Chapter 81
There was no way he didn’t understand that, in the end, everything came down to legitimacy.
‘They’ll be here soon.’
Since he had made no attempt to conceal the fact that he had been cursed, that much was inevitable.
Sensing the growing commotion outside, Abel turned to Felix.
“Which brings me to my point. Since they attacked me like this, it’ll be even easier for them to go after you.”
“……”
The moment Felix realized what Abel was about to say, his expression froze for an entirely different reason. But there was no helping it.
“Felix. Move into my room.”
This wasn’t a suggestion. It was an order.
* * *
The Temple was thrown into complete upheaval.
Even the priests who normally kept Abel in check were overcome with fury the moment they saw the strands of his hair preserved inside the glass bottle.
Not because they were especially concerned for Abel himself, but because of what he represented and the immense value he held.
To the outside world, Abel was the Temple, and the Temple was Abel. An attack on Abel was nothing less than an attack on the Temple itself.
On top of that, Abel’s worth to the Temple was beyond measure.
If anything were to happen to him, the Temple would suffer immeasurable losses.
The holy water business alone would be thrown into chaos.
“How could anyone dare commit such an atrocity?”
Abel silently watched the usually composed, self-important elders shouting at the top of their lungs, their faces flushed with outrage.
The clamor was irritating and grating, but he made no attempt to silence them. He was using the commotion to see who among them belonged to Gregory.
Just like everyone else, roughly half of the people present were flushed with anger, raising their voices in outrage, while the other half stayed quiet, carefully reading the room and watching the Pope’s reaction.
The latter group seemed uncertain how they ought to respond to what had happened. They were well aware of the subtle power struggle that had recently been unfolding between Abel and the Pope. Some of them were probably even wondering whether the Pope himself was behind this incident.
But that did not necessarily mean those in the first group knew nothing.
Even if they knew the Pope was responsible, there were undoubtedly people who were deliberately putting on a show of anger to avoid arousing suspicion.
In the end, it meant there was no way to determine whether they were involved based on nothing more than their expressions or behavior.
Picking up the glass vial resting in front of him, Abel spoke.
“I’ll find the culprit myself.”
The people who had been shouting among themselves about how the culprit had to be found all turned toward him.
“Lord Abel?”
“You intend to investigate personally? It’s too dangerous. Please leave this matter to us—”
Abel cut through the chorus of objections.
“In return, I’d like the authority to decide the culprit’s punishment.”
Looking directly at Gregory, Abel asked:
“What do you think?”
Gregory, who had been seated with an unusually grave expression because of the seriousness of the incident, replied.
“Of course. The authority to punish the culprit belongs to you, Lord Abel. But it would be dangerous for you to investigate personally. After all, what happened today…”
Gregory’s gaze drifted to Abel’s newly shortened hair.
A stir rippled through the priests gathered in the conference room.
His cropped hair was proof that Abel had been attacked. And a reminder that he was, in the end, only human.
For people who had always regarded him as an untouchable being, someone so far above them they sometimes wondered whether he truly belonged to the same world, realizing that he, too, could be wounded was a profound shock.
But there was no way Abel would simply let that impression stand.
“I didn’t leave it like this because I couldn’t remove it.”
Another glass vial appeared in Abel’s hand.
The others frowned in confusion at the black powder inside, no longer recognizable as its original form. But the moment holy power flowed into the vial, their eyes widened.
By then, Abel was already rolling another glass vial, this one filled with white hair, across the table as he said:
“It’s my way of accepting the challenge.”
His bored gaze swept across the room.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve faced such a direct challenge. Not since that last time…”
The soft clatter of the glass vial rolling across the tabletop echoed through the room as uneasy glances passed from one person to another.
It was only natural, given that Abel had brought up a past event he had never mentioned before.
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