There was a sound from beside her. She could tell from the peaceful breathing that the man was still asleep.
Whew
Tilda shut her eyes tightly as if steeling herself. She took a deep breath and slowly opened her eyes to look at the man who had ravished her like a beast all night.
It was indeed a familiar face.
Long lashes for a man, a sharp nose, a jawline that was both delicate and angular. And black hair, slightly damp and clinging to his forehead…
Wait… black hair?
Black… hair?
Tilda blinked in confusion, her eyes wide as she realized. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand to stop the scream trying to escape.
This can’t be…!
The moment she confirmed that the man had black hair, she moved like a wild animal, leaping out of bed and getting into a defensive position.
The man slowly opened his eyes at the sound of movement. His crimson eyes glimmered as they caught the sunlight.
Even though Tilda’s face had gone pale, and her expression showed pure shock, the man, still drowsy, leisurely blinked his eyes, then slowly sat up.
With the blanket barely covering his lower half, he ran a hand through his tousled hair.
“I was expecting at least a little acknowledgment this morning, even if you don’t feel like saying something sweet,” he said, reaching for the robe on the nightstand.
“…Who are you?”
The man was undoubtedly who Tilda had thought he was: Kales Moin.
One of the high priests, a man who had always carried a lustful gaze.
Last night, she’d already had a gut feeling it was him, and she wasn’t too concerned about him losing his divine powers over such an act.
She figured he had probably slept with others long ago and had already lost his divine powers, covering it up with his incredible sword skills. That’s how he managed to hide it and keep enjoying countless nights of fun with women.
Yes, that’s what she had thought…
But now, the man before her wasn’t the Kales Moin she knew. He didn’t have silver hair and dark green eyes.
Black hair and red eyes.
That was definitely the mark of ‘that’ race.
“You’re going to get cold if you keep standing there like that,” Kales said, watching her in amusement.
Tilda knew her appearance was a mess.
When she’d gotten up, she had a nightgown loosely draped over her, but in her rush to stand, the front had opened slightly, exposing some of her chest. The cold air hitting her skin made her shiver.
But fixing her disheveled state wasn’t her priority right now. She doesn’t want to lower her guard.
“Answer me! Are you really the Kales Moin I knew?”
“Is it my hair and eye color making you doubt me?”
Kales lazily lifted a hand to brush back some of the hair covering his forehead.
He acted like it was no big deal, but Tilda couldn’t stay calm.
His appearance was unmistakably that of the ‘Turin race’.
A people abandoned by the Empire’s sole deity, the goddess Valinea—an absolute evil race, infamous for their cunning abilities to lure people into desire and despair. They were considered heretics.
The fact that Kales Moin had the appearance of a ‘Turin’ meant something serious.
One of the three high priests of the Empire being a Turin would mean that the sacred domain wasn’t safe.
Not only that, but from the moment he had brought her here and touched her, there had likely been some hidden motive.
Had he planned to seduce her and use her to attack her grandfather, the Pope?
As Tilda’s mind raced, Kales stood up and started walking toward her.
“…Don’t come any closer.”
Backing away, Tilda grabbed a candlestick from a nearby shelf and held it out like a weapon.
“Your defense isn’t bad,” Kales said in amusement.
Without hesitating, Tilda swung the candlestick at him as he approached.
“…So, you saved me with some ulterior motive after all,” she spat.
But, in a heartbeat, he effortlessly caught her wrist and disarmed her.
“Ugh!”
“You’re like a cornered cat, aren’t you?” Kales remarked, his tone playful. He took the candlestick and calmly placed it back on the shelf.
Then, in one smooth motion, he scooped Tilda up and threw her back onto the bed.
“What are you doing?!”
“Calming down an angry cat,” Kales said, pinning her wrists down as he loomed over her.
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
Yesterday, the whole thing was just embarrassing, but now she was genuinely scared. Not for herself, but for her grandfather and the temple—Her mind was consumed with anxiety—what if her grandfather and the holy temple suffered because of her?
As she struggled like a wild animal trapped in a cage, Kales’ gaze darkened.
“Stop struggling and relax,” he said, his voice was deep and low, almost unfamiliar.
“…”
“You might hurt yourself,” he added.
The sound of his voice, so steady and different from what she had heard before, made Tilda hesitate for a moment.
At the same time, she remembered the way he had comforted her last night when she had been overwhelmed by pleasure.
‘…Right.’
At this point, fighting him was pointless. She couldn’t win. After what happened last night, he must have already imprinted his power onto her.
If that was the case, the best thing to do now was to figure out his goal and negotiate with him.
Normally, she would have come to this conclusion quickly, but the shock of his black hair had clouded her thinking.
