On average, opening an aura core took two years—and that was for someone with a certain amount of talent. Those with little aptitude often spent their entire lives unable to awaken aura. Even a genius needed a year of training to open their core.

Shaperia was different. In just one day, she had released aura. She had not merely opened her aura core, but drawn its energy outside her body.

Yohan simply could not believe it. In an uncharacteristic stammer, he asked, “C-could you do that again?”

He meant to check one more time.

“Of course.”

Shaperia closed her eyes and tightened her grip. The tip of her sword quivered faintly. At the same time, transparent ripples spread in every direction, stirring Yohan’s hair.

He could no longer deny reality.

'A genius.'

No, even that word fell short. Shaperia possessed talent to rival an ancient god of war. She truly stood in a realm beyond the greatest.

A helpless laugh escaped him.

“You truly are... simply astonishing.”

His admiration was genuine. He could not even feel jealous.

Shaperia scratched her cheek bashfully.

“I’m glad you’re pleased.”

Yohan calmed his racing heart as best he could. Composing his expression, he asked, “But Sir Shaperia, where did you learn how to open your aura core?”

There were specific methods for training aura. No one could open an aura core unaided, without a manual or a teacher. Even Shaperia could not do that.

She looked toward the office window. Outside, in the small training yard, Gaf sat cross-legged, barely clothed.

Looking at him, she said, “The captain of the guard was training his aura. I stayed beside him and rather persistently asked him to teach me how.”

Gaf had lately been hard at work activating his energy channels. Yohan had instructed him to resume aura training, promising to find a replacement for his sealed core.

Yohan murmured, “Gaf, you’ve really done something this time.”

Without Gaf, Shaperia’s talent would have gone to waste. Yohan would have corrupted her into a Demon. Naturally, once she became a Demon, she would no longer be able to use aura.

She looked puzzled.

“I didn’t catch that. What did you say?”

Yohan shook his head.

“Nothing. More importantly, Sir Shaperia, you have my heartfelt congratulations. You’ve proven that your gifts surpass anyone else’s. You lack nothing a knight requires.”

Shaperia’s face lit up. Her voice brimmed with anticipation.

“D-do you mean...?”

Yohan nodded.

“As head of House Miyatro, I hereby accept your knightly oath.”

Shaperia immediately dropped to one knee and offered her sword on both hands.

“I dedicate this sword to the Watcher of the Abyss. Though its blade may dull, my loyalty and my oath shall never rust.”

Yohan rose and took the sword, resting its blade gently on her shoulder.

“From this moment forth, you are my sword and a sentinel of the Abyss. Defend this domain and watch over the Abyss with all your might.”

Shaperia bowed her head.

“I shall obey with body and soul.”

Yohan lifted the sword from her shoulder, returned to his seat, and began writing on a sheet of parchment. He was drawing up her official letter of appointment as a knight.

The moment this letter was sent to the royal capital, Shaperia would become a knight recognized by the kingdom. Her birth was irrelevant. As a member of the Council, Yohan had the authority to confer knighthood. Having received it from him, Shaperia was no longer a commoner. She would hold status equivalent to a baronet’s.

When he finished writing, Yohan spoke.

“Shaperia, I grant you the authority to pass summary judgment on all matters within the domain. Should you discover bandits, heathens, or anything else that threatens it, act first and report afterward.”

The south was currently infested with petty spirits and bandits. Miyatro’s dependent territories had suffered considerable damage at their hands. Shaperia would be more than capable of dealing with that nuisance.

Her voice trembled slightly.

“... As you command.”

It still had not quite sunk in that she was a knight.

Yohan spoke again.

“I’ll assign you troops at once. Sweep through the outlying regions. That will be your first mission.”

He intended to send Shaperia away for a while. Sharing the lord’s castle with her would still be difficult. He had too much to hide.

Shaperia was Yohan’s knight, but she was not Maphel’tan’s servant. The moment she encountered anything connected to Maphel’tan, matters would become extremely awkward. Yohan needed to keep her away from the castle for the time being.

Shaperia looked puzzled.

“If I leave now, what will become of His Highness?”

Shaperia had been necessary to treat Gawain. Now the situation had changed completely. He could not squander someone of her talent as a mere sacrifice.

Yohan said, “I’ve found another solution. Attend to your own duties.”

That was a lie. He would have to start looking for one now.

Shaperia did not question him further. She seemed simply to accept it.

“... Understood. I shall patrol the domain as you command.”

Yohan nodded.

“Root out every evil preying upon this domain. Do not return until you have.”

The Miyatro domain was vast. Shaperia would probably spend a long time making her rounds through its outskirts. That would give him enough time to resolve most of his immediate problems.

Shaperia rose from her kneeling position.

