Bang! It wasn’t a human colliding—it sounded more like two boulders smashing together.

Ivy’s body, bound in blue light, trembled violently as if convulsing, and I winced, turning my face away from her.

Soon after—Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!—the brutal, unrelenting sound of someone being smashed into the ground echoed through the air.

I didn’t need to look to vividly imagine the scene: Ivy, tossed around like a ragdoll, unable to even let out a single groan.

The garden fell silent. When the final thud sounded, I opened my tightly shut eyes.

Everyone’s gaze—Killian’s, the High Priest’s, and the others—was fixed on Ivy. Especially the High Priest, whose face had gone deathly pale, mouth agape in frozen shock, as if he’d witnessed something utterly unimaginable.

It had all happened so fast that no one could stop Edan. I, too, slowly turned my head toward Ivy, following the others.

“…!”

Her once-pristine white dress was shredded beyond recognition, soaked crimson with blood. Ivy lay sprawled on the ground, unconscious, her entire body limp and twisted—looking as if every bone inside her had shattered into pieces.

She… looks dead.

I turned to look at Edan. He, as if nothing had happened, lazily shifted his gaze toward Killian and spoke with relaxed eyes.

“Take her away and punish her. She’s still breathing.”

What followed happened in an instant.

Ivy’s unconscious body was bound by the magical restraints brought by the holy knights—

“Lock her in the underground dungeon.”

At Killian’s command, the knights hoisted Ivy’s utterly limp body as if she were nothing more than a sack of rags.

Beneath the ruined, blood-and-pus-stained hem of her dress, one bare foot was visible.

Her once snow-white thigh had darkened into a muddy brown hue.

And her soles—blackened with dirt from thrashing against the grass. Every trace of the beautiful facade Ivy had artificially maintained had vanished without a trace.

Now, Ivy was nothing more than a grotesque witch.

She wouldn’t remember anything when she woke—assuming she ever did. She’d open her eyes only to find herself in utter darkness.

I recalled something Maxium had mentioned while we were rummaging through his books back at the mansion.

About the underground dungeon where he’d been briefly imprisoned.

A place so pitch-black you couldn’t even see your own hands, so silent it made your ears ache—with only the occasional skittering of insects, which tricked your mind into thinking something monstrous was about to leap out and devour you.

He said he’d only survived because Edan had secretly arranged for a temple maid to smuggle him supplies. Without that, he claimed, he wouldn’t have lasted.

Ivy would probably die down there.

Alone. In absolute darkness. Miserable and desolate.

I think it’s a fitting end for her. But even this, Ivy, you should be grateful for—compared to what you’ve done to the other Saintess candidates and to me, dying gently is mercy.

“I hope you regret it until your very last breath, Ivy.”

I watched until she disappeared beyond the building.

“My heavens…”

The High Priest, who had been staring at Ivy from a distance just like me, staggered backward and pressed his palm to his forehead.

His face, already pale, had turned even whiter—as if he’d suffered a severe shock.

Come to think of it… what do we do now? Even I have to admit, this situation is utterly absurd.

How did we even get here?

Holy knights from the temple, royal knights from the palace, and even Edan’s northern subordinates—

People who should never have crossed paths at this late hour of the night had somehow all gathered here.

The knights, previously scattered chasing after Ivy, now moved with disciplined precision back to their positions. Only then did I finally turn toward Edan.

“Do you see me now?”

Edan, who had already been looking at me, naturally extended his hand as if beckoning me over.

“Edan!”

“Yeah. Come here.”

I eagerly ran to him and grabbed his hand.

Just moments ago, I’d been limping from the bruise on my leg—but now that Edan was right in front of me, I didn’t even feel the pain anymore.

His large hand gently cradled mine.

His warmth was so tender and comforting—I would’ve thrown myself into his arms with all my strength if not for the crowd around us.

I sniffled, fighting back tears of relief, and looked up at him.

Up close, I noticed his clothes were stained with far more monster blood than I’d initially thought.

I carefully observed him—from the forehead and eyebrows revealed as he swept his hair aside, down along the bridge of his nose, across his cheeks, to his jawline.

Thankfully, no visible wounds. But he must be suffering from backlash if he’d used his ability.

He’d fought more passionately than anyone else, especially with the wall collapsed.

Even if he looked fine on the outside, inside he might be burning with agony.

“Are you okay?”

At my worried question, Edan lightly smirked.

“Who’s supposed to be worrying about whom, right now?”

“What about the wall? Did you handle it properly? You didn’t just brute-force it again, did you? Did you actually use your ability correctly?”

“You saw it earlier.”

“I mean besides what you did to Ivy—during the unbreakable wall, against the monsters. Did you fight properly?”

“If I did well, will you praise me?”

Praise? I’d give you anything you want!

