From the Tip of the Tongue of the Lowliest Maid - Chapter 156

This work contains scenes of sadistic coercion and hardcore depictions of BDSM. Reader discretion is advised.

At Del Rose’s strict command, the priest standing in the center stepped forward. Judging by the fact that he was in the center and wearing a slightly different priest’s robe than the others, Theogrim could tell that he was the chief priest, the leader of this group.

“We do not know what kind of illness it is.”

“What do you mean by that? An illness that you, who have the highest healing power in the great temple of Impellias, do not know?”

“There is nothing wrong with the Lord’s body. We cannot find any wounds or symptoms of illness. It’s as if…”

The chief priest was an old man, and as was generally the case with Impellias’s priests, he had sharp and cold eyes. Priests with a strong sense of entitlement rarely hesitated when saying something.

Such a man was now hesitating to speak.

Theogrim opened his kind eyes wide and stared directly at him. As if to say that he would not forgive him if he lied or hid the truth.

At Del Rose’s normally gentle but now strict gaze, the chief priest opened his mouth as if he had made up his mind.

“It is as if… a curse has been placed upon him; he is only coughing up black blood.”

The chief priest’s expression as he said this was grief-stricken. He seemed to be ashamed that he, a priest, could not identify the symptoms and had to utter the word, ‘curse’.

Or perhaps he thought it was a word too inauspicious to use for a great Lord, of all people.

But there was nothing he, as a priest, could do.

Through numerous holy wars, the priests of Impellias had long studied wound treatment and illnesses. The strong healing power of the temple was a great force in Impellias’s rise to its current status.

There was no doubt.

The symptoms the Lord was now experiencing were clearly similar to the symptoms of a curse.

It was hard to believe that such a thing could happen to the greatest Holy Knight, the teacher of the most righteous believers, and the ruler of this domain.

“A curse…?”

Theogrim, who repeated the words uttered by the chief priest, slowly contorted his face.

After a moment, he laughed.

“Hahaha, a curse, a curse, you say. Haha!”

Theogrim’s clear voice spread into the Lord’s black bedchamber. He laughed and glared at the chief priest with sharp eyes.

“—!”

A moment later, a scabbard was thrust under the chief priest’s chin. It had happened in an instant.

“Del Rose—!”

Ianes, who had been standing behind Theogrim, cried out in surprise. The priests who had been standing behind the chief priest stepped forward as if to protect him.

The chief priest, without a single tremor, lowered only his sharp eyes and looked down at the scabbard that was being held under his chin.

The sword was still in its scabbard.

Theogrim’s jaw trembled. The fingertips of the hand holding the scabbard to the chief priest’s Adam’s apple also trembled slightly. His face, with his lips pressed together to hide his emotions, was pale. But even at that moment, Theogrim’s noble dignity was not harmed in the least.

“Have some shame, priest.”

“……”

“For the chief priest of Impellias to dare to utter the word ‘curse’ to the Lord.”

The chief priest silently met the bloodshot eyes that looked at him. The eyes, filled with passion for God and loyalty to the Lord, were calm but hot. As if he had been molded from the very word ‘youth’, Theogrim’s young purity and passion were a light as blue as the sky.

The chief priest, marveling at his blueness and at the same time sighing inwardly at Del Rose’s human frailty, which still could not hide his wounded heart, pushed the scabbard away with his finger.

“If, for some reason, the Lord is unable to regain his strength, Del Rose must lead this domain.”

“How dare you say such a thing…!”

“The Lord would not have shown such anger so easily.”

At the chief priest’s strict words, Theogrim inhaled sharply. The way his elegant and delicate neck stiffened from his held breath was as dramatic as a scene from a holy painting.

Tension filled the faces of those who had been standing behind Theogrim, at a loss for what to do.

This was Del Rose, who had always been gentle, who had never once acted aggressively towards others.

And the reason for his anger now was clear.

“…You must find the cause of the Lord’s illness.”

Theogrim lowered the scabbard. The violet eyes giving the command burned with coldness.

“He is the representative of God. How dare you say a curse has been placed upon him; I will not forgive such nonsense. Do not tarnish the Lord’s honor.”

The fingertips of Theogrim’s hand, holding the scabbard, trembled.

“…I beg of you.”

Theogrim’s sincere plea moved the hearts of those standing behind him. Just as it always had.

And that was, subtly, in a slightly different direction than Theogrim’s own oratory.