Scarlet Moon Goddess Irina

Irina glanced at the man before her and made a judgment—could it be that King Dawn VII harbored deep resentment toward the church?

It wasn't an unreasonable suspicion. After all, in this era of divine right, Dawn VII wouldn't have secured the throne without the support of several key religious institutions. Even after becoming king, he was still forced to cater to the church's influence—an obligation that must have been difficult for a ruler to tolerate.

Irina's thoughts then drifted to Horne Ferrent, the brother Dawn VII had defeated in the struggle for the throne. Forced to flee from Seraphite after his loss, Horne didn't simply vanish into obscurity. Instead, he founded an organization known as Storm Throne, which frequently clashed with the Kingdom of Night and the various religious orders, earning itself the reputation of a notorious heretical group.

"Oh no… Could the people who assassinated the original Irina be from Storm Throne? Were they trying to provoke a war between the Kingdom of Night and the Kingdom of Moonlight to cause trouble for the former?"

Irina had a tendency to overthink, and as she reached this conclusion, her head started to ache.

"No, no, this is just my speculation. I can't be certain. There could be other reasons…"

Taking a deep breath to clear her mind, she pushed the thoughts aside and followed the royal procession to the Starlight Church.

Though the headquarters of Starlight Church was located in Starlight City in the northern Free Federation, its influence spread across every corner of the Crimson Moon Continent. In the royal capital of the Kingdom of Night alone, there were three major Starlight churches, located in the northern, central, and eastern districts. Among them, Windwhisper Cathedral in the northern district was the largest in Seraphite.

As expected, the day's events unfolded exactly as Feilin had described. They completed their prayers at Windwhisper Cathedral, listened to the choir's performance, and participated in a reading of the Starlight Codex led by Pope Meister VIII.

By the time everything was over, night had already fallen. Exhausted, Irina slumped into the carriage and returned to Silverleaf Academy.

At the very least, there had been no assassination attempts today, which was a relief.

"So next is the banquet hosted by that mentor, Robony?" Irina asked as she walked through the academy alongside Feilin.

"First, we need to go back and change into formal attire," Feilin replied firmly.

Irina found it troublesome, but there was no room for argument with Feilin when it came to such matters.

Back at the villa, Irina changed into a dark red Lolita dress before being dragged by Feilin to the academy's teaching area.

The banquet was being held in a large classroom in the Foreign Languages Department. By the time they arrived, the room was brightly lit, and laughter filled the air.

"Oh, our esteemed princess from a foreign land has arrived."

"Good evening, beautiful princess. It's an honor to meet you. I am—"

"Princess, do you remember me? We've met before."

As soon as Irina entered, all eyes turned to her. Several guests stepped forward to introduce themselves, each striving to present themselves as a gentleman.

Forcing a smile, Irina responded, "Oh, it's you… Of course, I remember… Good evening…"

Inwardly, she was categorizing them: Random Noble A, Random Noble B, and the guy who just said good evening—Random Noble C…

She continued to exchange pleasantries, struggling to maintain her polite facade.

"Alright, everyone, let's not overwhelm the princess. Won't you allow her to take a seat first?"

A young man stepped forward to help Irina out of her predicament. He was around twenty years old, dressed in a black double-breasted suit. He had faint stubble along his jawline, brown hair, and striking emerald-green eyes.

This was Frederick, a favored student of the banquet's host, Robony. At his word, the crowd naturally parted.

The classroom had been rearranged for the banquet, with tables set throughout the space. At Frederick's invitation, Irina took a seat at one of the front tables.

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Frederick," Irina said, carefully following the etiquette Feilin had drilled into her. She smiled politely in gratitude.

"It was my duty, Your Highness," Frederick responded with perfect decorum.

Now, it was time for the banquet's host to appear.

Robony entered the room wearing his usual black robes and black-rimmed glasses, his demeanor scholarly and composed. Given his expertise in multiple languages, he certainly deserved the reputation of an intellectual.

As soon as he appeared, all eyes turned to him.

Robony scanned the room before slowly speaking.

"Can you feel it? The darkness in my heart… It surges like a tidal wave, consuming me step by step."

A wave of bewilderment swept through the banquet as guests exchanged confused glances.

Why was the foreign language mentor suddenly saying something like that?

"The darkness has never receded. The light has never arrived!"

With those words, Robony pulled a gleaming dagger from his coat—and, without hesitation, drove it straight into his own heart.

The sharp sound of flesh being torn filled the air as blood splattered across the room.

Irina, seated nearby, watched in shock as crimson droplets landed on the table before her. She met Robony's dazed gaze just before he collapsed to the ground.

"Mentor!"

Frederick's expression changed dramatically as he rushed forward. The other guests quickly snapped out of their stunned silence and surged toward the fallen mentor.

But it was too late. Robony was dead—his life had completely slipped away.

"What just happened? Did he invite us here just to make us witness his suicide?"

Irina struggled to process what she had just seen. She had never expected anything like this.

Even Feilin, usually composed, was visibly tense. Abandoning her usual etiquette, she stood close to Irina, warily watching the people around them.

Crying, shouting, and panicked screams filled the air.

It wasn't long before the Kingdom's Security Bureau arrived.

A death—especially the suicide of a Silverleaf Academy professor—was no trivial matter. The Security Bureau had to treat it with the utmost seriousness.

Dozens of officers in black uniforms entered the scene, securing the area and preventing anyone from leaving.

Leading them was a man who stood out immediately. He had piercing blue eyes and brown hair, appearing to be in his mid-twenties. His well-fitted black uniform emphasized his tall and commanding presence, exuding an aura of unwavering authority.

His name was Grace Minternerva.