“Shall I leave at once?”

“Find Gaf in about an hour. He’ll supply you with what you need.”

She bowed her head.

“I shall.”

“You may go. I’ll see you again when you leave.”

Shaperia saluted with her sword and left the office.

Hakain spoke from beside Yohan.

“Congratulations, my lord. You’ve acquired quite a monster.”

“Well, yes, but...”

Gawain was the problem. Yohan could not think of a way to deal with him.

Hakain spoke cautiously.

“Gawain—His Highness the Third Prince. Is he really that important?”

Gawain would one day become humanity’s rallying point. Yohan intended to manipulate him from behind the scenes to unite all the continent’s forces. If Gawain fell and became a Demon, that plan would come to nothing. Yohan would have to find another piece for his board.

'... Is there anyone else?'

Someone who possessed power as transcendent as Gawain’s, yet could also spread a benevolent influence. Yohan could think of no one.

He clicked his tongue.

“He is. He’s important, but...”

* * *

In the forbidden library of the lord’s castle, Yohan peeled away the talismans plastered over Gawain’s face, revealing it.

Gawain spoke in a dying voice.

“... Yohan Miyatro. What in the world do you want from me? Tell me. Now.”

Perhaps it was because he had neither eaten nor slept for days, but much of Gawain’s defiance had faded.

Yohan let out a long sigh.

“What I want? If I tell you, can you accept all my demands?”

Murderous intent flickered in Gawain’s eyes. Before long, resignation replaced his hostility.

“Let me at least hear you out. Why are you doing this to me?”

Yohan had imprisoned him without any explanation, but had not killed him either. The frustration was driving Gawain mad.

Yohan said, “You’ll soon become a Demon. That is the truth, without a single lie.”

His gaze was calm and steady. Gawain felt a strange sense of trust. Yohan’s words did not sound like a lie.

“You said something similar before. Why would I turn into a Demon?”

Yohan answered evenly.

“The holy spear Espada, which is imprinted on your soul, has been corrupted into a fell spear. As a side effect, you’re undergoing encroachment. Have you heard the story of Geppetto, the specter of the duchy?”

Long ago, a man named Geppetto had suffered the very same phenomenon Gawain was experiencing now. In the end, he had become an evil spirit without ever being cured.

Geppetto, the specter of the duchy. It was, in fact, a famous tale. Gawain knew it too, of course. His gaze wavered slightly.

“... Espada has been corrupted? Then bring me proof.”

Yohan nodded.

“See for yourself. It’s time.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than his form dispersed. Pitch-black demonic energy swirled where he had vanished. The black mist soon began taking shape.

Gawain’s eyes widened. He cried out as though seized by a fit.

“Y-you!”

A monstrous being stood before his eyes. White Horn. The Thirteenth Apostle of the End.

Maphel’tan slowly spoke.

“It’s been a while, Gawain.”

Gawain began trembling violently. His body glowed white, and holy power seeped through his restraints.

Maphel’tan backed away from him.

'Does he still have strength left?'

If so, he would have to leave. That holy power was far too lethal to a Demon.

He watched for a moment. The radiance began to fade, and Gawain’s convulsions subsided. It seemed his stamina had run dry.

It was only natural. Gawain had not been given time to recover since his battle with Ilea. He was utterly exhausted. He, too, was human.

Gawain stared weakly at Maphel’tan. Only hostility remained in his unfocused eyes.

“... What the hell are you?”

Maphel’tan answered evenly.

“I am the Watcher of the Abyss and the Thirteenth Apostle of the End. It may sound like wordplay, but it is the truth.”

Gawain stared blankly at him. Silence lingered for a while.

Then he suddenly burst into hollow laughter. The strangely empty peals echoed through the forbidden library.

“Ah, ah! So that’s what happened! You really were the one who took my spear! The darkness I saw back then was you!”

Previously, Gawain had tried to retrieve his holy spear, only to pass out with blood pouring from his entire body. The unknown being he had encountered then was Maphel’tan.

Pitch-black darkness began condensing in Maphel’tan’s hand.

“Correct. I corrupted your spear into a fell spear.”

He held an enormous, ominous spear in his grasp.

Gawain laughed for a long time before breaking into coughs. Suppressing his emotions, he spoke.

“... Now the pieces fit. You’ve been deceiving everyone. And I was fool enough to walk straight into the tiger’s den.”

Maphel’tan shrugged.

“And thanks to that, we can now lay all our secrets bare. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

Gawain let out an incredulous laugh.

“Fine. Since it’s come to this, let’s speak openly. White Horn, what exactly do you want?”

The fellow could be more refreshingly direct than expected. Maphel’tan’s lips stretched into a wide smile.

“Become a Demon. Fall, and live as my servant.”