Heliod Vus. Who is he?
At twenty-five, Heliod Vus bore many titles. The Empire’s hero who led the Anti-Demon War to victory, the Swordmaster of the esteemed Seisior Paladins. A war hero celebrated for his exceptional looks and prowess. A figure of fascination.
But before twenty-five, even before he became a holy knight—who was Heliod at fifteen?
‘I will care for you as though you were my own son.’
Helikantium grasped the velvet box, his mind drifting back over a decade.
‘I am of no use. I’ll only be a burden to you, High Priest.’
‘Child, I do not seek usefulness in you.’
‘Then why would you take me with you?’
‘Because it is the right thing to do.’
Abandoned by his parents at birth, Heliod had scraped by in a poor orphanage in the slums, weak and small, only to be taken in by a temple-sponsored orphanage when he caught the High Priest’s eye. Until then, he had been neglected and mistreated, preyed upon for his frailty. Other children dismissed him, and the head of the orphanage was openly dissatisfied with Heliod’s clumsy attempts to help.
When his latent holy power manifested, the High Priest had visited, allowing Heliod to be somewhat presentable. But Helikantium saw through it quickly.
‘Where is the head of this orphanage?’
Traces of prolonged abuse were evident. Though now hidden under the scars of war, Heliod’s back had once been marked with burns and whip scars, a testament to years of torment.
As he had done many times before, the High Priest sought to rescue the suffering child and bring him to the capital’s temple, intending to guide him into priesthood. But Heliod was different from the others.
‘I want to become a knight.’
The High Priest’s integrity, unwavering resolve, and compassion for all living things had left a profound impression on Heliod, turning him into an idol in Heliod’s eyes. Realizing his own powerful holy potential, Heliod wanted to become a knight who could directly protect the High Priest.
‘I wish to be a knight and defend you, High Priest.’
As they say, no parent can truly win against their child. The High Priest had vehemently opposed Heliod’s decision to become a knight, knowing it would mean he’d be sent to war. But in the end, Heliod prevailed. He grew strong under the temple’s care, building his body, training rigorously, and becoming a full knight. Eventually, he went to war, advancing quickly and proving his valor.
At first, the High Priest could hardly believe it. It was enough joy simply to know Heliod returned alive, but with each campaign, he earned honors and even praise from the Emperor. Perhaps this was truly Heliod’s path. ‘The boy made the right choice,’ the High Priest reflected, regretting his resistance and beginning to trust Heliod’s decision.
Yet that trust would not last long. As the war dragged on—two years, then three, then five—the High Priest noticed a change in Heliod’s expression. Or rather, he began to recognize the expression that had become all too familiar. Heliod seemed as if dulled to the world, his senses worn, staring into the eye of a storm, witnessing the whirlwind of pain and turmoil that battered him from all sides.
‘Heliod. Let’s put an end to the war.’
So he told him to stop, that this path would only bring him suffering.
‘Understood.’
And then, after five long years, Heliod stopped returning to the temple. With the Emperor’s permission, he ventured to the farthest reaches of the empire, waging a final campaign that would stretch over years.
Heliod fulfilled the High Priest’s wish and ended the war. He brought it to its close.
‘Hurray! Captain Vus has slain the last demon!’
‘A hero! The Empire’s hero!’
But the High Priest could not rejoice. No matter how many letters he sent, how desperately he called for Heliod, the boy did not return until another five years had passed, and when he did… he was no longer a boy.
Heliod had formed bonds, forged precious friendships—but he had also lost them. He had cherished comrades, yet lost them all. The war had stripped him of everything, leaving him with only a handful of affection left to offer.
From that moment, the High Priest came to cherish Heliod above all others among the many children who depended on him, as only an ailing child truly catches a parent’s eye.
‘Heliod deserves to be happy.’
That was why Lady Arpen, Luisha, was a thorn in his side.
A woman who possessed everything. A woman who lived in a world that could not be more opposite to Heliod’s own. She would never understand him.
With that thought, Helikantium glared at the stack of Luisha’s letters neatly stored in the velvet box.
‘Though they may be entangled now because of this curse… it seems I’ll have to intervene.’
There was no other choice. To Helikantium, nothing was more precious than his son.
❖ ❖ ❖
“Luisha, you’re being quite restless.”
“I know, Mother.”
“Stop fidgeting with your fan before you tear it.”
“Yes, Mother.”
I snapped the fan shut with a loud clap, lost in thought.
This was absurd. How could he not send a single reply? Sure, I know the letters were full of teasing, but they always were! And yet, Heliod had never tired of responding, always pleading, ‘Please, stop with such talk,’ or, ‘I beg you to use more decorous language.’ That was exactly what I wanted to see!
