~CMWDD 14~

Chapter 14

After finishing his recollection, Dimidius clenched his fists tightly. Such a thing could never happen again. If Killen hadn’t brought someone capable of transferring holy power in time, he might have been completely consumed by darkness.

Dimidius didn’t hate his mother Lilith, who had suddenly disappeared, in the same way he hated James—but he also didn’t love or miss her. That was why he didn’t want to become a demon, why he wanted to preserve his humanity and his human body: because he had always lived among humans.

“I know… I need holy power to live as a human.”

Even knowing that, the church members refused to cooperate. They looked down on him, despised him, simply because he was a half-demon.

So if anyone was encouraging him to become a demon, wasn’t it the church itself?

Five years ago, the empress sent someone to kill him at the Duke’s castle because she was an extremely devout believer. Perhaps she considered him a threat to the crown prince. Even now, the empress was secretly waiting for a chance to kill the half-demon Dimidius.

Dimidius thought the whole situation absurd. He sat down in his chair and rested his legs on the high table. Today, it seemed, he was off his game. His sensitivity was already at its peak, and he rarely slept well.

He twitched his legs and muttered to himself:

“Should I just kidnap the lady outright?”

She was one of the few people able to manipulate holy power freely, and she had nothing to do with the church.

Ever since he unleashed demonic power on the train, it wasn’t just the illusionary flower he needed anymore—he also needed someone to transfer holy power to him.

For about five years, holy tools had sufficed, but not anymore.

Dimidius did not want to return to the past.

Not in that monstrous form.

Never.

Odor Cathedral was a church renowned for its beautiful frescoes. The twelve gods who protected the Bonus Empire were painted across every ceiling. In particular, the god responsible for beauty and art was depicted with hair that flowed like vivid, rolling waves. The long hair stretched endlessly, reaching even the stained-glass windows.

There was also the original oak doors with ornate emblems.

The golden altar beneath the central dome.

Priests in white robes walking about.

And standing in the nave was Olentia herself.

Olentia knew that the dream she was having wasn’t ordinary. Her contracted husband hadn’t appeared this time, but she could sense it just from the feeling.

Then it happened.

From a window on the top floor of Odor Cathedral, someone leapt out.

Thud!

Olentia, standing in the nave, froze in shock at the sight of the woman hitting the ground and could do nothing.

Only a dazzling orange shell hairpin tumbled toward Olentia, who had gone stiff in surprise.

“Ahh!”

A dream about someone committing suicide… such an ominous dream…

Even though Olentia knew it was a dream, her entire body was soaked in sweat. She swallowed hard and fiddled with her damp hair, then remembered the orange shell hairpin rolling toward her.

She knew what it was.

“I think the madam said it was a limited edition.”

She had thought it pretty… Could it be that she had wanted it so badly that her subconscious conjured such an extreme dream?

To regain her composure, Olentia threw back the covers and slowly sat in front of the vanity mirror. Her face was probably ghostly pale.

Early dawn, before Bobby had arrived.

Olentia glanced at her reflection and flinched.

“What… what? Why are my wounds gone?”

She lifted her head and checked her neck. Disbelieving, she even took the mirror to the window to examine it in sunlight.

But it remained unchanged. Her neck was perfectly clean, as if the accident had never happened.

“All I did was apply some ointment.”

She hadn’t called any healers, nor used any medical tools.

When I held the lady’s hand, I felt it.

I could sense holy power. She probably doesn’t realize it, but she was certainly born with it. Because I’m a half-demon… I can clearly feel whether someone has holy power or not.

Dimidius’s words suddenly echoed in her mind.

The greatest advantage of holy power was healing. A tremendous ability to protect both oneself and others!

Olentia’s hands trembled as she set the mirror back on the table.

“I… what am I? Some gifted person appearing in Armeniaca after a hundred years?”

In the Bonus Empire, there were only about thirty people with holy power. Excluding the unmatched power of the saint and the pope, the archbishop was the strongest. Beyond those three, the power differences were minor. Most of them were connected to the church.

Holy power had three characteristic categories.

First, the sacred light prized by priests. This was the power to destroy evil spirits. Against demons, only the saint and the pope were examples capable of opposing them.

Second, healing power. Occasionally, non-priests with holy power earned vast sums of money through healing. But this varied greatly—from merely mending small wounds to saving someone on the brink of death.

Lastly, attack power. In the long gallery of the Armeniaca Count’s family, ancestors were depicted creating white spheres, which could be used to strike others.

As with healing, the size of the sphere determined the degree of attack power. Among those with holy power, only a rare few could wield this offensively.

Perhaps holy power’s primary purpose was to save people—a bright, radiant ability.

Many thoughts flashed through Olentia’s mind.

“Haha! This is insane. So I have at least a little holy power.”

Last night, she had seen the waves from the illusionary flower emitting holy power. This morning, she confirmed her self-healing. She could no longer deny it.

Wait… something feels off.

Olentia stood and shouted:

“If it’s there, that’s a good thing!”

Why deny it?

This ability was crucial—proof that she was the true heir of the Armeniaca family, cementing her legitimacy.

But for that reason, she had to be cautious.

Olentia resolved to keep this truth hidden until she was absolutely certain.

It seemed a brief spring rain had fallen in the early hours.

The ground outside the mansion was still soft and damp. Thankfully, the rain had stopped by morning.

Today was an important day: her uncle, Count Odor, would introduce her to Archbishop Werbu.

Olentia dressed modestly and gracefully.

She wore a luxurious violet velvet crinoline dress, revealing nothing, with only a hint of lace at the sleeve ends. Her hair was neatly tied, and she wore red-dyed ankle boots. No extravagant embroidery or ribbons.

This should be fine.

She had to make a good impression on the archbishop, known among the Bonus Empire’s citizens as a respected and frugal man. His true character aside, it was best to match his public demeanor.

Nervously swallowing hard, Olentia received encouragement from Bobby.

“This is perfect, Miss. It’s not much different from your usual attire.”

“Yes, I hope I don’t make any mistakes in front of the archbishop.”

“You’re smart, Miss. You’ll do fine.”

At that moment, a black ebony carriage bearing a crescent moon emblem arrived at the mansion.

Olentia liked both the Armeniaca apricot tree emblem and the Odor family crescent moon emblem. Perhaps it reminded her of walking the moonlit forest path with Dimidius a few days ago.

She greeted her uncle, Count Odor, with a bright smile as he alighted.

“Uncle! You look especially splendid today.”

He had clearly taken care with his appearance: hair slicked back with pomade, a stylish morning coat.

Beaming widely at his niece’s compliment, he escorted her. She naturally took his hand and climbed into the carriage, settling against the smooth leather seat with sparkling eyes.

“Uncle, let’s go quickly. I need to know today.”

“Know what?”

“About Archbishop Werbu. Why is he coming to the Odor territory? Can you tell me?”

“You don’t need to know.”

“Really? What if I say something wrong in front of the archbishop? We should know everything about him to avoid mistakes.”

Olentia wanted to know everything about the archbishop. But Count Odor crossed his arms firmly, refusing to budge.

“Still, your attire is modest and restrained, my niece.”

Olentia pouted. It seemed difficult to hear anything further from her uncle.

How much time passed, she wasn’t sure.

Finally, they arrived at Odor Cathedral.

Escorted by her uncle, Olentia stepped onto the ground and frowned slightly.

“What… what is this…”