The previously lively Sacred Hall fell silent at Ibi’s appearance.

The six purifiers who were already there merely stared coldly at the newly arrived purifier.

It was blatant rejection, but Ibi stepped into the Sacred Hall without minding.

Then Rio Tuha, a purifier with luscious brown hair, broke the silence and approached Ibi.

“You’re late, Miss Ariate. I hope you didn’t intentionally come this close to the deadline?”

Rio asked in an overbearing voice.

But instead of answering, Ibi just smiled awkwardly.

Angered by this lukewarm response, Rio pressed on.

“Don’t you think you owe us an explanation? Do you have any idea how much the Tower’s reputation has fallen because of your behavior?”

“…I’m sorry for being late, Miss Tuha. We don’t have time now, so let’s continue this conversation later.”

Ibi maintained a calm smile despite Rio’s fierce questioning.

Leaving those words behind, Ibi hurriedly headed to her place, and Rio had no choice but to return to hers as well.

But still unsatisfied, Rio glared at Ibi’s back for a long time from her seat.

At that moment, Ibi Ariate, the unfortunate girl cursed to answer all questions truthfully, was secretly wearing a smirk of satisfaction.

In truth, Ibi had barely understood what Rio had just said. This was because perfectly fitting earplugs were blocking her ears.

Yesterday, when Dies asked about her plan for the purification ceremony, Ibi confidently told him not to worry.

Then she showed the puzzled butler what she had been diligently carving for days.

―What is this?

―It’s made of cork, and it’s for use as earplugs.

―This cunning little…

Though there was a hint of disparagement, Ibi gladly basked in Dies’ amazement.

During the days Dies was away, Ibi had thought hard. About how to survive in the harsh Tienda with this curse.

The curse placed on Ibi only manifests through questions, so if she doesn’t receive questions, there won’t be any problems.

But through her meeting with Sion Laurel, she confirmed that it’s impossible to predict and block all of the other person’s questions.

So Ibi came up with a simpler method.

To not listen to what others say at all, and to roughly guess what they’re saying by their expressions and lip movements.

Someone who knows might laugh at her for using such a shallow trick, but what does it matter?

From the beginning, Ibi didn’t deny it. That it was always this cunning that saved her in moments of crisis.

‘I just need to quickly finish the purification ceremony and run away.’

As if responding to Ibi’s determination, the bell signaling noon rang out.

At that sound, the purifiers formed their ranks.

At that moment, Ibi stood at the very front.

She could feel the gazes of her colleagues piercing her back, but Ibi welcomed it pleasantly.

This check and jealousy was proof that Ibi Ariate was still the most likely candidate for Saint.

.

.

.

Tienda has a nickname: ‘God’s Basin’.

This is because a huge lake occupies most of Tienda’s area, making it look like a water bowl when viewed from above.

Moreover, this lake was the only water source for Tiendabis.

Therefore, all life in Tiendabis had to depend on this lake, and ‘God’s Basin’ was a nickname that contained such reverence and gratitude.

“It seems like it’s about to start now. I’m looking forward to today as well.”

Said a man dressed in luxurious clothing on the terrace of the Manyana Tower, where the lake was visible at a glance.

His name was Cassel Montra. He was the master of the Montra Marquis family, a great noble house.

The elderly lady in uniform sitting next to him, Duchess Bayen, nodded arrogantly in agreement.

“Compared to the purification ceremonies of the past, the recent ones are certainly worth watching. Ah, this must be the Count’s first time seeing this.”

Duchess Bayen said this while looking at the blonde young man sitting next to her.

He was Sion Laurel, who had come to participate in the purification ceremony along with Duke Laurel.

Despite the elderly duchess attempting to speak to him in a friendly manner, Sion Laurel pretended not to hear her words.

A vein popped on Duchess Bayen’s forehead at this arrogance.

Duchess Bayen, now seventy years old, was also a great noble and before retirement, she had been a general commanding tens of thousands.

For someone like her to initiate conversation, yet this blonde Laurel has been acting like an emperor, ignoring everyone since earlier.

Angered by this sight, Duchess Bayen’s face contorted as she lamented.

“It seems Ibi Ariate wasn’t entirely wrong!”

But Sion still didn’t even glance at Duchess Bayen.

Instead, Duke Laurel sitting next to him sharply interjected.

“What do you mean by that?”

When the young duke spoke sternly, the elderly duchess sneered again.

“I heard it by chance. During the last banquet, Ibi Ariate lectured the Count, didn’t she?”

“Who dares to lecture a Laurel.”

Duke Laurel reprimanded Duchess Bayen in a stern voice. At this, Duchess Bayen’s jaw tightened.

As the duke opened his mouth again at this blatant displeasure, Marquis Montra, who had been watching, intervened with a smiling face.

“Oh my. Please mind your manners, there are many eyes watching.”

The marquis gestured towards the other terraces installed on the tower’s outer wall.

There too, nobles of Tienda were gathered in crowds. And among them were some secretly glancing at this special seat occupied by the great nobles.

At Marquis Montra’s mediation, Duke Laurel and Duchess Bayen reluctantly turned their heads away.

And Sion was swallowing his disgust alone, ignoring all of this.

Laurel, Bayen, Montra. All called noble great aristocrats, but in truth, their temperaments were no different from the riffraff in a cheap tavern.