When Tilda finally stopped struggling and relaxed, Kales released her wrists. Her wrists were throbbed with his grip, leaving them red and sore.
Kales bent down and lightly ran his tongue over her red skin.
“If you don’t fix that robe by the time I count to three, I might just lose control again,” he warned, standing up from the bed.
What a creep.
Tilda frowned as she hurriedly adjusted her gown and tightly tied the belt around her waist.
“Now answer me. Are you really one of the Turin?”
Kales stretched his long arms, arching his back as he let out a yawn.
“Yes.”
“Then why are you in the sacred temple?”
“Because I’m a high priest.”
“There’s no way a Turin could become a high priest.”
The process of becoming a high priest was tiring and difficult.
On top of ten years of difficult training at the seminary, only one in ten priests could survive the trials. After that, they had to pass the divine power tests before they could be considered for the position of high priest.
It was impossible for someone from the ‘Turin race’ to endure that. They didn’t have divine power.
“So, what are you saying? That I killed someone and took their place?”
“If that’s not it, how did a Turin pass the divine tests and complete the priest training?” she demanded.
“I have no divine power, but I possess a different kind of strength,” Kalus said casually.
Tilda’s brows furrowed.
“The unique power of the Turin race?”
“That’s right. It’s not some weak, fragile power like divine strength, but something overwhelming. It’s the same power that saved your life last night.”
As expected, the power that had pushed out the poison and flooded her body last night was the power of the Turin. But with that kind of immense power, he clearly wasn’t just an ordinary Turin.
“…Don’t tell me you’re the ‘Patriarch’?”
“My people call me that.”
Tilda had to force herself to stand firm as her body threatened to collapse.
The title of “Patriarch” meant he was the leader of the entire Turin race. For someone like Tilda, who had lived her whole life as a devout follower of the goddess Valinea, knowing that the corrupt power of the Turin had entered her body was almost unbearable.
Not only had she spent a night of pleasure with the Patriarch, but she had survived because of his power. How could she ever return to the embrace of the goddess Valinea, now that her life had been saved by the power of a demon?
Instead of feeling grateful for saving her life, she started to feel more and more resentment towards the demon who had corrupted her.
“Your expression is worse than I expected.”
“…Why did you save me?”
For the first time, Kalus didn’t immediately answer.
“Because I didn’t want you to die.”
“To make me a puppet for the Turin?”
Kalus let out a soft chuckle.
“A puppet? While the idea of having a saintess in my hand is appealing, I prefer a feisty cat like you.”
“If you’re not going to answer properly, then I’ll stop talking.”
Tilda’s patience was wearing thin. She was growing increasingly frustrated. While she felt anxious about understanding her current situation, this cunning man kept playing with his words.
Sensing her frustration, Kalus’s smile faded.
“I meant what I said. I didn’t want you to die.”
“That doesn’t explain enough.”
Kalus frowned slightly, stroking his chin.
“Then let’s just say I need you.”
“Why would the Turin need someone like me?”
Kalus leaned forward, finally lifting his body from the back of his chair. His robe slid down, revealing his firm, muscular chest.
“Tilda Valinea. Why do you think I would go through the trouble of pretending to be a high priest, with ridiculous silver hair and priestly robes?”
“To bring down the temple, of course.”
Kalus let out a short laugh.
“If that was my goal, I would have already sliced your grandfather’s throat and chewed it up long ago.”
His blunt words made Tilda gasp involuntarily. The power she had felt from him last night had been overwhelming. The ability to bring a person back from the brink of death and restore lost sight was something she had never heard of before. His power was far surpassed any divine strength in the empire.
There was no doubt that his words weren’t just empty boasts.
“I became a high priest to meet the goddess Valinea.”
Tilda’s face crumbled at the unexpected answer.
“…To meet the goddess?”
“I wanted to ask her a question.”
Kalus, now resting his chin on his hand, gazed out the window, his eyes dark and distant.
“I wanted to ask her why she hates our race so much. Why, after giving us power beyond humans, did she curse us at the same time?”
Tilda was baffled.
The questions Kalus was curious about were so basic that even the youngest child in the empire could answer them.
The Turin had been using their powers for centuries to take lives, enjoy themselves, and spread chaos in the world. People had been scared of them, so the temple carried out mass purges. But in the end, the Turin weren’t wiped out. Instead, they went into hiding, changing their hair and eye colors, living in disguise among humans.
She had never heard that the Turin was cursed by the goddess, but if they were, surely it was punishment for their evil deeds.
At that moment, Kalus asked her a question.
“Do you, Saintess, know about the curse that’s been affecting the Turin?”
