* * *
“Why… me?”
“I have something to give you.”
“Couldn’t you have just handed it to me normally…?”
“I couldn’t give it to you in the temple. I had to change locations.”
Kidnapping someone over that?
Ranshel’s head spun from the confusion.
No wonder Danie had seemed off.
Normally, he’d have picked up the package himself—but he’d gone out of his way to ask Ranshel instead.
‘I thought it was just because the worship service was coming up soon…’
After all, he’d need to prepare in advance to assist Frey.
While pondering this, Ranshel suddenly looked up.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in the sanctuary right now?”
“Ah, yes. I’m supposed to be there right now.”
Ranshel blinked, bewildered.
Maybe he’d phrased that wrong?
Frey simply smiled playfully at his confusion.
“You’re not a temple follower, so you probably don’t know. High-ranking clergy in the Grand Temple always wear veils during service. As the Saintess, I also cover my face with one.”
“…No way.”
“Danie and I have similar builds. Height can be adjusted with shoes.”
Ranshel’s eyes widened as he gave Frey, seated beside him, a closer look.
Just as he and Zavad had grown, so had Frey.
He had always been tall for someone of his age and gender.
If his face was veiled and his height masked with shoes, there’d be no reason for anyone to suspect a thing.
Of course—no one would ever imagine a fake Saintess was standing in the sanctuary.
“You’re… not exactly an ordinary kind of Saintess, are you?”
Had he always been like this?
Ranshel found himself mentally comparing the in-game Frey to the one before him now.
The Frey he knew had always embodied the ideal image of a “Saintess.”
Gentle, kind, embracing all with love—a noble clergy of the Grand Temple.
The holy protector of the empire against demonic threats.
Wasn’t that who Frey Vershel, the game’s heroine, was supposed to be?
Sure, there had been hints of mischief in the original, but not to the extent of sending a fake to a sacred ceremony.
When did he become like this?
What changed between the game and now?
As Ranshel wrestled with the questions, a soft laugh reached his ears.
“You’re the one who’s not ordinary, Ranshel.”
“…Me?”
He blinked slowly.
Frey lightly covered his lips with his fingers and said in a bright voice,
“Yes. With such a sweet, boyish face… you do such frightening things, don’t you?”
“…I do?”
His gentle green eyes blinked even slower now.
Something about this conversation felt off.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, an alarm bell was going off.
“That’s what Danie told me, you know? That you’re not someone to be judged by appearances.”
As Frey tilted his head, his shimmering golden hair shifted gracefully.
“He said you were a very skilled… assassin.”
“….”
Cold sweat trickled down Ranshel’s back.
It felt as if the blood had drained from his entire body.
“No need to be so tense. Relax. I have no intention of hurting you.”
Ranshel clenched his fingertips.
His heart pounded against his ribs like a drum.
The affectionate gaze and gentle tone he once knew now felt completely foreign.
He never imagined Danie would reveal his identity to Frey.
Danie was an assassin from the same Nameless organization as him.
Their identities were secrets meant to protect their own survival.
Revealing them could be fatal.
Struggling to steady his trembling voice, Ranshel asked,
“…You know about Danie, too?”
“Of course.”
Frey’s eyes softened with a hint of sorrow.
“Danie came to House Vershel to kill me, after all.”
Spoken as if reciting a line from a quiet play, Frey smoothed the curled edge of his dress and neatly folded his hands in his lap.
As if this were all a part of normal, everyday conversation.
In contrast, Ranshel sat frozen like a statue, unable to process what he was hearing.
From Frey’s point of view, this was supposed to be a game.
As far as Ranshel knew, back when he played it, Frey had never been in danger of assassination.
He was merely a girl cursed by demons and pitied by her family.
Which is why Ranshel had assumed Danie’s target was someone else within House Vershel—someone Danie was trying to get close to Frey in order to reach.
But if Frey really was the target… then something didn’t add up.
Nameless prioritizes the Lord’s orders above all else.
The doctrine engraved within his body does not permit disobedience.
Isn’t that the whole reason why they buy young children and train them so thoroughly?
Had Cha Eunseong not possessed Ranshel’s body, he too would have lived solely for the assassination of Zavad.
So then, why had Danie decided not to carry out the order to assassinate Frey?
What reason could have been strong enough to override obedience carved into his very bones?
“You look confused.”
“……”
“If you have questions, you may ask.”
Frey spoke in a gentle tone.
Ranshel bit his lip and looked directly into those deep blue eyes.
He wouldn’t find the answer by brooding alone.
Since Frey already knew his true identity, Ranshel needed to gather as much information as he could.
“Then, why… did Danie not…?”
“You mean, why didn’t he kill me?”
“…What exactly happened?”
Frey let out a soft laugh.
“No need to overthink it. Danie didn’t exactly disobey an order.”
“…What do you mean by that?”
“Danie was ordered to assassinate the only daughter of House Vershel.”
Ranshel frowned.
“…You’re saying the Saintess isn’t the daughter of Count Vershel?”
Frey’s lips curved into a graceful smile.
“That’s right.”
His simple answer only made Ranshel’s thoughts more tangled.
Ranshel ruffled his hair in frustration.
The more they spoke, the deeper the mysteries became, and the more questions piled up.
‘Does this mean this Frey isn’t the heroine from the game I knew?’
But the radiant blonde hair and blue eyes in front of him were unmistakably familiar.
Could someone who looked exactly the same truly be a completely different person?
Besides, he was using the name Vershel…
“Ranshel, look at me.”
Just then, a warm fingertip gently lifted Ranshel’s chin.
Frey, holding his gaze in place, continued.
“Don’t misunderstand. I’m not saying I belong to another noble house.”
“…Then what—?”
“There’s a reason Danie was sent to me.”
Frey kept one hand under Ranshel’s chin, placing the other over his own chest.
“You know what state Danie’s body is in, right?”
“…Yes.”
Wasn’t it said that he’d been sold after being castrated as a child?
That wasn’t the kind of story one could easily forget.
“My mother… Danie’s employer, specifically requested it from the assassin’s guild.”
She asked for someone defective, someone incapable of functioning normally.
“It was her belief that evil must be vanquished by evil.”
Frey clenched the hand over his chest.
The lace on the front of his dress crumpled under his fingers.
“And so, the child born through the use of your body—this ‘mistaken child’—was to be returned to the arms of God.”
His tone remained calm as he continued.
The Countess had been pregnant with twins—one girl, one boy.
The girl was stillborn; only the boy survived.
Before she could even grieve, the Countess lost consciousness—and in a dream, she heard the voice of God.
The birth of a saint—one chosen to carry a sacred soul—had come to pass.
At the time, the Countess didn’t fully grasp what it meant.
But soon after, a divine guide visited the estate and shared with her the secret of the Great Temple.
* * *