Sion felt sick just being in the same place as these people.

Nevertheless, the reason he stuck to this stifling seat was only one.

Ibi Ariate, his long-standing debt.

“Ah, it seems like it’s finally starting.”

At that moment, the quick-witted Marquis Montra pointed towards the lake, easing the atmosphere.

True to his words, the purifiers were coming out onto the platform one level below the terrace.

The platform where the purification ceremony was held was suspended right above the lake. So the lake’s waves splashed up onto the platform, which might be why all the purifiers were barefoot.

“I can see her there, our Ibi.”

Marquis Montra spotted Ibi among the purifiers and smirked. Then he spoke to Sion, pretending to be friendly.

“Ibi Ariate’s true worth can only be seen during the purification ceremony. When you see it, Count, your heart will probably soften too.”

It was obvious he was speaking vaguely on purpose to attract attention. But Sion didn’t fall for that rhythm and maintained his silence.

As the purifiers took their positions on the platform, boys holding cups appeared around them. They scooped water from the lake with the cups and put it into baskets attached to each terrace, then pulled on ropes.

Like a well bucket, the baskets were pulled up, delivering cups of lake water to the nobles seated on the terraces.

Cups also came up to the seats where the great nobles sat, and Marquis Montra took them out and handed one to Duke Laurel.

The duke, still in a bad mood, reluctantly dipped his fingertip into the murky water in the cup and licked it.

Then Duchess Bayen and Marquis Montra did the same.

“It’s salty.”

“Hmm.”

Duchess Bayen and Marquis Montra lightly frowned after tasting the lake water.

As the marquis said, the water was salty and bitter. That’s because it was seawater drawn from the ocean.

“If this were to flow out as is, Bis would be in chaos.”

“Quite a few people and animals would die.”

“It used to happen occasionally in the past. When that salt water wasn’t properly purified and all the fields in Bis dried up completely.”

Marquis Montra chuckled lightly as he rested his chin on the railing. Then he whispered subtly while looking at Ibi.

“Compared to that, these days are excessively peaceful, thanks to our cute Ibi.”

Just as Sion narrowed his brows at the marquis’s frivolity, a gentle singing voice like a breeze was heard from below.

It was the sound of the purifiers opening their mouths to sing Manyana.

As the purification ceremony began, the nobles stopped their chatter and appreciated the voices of the girls.

However, their song had no lyrics.

That’s because it was a song imitating the cry of Manyana.

Manyana is the name of the dragon sleeping at the bottom of that lake.

Tiendabis, being higher than rain clouds, rarely receives rain. Moreover, due to being suspended in the air, water evaporates quickly, making it a land that wouldn’t last even half a year before drying up if left alone.

Tiendabis, a world that took on flaws as the price for deviating from providence.

For this imperfect world, the god created Manyana in the image of a clear morning.

Manyana, the dragon ruling the morning, the dragon of purification that washes away all impurities.

That beautiful dragon used its god-given ability to turn murky seawater into clear freshwater. And by letting it flow to the land, it quenched the thirst.

The benevolent Manyana ruled Tiendabis in this way, but like the blessings of other dragons, its purification also ceased 300 years ago.

This was because Manyana, having used up all its power in the war against the rebellious dragon Noche, fell into a deep sleep.

Fortunately, just before falling asleep, Manyana promised to lend its power to the pitiful humans.

However, there was one condition for this.

To resonate with the deeply sleeping Manyana by singing with the same voice.

Those who borrow the blessing of purification through song in this way were the purifiers of the Manyana Tower.

The clear voices of the purifiers spread over the calm lake.

And Sion thought that the song was quite monotonous.

‘Is this all?’

They said he would see Ibi Ariate’s true worth, but the scene before him now was not much different from the purification ceremonies he had seen as a boy.

Just noble ladies singing elegantly, not bad as a spectacle but that’s all there was to it.

So Sion looked at Ibi with a dubious feeling and discovered an unexpected sight.

Ibi, standing facing the lake, still had her mouth closed.

Unlike the other purifiers who had already started singing, she was not singing but just staring at the lake.

As if searching for something, or hoping for something.

After a while, when the singing purifiers were catching their breath, Ibi Ariate finally opened her mouth.

At the same time, a voice so clear it was chilling pierced through the songs of the other purifiers.

At that moment, Sion unconsciously held his breath.

A deep and pure timbre, hard to believe it was human, overwhelmed Sion.

And it wasn’t just Sion who was captivated by that voice.

Even the other nobles who had already seen Ibi’s purification ceremony several times were entranced, losing themselves completely.

Even Duke Laurel, who disliked Ibi, was gripping the armrest of his chair tightly, trying to suppress his shudder.

Having captured the nobles with just one verse like that, Ibi spread her song towards the calm and murky lake.

As Ibi sang, the other purifiers also added their timbres following Ibi. But Ibi’s voice didn’t get buried, rather it stood out even more.

The purifiers’ song was for Ibi, and Ibi gathered those sounds to make her own song.

The surface of the lake began to ripple at the sorrowful voice imitating Manyana’s cry.

Sensing the movement, Ibi raised her voice.

As Ibi’s timbre crossed the air, the lake rippled greatly.

Along with this, Ibi Ariate’s black hair was dyed in an enchanting water color.