“Kagemori, huh…” Albrecht rubbed his chin. The name left a taste of iron in his mouth, sharp as blood, and for an instant he could almost hear the whisper of steel crossing steel. His shoulders tightened, but beneath the tension a strange warmth flickered, almost like homesickness.
“Well, how about it, Albrecht? The documents we have on them are really limited,” Halwen pressed.
“Hmmm…” Albrecht leaned closer, eyes narrowing as he studied Vierna’s streaked hair and serpent mark. He brought his face close enough for her to feel his breath.
Albrecht’s face was smooth, his golden hair framing a beauty that eclipsed most men and even women she knew. His skin caught the light like porcelain—cold yet flawless, the kind that looked untouched by time or fatigue. The loose strands of his blond hair fell carelessly across his forehead. Every gesture, every glance, carried intention. His eyes, pale and sharp, seemed to weigh the world itself and find it wanting.
There was something unnerving about how handsome he was, a perfection too precise to feel human. With him so close, something stirred unbidden in her chest—not attraction, but a quiet awe mixed with the instinct to look away.
“What…?” Vierna flinched, her cheeks flushing red with embarrassment.
“Well,” Albrecht murmured, lips quirking, “the pattern and hair really do amplify your cuteness, Vierna.”
Vierna’s face turned completely red, and she quickly looked away from him. Her heart beat faster at the compliment. It wasn’t the first time Albrecht had teased her like this, but with his face so close, it was far more embarrassing than usual.
“Stop flirting with her, you damn failed poet,” Lina mocked from her seat, while Albrecht only laughed.
“Herr Albrecht, please take this seriously.” Halwen’s voice snapped like a whip. “You can flirt anywhere you want but not here.”
“Haha, I apologize, Herr Halwen. But you can’t deny — an experimental subject has a certain ‘spice’ you won’t find anywhere else.”
“Creep…” Lina muttered under her breath, though Vierna couldn’t help laughing a little at the remark.
“And why are you here again Miss Knight?”
“The Arkmarschall let her knew everything there is about Vierna, saying that her cooperation will be needed in the future.” Halwen said as Lina stick out her tounge to Albrecht.
“Hark! A cute emotional support from the Arkmarschall himself!” Albrecht declared, placing one hand dramatically over his chest and the other raised toward the ceiling. “Truly, Herr Leopold’s foresight knows no bounds—ten steps ahead as always, haha!”
Halwen pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath about kids these days, while Lina let out a long sigh, her expression caught somewhere between exasperation and secondhand embarrassment. Vierna, however, only smiled faintly at Albrecht’s antics, finding a strange comfort in how predictably over-the-top he could be even in a discussion like this.
Then, catching himself, he exhaled and straightened his posture, his tone settling into something steadier. “Anyway… she did have a marking, and her hair and mark matched the Kagemori I once met. But the only way to be certain is to observe her spirit directly.”
He paused, his expression tightening as his voice lowered. “Still… her aura. You saw it too, didn’t you? It wasn’t like a normal mage’s. if anything it was like the Kagemori I saw back then”
Halwen continued to observe Vierna while said nothing.
Lina looked at both Halwen and Albrecht. “What are you guys talking about?”
“As you become more proficient with magic,” Halwen began, “you start to see something—an aura or the mana that others give off. It usually lingers around the body, like steam rising from warm water, if you want to put it plainly.”
“And yet,” Albrecht continued, “Vierna’s body doesn’t emit that steam. Her aura stands beside her, as if separate from her body.”
“Despite that similarity, I don’t think the Arkmarschall will take it as definite proof. We’re talking about a phenomenon we once thought impossible to replicate, after all.”
Albrecht looked toward Halwen. “Then peering into her directly is the only way. Don’t you have something for that?”
“Well, we could run the projection test, but it’s physically demanding. And Vierna just endured one hell of a flashback. I think we should—”
“Herr Halwen,” Vierna cut him off. “I can do it. Don’t worry.”
“Your resolve is commendable, Vierna, but we can’t risk that right now. Besides, I already proposed it to the Arkmarschall, and he didn’t approve it back then.”
The fact that the Arkmarschall hadn’t approved the test struck Vierna. Was he being considerate of her condition, not wanting to push her too far? Or was it something else entirely? She wasn’t sure.
“Hmmm. There is another method, but it’s… a bit personal.” Albrecht’s tone softened. He adjusted his collar as he spoke. “Vierna. Look at me. Find my deepest secret. I allow you to.”
She didn’t exactly understand what he meant, but as she focused on his light blue eyes.
Halwen and Lina exchanged glances. Neither of them knew what was happening, but curiosity kept them rooted in place, watching to see where this strange event would lead.
At first, nothing happened. It felt almost silly, like a staring contest between a boy and a girl. But then, as Vierna kept her gaze on him, something shifted—subtle at first, like a thread being pulled loose from a tapestry.