I sighed, reclining back against the seat, only to be met with Mother’s sharp reprimand.
“Luisha. Even if no one is watching, a lady must maintain proper posture.”
“But Mother, we’re in a carriage. It keeps bouncing, making it hard to sit upright.”
“Is that so? Shall we have a new carriage built for you? Something more comfortable?”
Gasping, I shook my head with a pale face.
“No, that’s not necessary! I’ll sit properly.”
The time and expense to commission a new carriage were no small matters… and since the family crest had to be engraved in gold, Father would grumble endlessly about the costs. I couldn’t have that on my conscience. Pouting, I sighed again, deeper this time, which earned me a frown from Mother.
“This is about that letter, isn’t it?”
“Yes…”
“Perhaps he was too busy to read it this morning. Don’t dwell on it too much.”
“But Sir Heliod usually responds quickly.”
Heliod had a knack for handling correspondence swiftly. Even if he was away, he would often reply in less than ten minutes if he was home. Each time, the feeling that I held some priority in his life filled me with joy.
Thinking about that brought a smile to my face, which seemed to make Mother’s expression turn oddly curious.
“Luisha, by any chance…”
“Yes?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
She elegantly raised her feathered fan, covering her mouth as if to hide her expression, just as she often did in public. Tilting my head in confusion, I watched as she proposed an idea.
“If you go to the temple now, Sir Vus should be attending his afternoon prayers.”
“Oh, you’re right. But won’t he be in a private chapel?”
“Most likely. Didn’t you say you went further inside the temple last time?”
I thought about it, but I had never mentioned such a thing. I only told her that I’d spoken with Heliod quietly before leaving. A shiver ran down my spine as I looked at her with startled eyes.
“Mother, how did you…?”
“There are ways to know. In any case, that’s not what’s important right now. You’ve been inside before, so you’ll know the way. The inner chapel is usually closest to the gardens; you should be able to find him there.”
“Wow, Mother, you’re the best! I’ll go!”
I decided to let go of any concerns about my mother’s mysterious knowledge. Father had once mentioned that she knew everything about both high society and the underworld, but I hadn’t thought he was serious. How did she know I had gone all the way to Heliod’s office?
‘Not even Jenny knew that…’
Anyway, if I could see Heliod before the victory parade, that was enough. I could talk to him about the curse and slip in a few embarrassing remarks while I was at it.
With my heart pounding in excitement, I waited for the carriage to arrive at the temple. Before long, the carriage slowed, then stopped, and the door swung open. I gracefully stepped down onto the footstool the coachman had brought and took in the scene around me—nobles and servants bustling about, all preparing for the parade. Mother soon wore a tired expression.
“Oh dear, Countess Lyaia is approaching. Luisha, I’ll slip away in this direction while you head inside the temple.”
“Yes, Mother. I’ll see you in a bit!”
“Yes. If you see Mary on the way, pass along my regards.”
“Yes!”
Countess Lyaia was infamous in social circles for her incessant chatter. She had a particular fondness for my mother, a prominent figure, and had followed her around persistently over the years—much to my mother’s intense irritation.
Dodging the gaze of a young noble who was watching me a bit too intently, I quietly entered the temple and slipped further inside, making my way to the inner sanctum Heliod had once shown me. To my surprise, I spotted him not in the prayer room but just outside the garden, gazing up at a tall, lush tree.
‘Wow… beauty and nature?’
Who needs wine? Just watching this sight made me feel light-headed. Steadying myself with a hand on my forehead, I tiptoed forward, a mischievous smile forming as I decided to play a small trick. I reached out to tap his shoulder—
“Who’s there?”
In a swift, rough motion, Heliod seized my wrist and pulled me forward. I was so startled I couldn’t even scream as I was dragged toward him.
“…Lady Arpen?”
Heliod’s eyes widened as he recognized me, his breath coming in short gasps. My dress and his cloak had tangled together, and with mere inches between us, we stared at each other, both swallowing nervously. I forced an awkward smile and greeted him.
“Uh… good afternoon?”
Heliod blinked in surprise, his pale lashes fluttering before he released me cautiously. I rubbed my wrist, which stung a little, and coughed to cover my embarrassment. Heliod’s expression immediately twisted with guilt.
“My apologies. I didn’t realize it was you, Lady Arpen.”
“Oh, no, it’s my fault—I am the one intruding in a restricted area.”
The temple’s security was notoriously lax. The Empire’s devotion to Seisior was so strong that even during wartime, temples remained untouched. It wasn’t surprising I could slip in this far. Realizing this as well, Heliod let out a deep sigh.
