before becoming an apothecary? It’s natural for someone with divine power.”

“But, Gustav didn’t have this kind of ability?”

Despite being a lower-ranked priest, Gustav was quite a potent wielder of divine power. But even he couldn’t recover so quickly without praying fervently and using his divine power. No, even then, it wouldn’t have healed this cleanly in an instant.

Besides, hadn’t you lost all your divine power while being judged for heresy?

The mark of a demon worshiper was not a regular mark.

A mark indicating that one has been stripped of all blessings from the Lord, and even lost the right to salvation for their soul. An eternal punishment from which one cannot escape, even in death. It was not called the worst punishment and extreme penalty for nothing.

“The Lord pities and takes care of even His lost young believers in such a way.”

Aslan’s face twisted.

Does that even make sense? Suddenly preaching heresy, you demon worshiper.

“Just to confirm, you aren’t a spy disguised as a prisoner…right?”

“…I’m not a spy, but….”

“But?”

“….”

“Ah, seriously! What did I get myself into with Jerome!”

‘Just like that. Maybe I should go and poke Jerome about all this.’

For a moment, Aslan glared at Bart with a scowl, then soon let out a sigh, and started wrapping the piece of cloth he brought around Bart’s wrist. Bart quietly observed and let him do his thing as Aslan wrapped the cloth thickly around, layer by layer.

Finally, having meticulously tied the knot, Aslan tidied up the medicine bottle, grumbling, “It’s better to heal quickly without leaving any scars. But it wouldn’t look good to others either.”

If someone witnessed a bruise disappearing so quickly, they’d immediately suspect him as a spy. It seemed Bart hadn’t considered this, his eyes widening briefly before he nodded.

“Right, thank you.”

Aslan suddenly felt strange. He had heard a similar expression of gratitude yesterday, but he felt a subtle difference in its warmth today.

“So…you really aren’t a spy?”

“…No.”

“The only one who could be a spy is that bast*rd, boss. No doubt about it.” A rough-looking bandit growled, rolling up his sleeves.

“He’s definitely the one who killed Conrad! If we just get rid of that demon worshiper, everything will be sorted out!”

“He only arrived yesterday. And one of the bodies we found has been dead for at least three days.” Jerome waved his hand dismissively, looking annoyed.

“Damn it, why are you making this so complicated!”

“Right, boss. There’s nothing wrong with killing a suspicious person in the first place, right?”

“It’s weird that he suddenly showed up in the mountains. And it’s also weird that he purposely came through the trading route that merchants rarely use, right?”

As his followers’ agreement with the man began to increase, Jerome’s gaze changed. “Or maybe someone wants to pin the blame on him and get rid of him? Or maybe there’s a rat amongst us who needs to shut him up.”

“……”

The atmosphere in the hut froze in an instant.

Jerome was a formidable leader. He was so competent that, prior to Rohan’s punitive forces sweeping the mountains, he pre-empted by rallying his men and demonstrated his formidable power by migrating south. As a result, his men followed him without any hint of hesitation.

However, he was as suspicious as he was competent. And those who were even slightly suspected by him never lasted long in the band of bandits.

“…Could it be that damned Aslan’s doing?”

A bandit, who had been keeping a wary eye, cautiously opened his mouth.

Two bodies had been discovered near flower village the previous night. After midnight, the search party returning to the village found the violently tortured bodies to the east of the village and reported it to Jerome. Those guys had been holed up in the brothel for days, drinking themselves into oblivion after robbing the upper echelons a few days ago, and the village hadn’t even noticed their absence.

Jerome and the bandits thought of Aslan first when they saw the bodies. He was the only one who usually roamed the eastern mountain, hunting and gathering medicinal herbs as an excuse. And there had been ominous rumors lately that there were signs of organizing a punitive force from Asein, or that Asein had already sent spies before the punitive operation.

However, Jerome, who had been about to immediately catch and kill Aslan, hesitated due to a snide comment from Kaien, who was teasing from behind.

-Why would that bast*rd do it? Does he have the capability?

At his words, Jerome regained his composure and started to ponder. His habitual suspicions started to creep in.

Come to think of it, why would he do that? Was it something he did alone? If he was killed out of anger right now, wouldn’t it leave them without any clues?

So Jerome ordered his men to keep an eye on Aslan’s movements. If any decisive evidence or suspicious-looking guys appeared, they planned to take their time, catch the guy, and force all the concealed facts out of him. But today, a new body was found.

Apparently, a dead subordinate was found rolling near the waterfall where Aslan often went, with a dagger stuck in him. The bloodstains on his back were still not dried. However, at that moment, Aslan was seen wandering somewhere completely different. The case was now at a dead end.

“It’s got to be him, hasn’t it?”

“Didn’t he also survive alone in the previous band of bandits? That’s suspicious too. Maybe he’s colluding with Rohan’s punitive forces…….”

Leaving the murmuring subordinates alone, Jerome sunk into thought.

Although he was too angry to think yesterday, he could not rule out the possibility that someone who knew where Aslan usually went tried to frame him.

If so, who could it be? Kaien, his son who disliked Aslan, came to mind first.

But yesterday, Kaien ended up dissuading Jerome from killing Aslan……

Jerome’s eyes turned towards Kaien, sitting with his fat face at the back.

Just then, the door of the hut was suddenly flung open.

“Boss! Boss! It’s a disaster!”

One of the haggard-looking subordinates rushed towards Jerome and, panting heavily, began to spill out words hurriedly.

“From the cliff, Mrs Martha fell off the cliff, and her condition is……”

“……!”

Jerome sprung up from his seat with a stern face.

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