Then, the world around her dimmed. One by one, the edges of the room dissolved until all that remained was darkness. It felt as though she had fallen into a tunnel, pulled deeper and deeper by some unseen current.
Then, at the end of it, a light appeared. She reached for it, and suddenly the darkness broke apart.
A vast, open sky spread above her—a soft, endless blue—and beneath her stretched a calm ocean that glimmered like liquid glass. She fell into it without fear. The water enveloped her, cool and gentle, yet she could still breathe. In fact, it was the clearest, purest breath she had ever taken.
Something stirred within the depths, calling her forward. Guided by instinct, Vierna swam toward it—toward the heart of Albrecht’s core.
As she dove, the clear water dimmed into abyssal black, lightless and vast. Fear rose within her, urging her to flee back to the surface — but at the bottom, something glowed faintly, captivating her. Guided by her instinct, she continued her descent until at last she reached the light.
And when she touched it, she was pulled into a scene.
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As the light faded, Vierna found herself standing inside a room.
It was vast, its marble-carved walls echoing cold grandeur. But the elegance was ruined — blood splattered across the stone, furniture lay in ruins as though a beast had torn through it in a frenzy.
She turned, and beside her stood Herr Albrecht. But this was not the man she knew — it was a younger Albrecht, shoulders heaving, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. In front of him was a woman she never saw and behind them was something that caught Vierna’s attention.
There were two figures behind the girl, a man and a woman.
The man’s chest had been hacked wide open, ribs pried apart like a butcher’s rack. His lungs bulged with every rasp, wet and uneven, dragging out breaths that should have ended long ago. Each exhale bubbled with blood, spraying the stone beneath him in a slow, crimson rain. His eyes rolled in their sockets, glazed yet still aware, trapped in a body that refused to die.
The woman beside him was worse. Her flesh looked stolen from different corpses, stitched and jammed together with no regard for symmetry. Patches of skin bore clashing colors, one arm pale as marble, the other blackened with rot. Her face was a shattered mosaic, lips trembling as if they had been torn from someone else’s mouth and forced to fit. Muscle fibers twitched where seams failed, making her whole form quiver like a puppet of agony. Veins squirmed beneath her skin, searching for unity that would never come.
They weren’t alive, not exactly — but they weren’t granted death either. They were condemned to linger, screaming silently with every breath, grotesque icons of pain nailed up for love’s perverse altar.
“Albie… please stop it.”
“You are sick!” the younger Albrecht shouted, “WHY DID YOU DO THAT!?”
“Albie… they stood in the way of our love. And I love you so much, I just can’t contain it,” she breathed, lips gleaming wet, each word dripping with devotion that felt more like hunger than affection.
Vierna turned to the woman who spoke—and the sight froze her breath.
Golden hair cascaded in flawless waves, framing a face sculpted with divine precision — each line too perfect, as if carved by heaven itself and then stolen by sin. Her skin was pale silk, flawless and luminous, and her lips, soft as rose petals, curved in a smile that seemed to promise both comfort and ruin.
Her form was mature, commanding yet graceful. Slender arms, delicate and pale, moved with the poise of a dancer. Her hips swayed with natural rhythm, each motion radiating confidence and unspoken temptation. Even the lines of her long legs, wrapped in the tattered edges of her holy habit, seemed shaped to draw the eye against one’s will.
Amidst the ruin of the blood-stained chamber, she stood untouched, immaculate — beauty itself defying corruption. Vierna felt her heart stutter. This was no woman of flesh and bone. This was lust incarnate, a living blasphemy clothed in perfection.
Vierna looked back at Albrecht. His whole body trembled. His hand hovered uncertainly at his side before curling into a fist, then loosening again. He cast one quick glance at the woman and turned away just as fast, his jaw tightening as though the sight had struck deeper than anger alone.
“Alecta… please, stop it. This isn’t you.”
“Oh… dear.” Another voice drifted through the room. It did not scream or bark; it was calm, almost casual, like someone introducing himself at a dinner table. “I didn’t interrupt something important, did I?”
Vierna tried to gaze at the figure, but it was blurred. Something blocked her — or perhaps Albrecht’s memory itself refused to recognize the man.
“Autrandan! You bastard, what have you done with her?!”
“I simply gave her what she desired most,” Autrandan replied smoothly. “Don’t you think everyone deserves a chance to possess what they want?”
Albrecht charged, dagger in hand, murderous intent in his eyes. But before he reached his target, something caught him — a fleshy construct, conjured by the woman beside him.
“Let’s take him there,” Alecta’s voice purred, full of sisterly love, both seducing and comforting, as if this horror were the most natural thing in the world.
“Hmmm… he isn’t willing yet,” Autrandan mused. “If we drag him there now, he’ll die instantly.”
“Deranged fuck!” Albrecht shouted. “What are you talking about?”