I nodded vigorously. Edan lightly ruffled my messy hair—then suddenly stopped.

“What’s this?”

“What?”

“This.”

Edan gently brushed his thumb across the corner of my eye.

It was the dried trace of tears I’d instinctively shed under the pressure of Killian’s ability.

Edan’s usually gentle voice lowered slightly.

“You cried?”

Of course I cried. I was so heartbroken—my body covered in wounds, and even when I told the truth, no one believed me easily.

But I didn’t want to act pitiful in front of someone who’d suffered even more than I had.

“A little. But I’m fine now.”

I smiled brightly. But Edan’s gaze sharpened.

“Latieana.”

“Hmm?”

“Stay still.”

Edan slowly lowered his eyes.

He examined me carefully, meticulously scanning every detail—as if refusing to overlook even the smallest issue. His crimson eyes paused once at my reddened neck, then again at my wrist.

His lips pressed into a firm line as he stared silently at my wrist. Then he stepped closer to me.

The crumpled sleeve, barely revealing my wrist, slowly slid upward—exposing the bruised skin beneath.

“You call this ‘fine’?”

I quickly tugged my sleeve back down.

“That was Ivy’s doing… but really, I’m okay! You already beat her up enough for me.”

Enough to shatter her bones! Even if Edan didn’t know it was me who got hurt, I think it’s more than enough.

“Are you kidding me? If I’d known, I wouldn’t have let her pass out so easily. I’d have carved her flesh into pieces while she was still conscious…”

His madman streak slipped out—something I’d momentarily forgotten. Seeing my widened eyes, Edan clicked his tongue as if realizing his mistake, and cut himself off.

“Anyway.”

Still staring at my arm, he muttered lowly, brows furrowed—then slowly lifted his gaze again.

His blazing red eyes landed once more on my neck.

He raised his hand and gently swept my hair from my cheek back behind my ear.

With my hair fully pulled back, the marks left by Killian’s choking grip became clearly visible. Edan’s expression darkened, his eyes turning even colder than before.

“…So it was my brother.”

He hadn’t needed me to say a word—he’d already guessed it was Killian.

I couldn’t check in a mirror, but if the marks were visible enough to leave handprints, they certainly weren’t from Ivy.

Edan, silently tracing the injury, clenched his jaw tightly.

At that moment, Killian—who had been briefly conferring with his knights to assess the situation—returned toward us.

Edan slowly turned his head to face Killian.

“Since when did you become so ill-mannered?”

Standing close, Killian was just slightly taller than Edan.

Side by side, they bore a subtle resemblance—but their auras were unmistakably different.

Killian, impeccably dressed and standing tall with broad shoulders, stared directly at my neck—where Edan’s hand still rested—and spoke.

“Well then.”

Not a denial—but not an apology, either. His tone carried zero remorse.

Killian smirked faintly, then continued.

“Well, I’ll call it an accident. But planting that rat was clearly insufficient—you even dared to set foot inside the temple. You’ll be held accountable for that. And for cleverly hiding the real one, too.”

It was true Ivy had tormented me—but on the other hand, her presence in the temple had allowed me to stay by Edan’s side. Now that she was gone…

‘I knew this would happen.’

That’s exactly why I didn’t want to reveal Ivy’s true identity until I found a solution that didn’t involve going to the temple. My head throbbed.

“Latieana Merigold—so this is why Ivy kept searching for you all along.”

“…”

“I did think it strange—claiming you were precious family, yet dragging you to a temple where Saintess candidates might die. But I never imagined such a secret was hidden beneath it.”

Killian stared at me sharply—as if ready to snatch me away at any moment.

Edan was beside me, so that wouldn’t happen—but the suffocating sensation of being caught in Killian’s ability moments ago returned, sending chills across my skin.

The mastermind who banned me from the temple and pushed Edan into suffering. Instinctively, I felt he was fundamentally different from Hillstain and Dante, who had so easily sided with me.

Trying to avoid his gaze, I turned my head—just as a large shadow fell over me, blocking his view.

“Latieana, come behind me.”

It was Edan. He stepped in front of me, shielding me from Killian. His broad, towering back looked like an impenetrable shield—the strongest defense imaginable.

In that moment of relief, I couldn’t help but let a faint smile escape.

“Guhh! Gk!”

“Kuhh!”

Suddenly, pained groans erupted around us—and a dozen or so of Killian’s nearby knights collapsed all at once. Killian scanned the area, assessing the situation, then shot a sharp glare at Edan.

“You…”

“Oh? Were these your precious subordinates? The ones you always keep close at hand?”

Killian’s face twisted in fury.

“Edan Dietrich!”

“Yes.”

Edan replied calmly, hands casually tucked into his pockets, posture slightly slouched.

“Don’t be too angry. It was an accident, after all. I couldn’t very well strangle my own brother, could I?”