Hate me, Miss Witch!

The Sacred Light was extinguished.

Spirits of the Sacred Light, originating from the theocratic kingdom, would always leave behind a "Seed of Sacred Light" in the Sacred Court. Even if their astral spirit bodies were destroyed, they could be resurrected through these seeds.

However, the resurrection process for an Element lifeform was extremely lengthy.

For Histanlia, this meant that for more than half a year, her most powerful 4th Soul Pact could not be used.

But at this moment, Histanlia's heart did not spare even a moment to mourn the extinction of her Spirit of the Sacred Light.

She merely gazed blankly behind her at Enola, and at the Chess Piece of Oaths representing the Winter Flower in the young woman's hand.

The Chess Piece of Oaths could only be possessed by the blood descendants of an oath-sworn family.

Thus, her identity was revealed.

"Are you the child of the Count of Austere Winter, the only daughter Shiayar mentioned?"

She looked at Shiayar, then at the golden-haired young woman in the knight's armor tonlet. "Then why would you do this?"

Histanlia's question echoed the thoughts of many nobles present.

With the exposure of Shiayar's identity and deeds, Enola, who often accompanied him, had also come under the scrutiny of many people and was repeatedly investigated.

Because she frequently undertook missions for the Military Department, Enola's background information wasn't difficult to find. She was a strong, somewhat talented commoner Beastmaster, and also very loyal to Shiayar. This fact was clearly stated in all her records.

Enola had always managed Shiayar's commercial enterprises in the Black Lily District. On the rare occasions Shiayar appeared in the Empire Capital, Enola would simply follow him silently, expressionlessly clearing obstacles for him.

Subordinate, Attendant, maid, knight, lover... these were all speculations outsiders made regarding the relationship between Shiayar and Enola.

Therefore, although evidence indicated this golden-haired young woman also originated from Ceylon, no one had ever doubted her identity.

No matter how much the Winter Flower Family had been marginalized from the center of power, it was, after all, one of the 8 Great Oath-Sworn Families. As survivors of that calamity, the Empire was bound by both sentiment and reason to support them.

Enola merely needed to reveal a hint of her identity to naturally obtain the status, respect, and resources she deserved.

But she never did that.

She was Shiayar's shield and his sword. Like a shadow, she had silently followed him all this way, never complaining.

"Enola Ingritt."

"What, exactly, is your relationship with him?" Histanlia murmured.

She had assumed today was merely an ordinary engagement banquet, perhaps with an added element of families displaying their strength and tactics.

But too many things today had exceeded her expectations, and she had been utterly unaware.

"What relationship?"

Enola's gaze remained on Shiayar's profile, her azure eyes flickering with a hint of reminiscence.

She seemed to be transported back to when they had first arrived in the Empire Capital; it had also been a winter much like today.

When they first arrived, they were not very wealthy, especially since the cost of living in the Empire Capital had always been much higher than in other regions.

To save on accommodation, Shiayar and Enola had to live in the dormitories St. Roland Academy provided for commoner students.

Back then, Enola had just formed a Soul Pact with Rhongomyniad. However, a Sacred Relic-type Pet Beast was precisely the category that consumed the most extraordinary material, requiring vast resources to develop.

Without that accumulation of resources, an unawakened Sacred Relic was no different from a pile of scrap metal. Consequently, Enola's progress as a Beastmaster would have lagged far behind her peers.

She had wanted to delay her advancement, but Shiayar had flatly refused, saying, "Since you've followed me, I can't allow you to suffer.

"My girl must have the best of everything.

"Whatever the nobles have, you must have too."

Even now, Enola remembered the look in Shiayar's eyes when he said those words. Though he tried to look serious, his dark eyes seemed to be laughing.

So, on later nights, Enola realized Shiayar would often get up stealthily after she fell asleep. By the dim candlelight, he would write on old manuscript paper, occasionally muttering complaints like, One only regrets not reading enough when knowledge is needed, and, I can't remember at all! How did those other transmigrators manage to copy so much?

On countless winter nights, Shiayar used the manuscript fees from his submissions to magazines and newspapers. He would lead Enola by the hand as they purposefully haggled with merchant companies and in the black market, obtaining the extraordinary materials she needed for her advancement.

Sometimes, with a few silver or copper coins left over, Shiayar would buy hot flatbreads from vendors in the Downtown area. He would tear off a small piece for himself and give the rest to Enola.

Warm springs, summer days, autumn sun, winter nights...

One year passed, then two...

Their lives gradually improved. Shiayar's submissions to magazines became bestsellers, and using the royalties as startup capital, they opened a string of shops in the Black Lily District.

But even now, Enola still missed the taste of that winter. So, sometimes Shiayar would still take her back to Downtown to buy some hot flatbreads or roasted sweet potatoes. They would find some steps to sit on; she would eat while Shiayar watched.

...

Gazing at the dark-haired, dark-eyed young man before her, a smile touched Enola's pale face.

He is...

My life.

The young woman's whisper dissipated into the night breeze, unheard by anyone.

As the second Chess Piece of Oaths appeared, the barrier made of illusory flame silently shattered.

No one in the entire hall spoke. The banquet had seen too many upheavals, so many that the atmosphere was suffocating.

But someone finally made a move.

"Silver Fox" Riel.

A moment ago, he had been walking toward Histanlia, seemingly intending to comfort his somewhat bewildered young mistress.

But in the next instant, his form blurred. His fingers became blades, striking straight at Shiayar with a whistling sound that carried lethal intent.

He attacked with killing intent. As the Borgia family's head butler, Riel knew exactly what Shiayar's actions today signified.

If Shiayar wasn't killed, the Royal Family would undoubtedly publicize the truth about Ceylon after today. Even the cooperation between the Sacred Court and the Borgia family, which had been quite harmonious due to Histanlia, would sour because of Shiayar's testimony. The collusion with Warwick, after all, had been conducted without the Sacred Court's knowledge.

But if Shiayar were killed, everything could change for the better.

The Royal Family would undoubtedly be enraged, but Shiayar would be dead, after all.

At worst, the Borgia family would hand Riel himself over to pay with his life. As the family's head butler, he always prioritized the family's interests and had long been prepared to die for them.

Riel did not summon his Pet Beast, as the act of summoning was too conspicuous and would give others time to react.

He was a close-combat Beastmaster specializing in physical enhancement. Even without the amplification from a Pet Beast, he was genuinely of Titled Rank. Striking an unsuspecting opponent, assassinating Shiayar—a Beastmaster who had just broken through to the 4-Ring—would be no problem at all.

The attack tore through the air, aimed straight at Shiayar's throat.

As the Borgia family's head butler, Riel had performed countless similar acts over the years—eliminating dissidents for the family and assassinating promising new talents from enemy forces. He was exceptionally skilled at it.

He could already envision Shiayar's throat being pierced, the young man gasping his last in despair.

But in the next moment, Riel saw Shiayar, whose eyes had been downcast, suddenly raise his head.

Shiayar stared emotionlessly at the attacking Riel. His dark eyes, at some unknown point, had turned a pure crimson.

Shiayar smiled faintly.

Then, he uttered a single word:

"'Divine Evasion.'"