“Ah forgive us, we are talking about taking to you to paradise of course haha.” Autrandan leaned closer, his blurred face hovering just beyond recognition. “Hmmm…. if we take him by force now, he will never accept the Teaching with his whole heart.”
“Oh dear… that would be bad, wouldn’t it? So what should we do?”
The blurred figure spun toward the woman behind him. His movements were so carefree that, for a moment, Vierna thought this man was simply playing around.
“Well, we should leave him here.”
“Are you an idiot, Autrandan?” Alecta snapped, irritation plain at the thought of leaving behind what she desired most. “At least we could put him somewhere safe until he accepts it, can’t we?”
The blurred man laughed. “Language, young lady. And no, I’m not. Besides, forcefully converting someone isn’t our way. I didn’t force you to believe in us, did I?”
“But leaving him here is a stupid idea. He could do something that might harm our fellow believers.”
“Harm? Haha… we’ve been dodging Reich and Imperium agents for years, and they’ve never managed to catch us. Honestly, it’s getting boring. It’d be interesting if they actually managed to hurt us for once.
Besides, locking the poor guy up until he accepts our faith still counts as forcing him. Think of it like this: if he ‘accepts’ the Teaching only because of us, then he won’t truly be one of us. One must taste the suffering of the world before they can imagine a paradise without it. Leave him now, and one day, he’ll realize he can’t live without you.”
The woman stood there in silence, but Vierna could clearly see the anger beneath her expression—as if the suggestion felt both right and wrong at the same time.
“Come on. You know I’m right. Besides, the sweetest sensation can only be tasted after a bit of waiting. And we’ve got all the time in the world.”
The woman clicked her tongue. “Fine. But are you sure that will happen?”
“Do you doubt your brother’s love for you?”
“…No.”
“Then it will happen. Relax. Haha… no one can say no to the new Pontiff of Luxuria now, can they?”
Alecta’s glare lingered on Autrandan for a moment longer, but his words began to settle in—slowly, deliberately, like poison finding its way through the veins. Her expression softened, the anger ebbing from her face and leaving behind something quieter, almost tender. The logic made sense to her twisted faith; waiting was just another form of indulgence, another proof of devotion.
Her lips curled into a faint smile as she turned her gaze back to Albrecht.
Alecta then looked at Albrecht, “Albie, I am going to go now, please don’t take too long, the night would be naught but cold without you. Hehehe you see, I still remember your line from your first theatrical performance.”
“Alecta… please…”
Vierna could see and hear the resignation, clearly painted in Albrecht’s face. It appears that he wasn’t always strong and this moment is exactly what makes him pursue strength.
“Oh, I’d feel bad leaving with your sister without giving you something,” Autrandan said. “You see, they say I represent greed—but honestly, I don’t see myself as greedy. No truly greedy man would be willing to pay for something that already belongs to him. Haha.”
He drew a coin from his robes and let it catch the light. Vierna saw it clearly—it was no ordinary piece of metal. The coin seemed alive, pulsing faintly as if it breathed.
It was large, as wide as a palm, wrought from shifting gold that never settled. Faces rippled across its surface: kings, beggars, mothers, children. Each appeared for a heartbeat before melting into the next, their mouths open in silent hunger. The metal itself seemed to pulse, as if breathing, and the longer she stared the heavier it felt in her chest, as though it demanded to be swallowed. On the reverse side was a single open hand, palm upward, etched so finely it seemed to move, always reaching, always grasping.
As Albrecht felt the coin being slipped into his clothes, he suddenly fainted, and Vierna was pulled back into reality.
Blinking rapidly, she focused her gaze on him.
“Alb… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” Tears welled in her eyes.
“Hey, it’s okay. What exactly did you see?”
“I saw your sister… and I saw a guy named Autrandan… he give you something like a coin when you met him.”
Albrecht’s face went pale, hands trembling as his eyes flared red, every muscle straining to keep composed.
He conjured a storage rune and pulled something out — the all-too-familiar coin. Lina and Halwen stiffened. Its surface shifted with melting faces, and on the reverse an open hand reached forever upward. Even a glance was enough to feel its weight pressing into the chest, a relic that demanded possession.
“Herr Halwen, you can make me swear a blood pact or cast whatever spell you want. But listen—only three people knew about this coin: me, my sister, and one bastard. There’s no way Vierna met either of the other two and lived. My meeting with the Kagemori back then wasn’t exactly fruitful, but I learned something: they can peer into someone’s past if the conditions are right.”
“I see…” Halwen muttered. “But could we put it under another assumption besides her becoming one? Maybe she has a talent for mind reading?”
“That memory was sealed under spells—placed by the Arkmarschall himself. There’s no way in hell a mind reader, no matter how talented, could break through it.”
Albrecht’s voice sharpened, burning with conviction. “You can tell the Arkmarschall this: Vierna pierced through his layered spell. Unless she’s a Kagemori, there’s no way that could have happened.”
Should Leopold do the test on Vierna anyway?
