Witch trial certificate. A certificate written by the priest who presided over the witch trial for people who were acquitted, with this, suspicions of witchcraft could be completely washed away.

The problem was that ninetynine out of a hundred people died during the witch trials and did not receive it.

Anyway, even without having a witch trial, the idea of writing the certificate was laughable.

“Can you write it so recklessly, without even verifying it?”

At the sneering words, Trope flinched and kept his mouth shut for a moment, then politely brought his hands together and replied.

“I hope you can think of it as compensation for the great indiscretion we have committed against Your Grace.”

Refusing to acknowledge Irene as not a witch until the end.

Carlos was not pleased with Trope’s attitude, but he didn’t say anything.

Getting recognition from them was not important.

The important thing was to get the certificate. It was what Carlos had been aiming for from the beginning.

With this, everything that happened after Jerdine came to Esper’s territory will proceed without a hitch.

‘Everything is going smoothly.’

While it was natural to be pleased if things went according to plan, the concern was that if ‘that person’ was involved in this matter, it wouldn’t be resolved easily.

Is it really just an arbitrary act of the temple, with no connection to that person at all?

“Then let’s return to the castle and write the certificate.”

Carlos turned, bearing the unanswered question in his heart.

Upon returning to the castle, Carlos called only Trope to his office. Since the person signing the certificate was Trope, there was no need to involve others, according to his opinion.

Having to monitor Polo, who was judged to be a devil, Trope went into Carlos’s office alone.

In the office, not only Carlos but Irene was there too.

It was natural that she was there as the party under suspicion, but Trope was not pleased and straightened his lips.

At the same time, he questioned whether it was really okay to write the certificate.

It was even more concerning since issuing the witch trial confirmation certificate would prevent any witch trials against Irene in the future, even if any suspicions arose. But soon, he concluded that it couldn’t be helped.

It was far better than rumors that a devil had appeared among the priests.

Carlos handed Trope highquality parchment, a quill, and ink.

“Write it.”

Trope did not pick up the quill right away, but spoke to Carlos.

“Please write a vow that you will keep your promise first.”

If the certificate was issued, and Carlos changed his mind on a whim, it would be difficult, so a vow was absolutely necessary.

Trope was determined not to give in and push through even if Carlos was displeased, but unexpectedly, Carlos obediently agreed.

First, he wrote the vow, and then he wrote on the parchment according to the format of the witch trial confirmation certificate.

Lastly, he poured special wax, infused with sacred power, and stamped a seal on it.

“Here it is.”

After Carlos confirmed that there was no problem with the certificate, he showed it to Irene.
“If this is disclosed to the world, no one will be able to point fingers at you and call you a witch.”

Irene’s eyes were slightly moist after checking the certificate. Carlos gently wiped away the tear at the corner of her eye and asked,

“Why are you crying when you’ve finally cleared your name?”

“Because I’m happy.”

Irene hurriedly brushed it aside so that her tears wouldn’t fall on the precious certificate as she replied,

“I’m so happy that I’ve cleared my name… that’s why I’m crying.”

“Crying even though you’re happy? That’s strange.”

Her ears turned slightly red at his teasing tone, and Carlos smiled as if he found her adorable.

Trofe, who had been left out like a broom, looked at Carlos and Irene with unexpected eyes, pouting discontentedly.

Carlos was rumored to be a ruthless demon who neither bled nor cried and even enjoyed eating human flesh.

Yet, this affectionate behavior seemed strange. It was said that even the most brutal tyrant turns into a gentle sheep in front of the woman he loves, but this felt too inconsistent.

Was that woman truly a witch?

It seemed much more credible that she had bewitched Carlos, turning him into a gentle sheep.

“Why are you looking like that?”

A voice cold as frost snapped Trofe out of his thoughts, and he quickly shook his head.

“Ah, it’s nothing.”

Carlos looked at Trofe with displeasure, then turned to Irene with a gentle gaze.

“You must be tired; go rest in your room for today. I’ll come to your room later.”

As soon as Irene left the office, Trofe spoke earnestly,

“Please keep your promise to bury this incident.”

Carlos’s eyebrow tilted sharply.

“Even with an oath, you don’t trust me?”

“Oh, no! I was just checking.”

A groveling expression crossed his face. Scrambling to his feet, Trofe bowed deeply.

“I will take my leave then.”

As Trofe was turning away, the door opened, and a man with deep golden hair, like the melted sun, entered the office.

“It’s been a while, Master.”

That man was none other than the Crown Prince of the Luman Empire, Zerdin.

The Temple was not on bad terms with the Esper family as it was with the royal family, but it wasn’t on good terms either.

They were in an awkward relationship, each trying to seize the power that the other had, but never able to completely overthrow each other because they needed one another.

With the appearance of the Crown Prince, Trofe’s face turned pale.

“Who is this priest?”

When Zerdin looked at him, Trofe trembled and bowed his head, completely forgetting to introduce himself.

“It’ll be okay.”

Although surprised by the sudden appearance of the Crown Prince, there was no need to worry. Zerdin wouldn’t know anything; he had just arrived and couldn’t possibly know.

“Ah, I heard a special priest has appeared, so it seems that’s why you came.”

Hoping it would be okay, that hope was shattered before long.