Chapter 25: I Really Want to Advance (Please Follow)

Desecration?!

At the moment he heard the word, Herbert’s heart lurched, as if his blood had frozen, and every fiber of him tensed.

Thump-thump!

As his heart pounded, his mind raced, swiftly analyzing the situation:

What did the Thorn Bishop mean by asking that?

He wouldn’t ambush me without cause—there must be a reason.

What has the Thorn Bishop discovered?

Is he suspicious of me?

Could it be that some trace of energy lingers on me?

Is it Nenasha’s demonic rune?

Or Freyme’s colored scales?

Or Valentina’s hair?

Or… no.

Don’t panic!

He hasn’t moved yet—I mustn’t unravel myself first.

He probably has no proof.

If he truly had solid confidence—or even just a vague lead—he wouldn’t be playing this game; he’d have seized me and interrogated me outright!

This is nothing but a sudden, unexpected probe.

So what is he trying to extract from me?

Herbert pondered, then suddenly felt something was off.

Wait.

Something doesn’t feel right… Why am I so nervous?

With my mental discipline, I shouldn’t be reacting this badly.

Hss—

“...Huh!?”

The moment he realized this, it was as if a thin film obscuring his consciousness had been punctured—his thoughts cleared completely.

In a single instant, Herbert’s spirit regained perfect calm.

Upon sensing again, he indeed felt the faint warmth on the back of his hand—the Sacred Scar and demonic rune had both activated slightly.

They had been passively triggered by external interference.

Someone is trying to manipulate my mind!

That person clearly understands the Blessing of Purity, yet deliberately bypassed it and struck straight at my soul.

Though it lasted only a fleeting moment, they succeeded.

At least enough to unsettle Herbert, making him want to blurt out his secrets.

But that person didn’t know Herbert had more than one layer of defense.

Not only does the Sacred Oath guard the purity of his spirit, but the Demon God’s pact also hardens his will.

And even if those two layers were breached, Herbert still had a third safeguard—the Siren Queen’s Devotion.

One of the effects of this Epic Curse is immunity to external mental manipulation.

In short, the hardest thing on Herbert right now isn’t his little brother—it’s his soul, as unyielding as steel—the kind that sets off metal detectors.

Yet though Herbert had shaken off the mental interference, the danger wasn’t over.

Because neither the demonic rune nor the curse could be spoken of, he had no way to explain why he hadn’t been affected!

The only course now was to play along and keep performing.

Though his mind had raced through all this, only a few breaths had passed in the outside world.

In those few breaths, Herbert’s expression shifted several times.

From bewildered confusion, to thoughtful contemplation, then finally to righteous fury.

He was enraged!

“Desecration?”

Herbert lifted his head, gazing at the Thorn Bishop, his face grave, voice low: “You mean one of the monks in the monastery has fallen into corruption!!?”

“You, could it be…”

He stared at the Thorn Bishop in shock, his expression shifting again and again.

All these changes were caught by the Thorn Bishop’s eyes, causing him to shake his head slightly.

“So nervous—he truly…”

Just as the Thorn Bishop sighed inwardly, convinced Herbert was hiding something, the white-haired boy spoke his next line.

He cried out excitedly: “You want to entrust this matter to me!!?”

Thorn Bishop: ?

What did he say?

Entrust what to him?

The Inquisitor-General was thoroughly bewildered by Herbert’s bizarre performance, beginning to doubt himself.

But Herbert’s act continued—and now that he’d found his rhythm, he was getting better.

“Your Grace, the Inquisitor-General!”

“Please, entrust this task to me!”

Herbert stepped forward, ignoring the thorns on the Inquisitor-General’s body, his face set with fierce determination, and seized the man’s large hand with both of his own, speaking passionately:

“Believe in me! I swear by the honor of the Albert family—I will capture that fallen one, even if I spill every drop of Silverwing blood!”

“Please, give me a chance to prove myself!”

He gazed deeply at the Inquisitor-General, who was clearly frozen in place.

My lord, please give me a chance!

I really, really want to advance!

“...Uh, wait, wait a moment.”

The Thorn Bishop was overwhelmed by this scene, leaning back awkwardly to escape the overly intense gaze.

Is this… right?

He tried to pull his right hand free, but Herbert gripped it tightly, refusing to let go.

Of course, with his strength, he could easily snap Herbert’s hand bones and wrench free—but that would harm an exceptionally promising young talent.

The Inquisitor-General simply couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Yes—he couldn’t.

Before this, Herbert had merely been a somewhat unusual noble youth in his eyes, someone he assumed would eventually break his oath and leave.

But after this exchange, Herbert’s image in his mind had transformed completely.

Hating evil, fearless of darkness, unafraid of sacrifice—every one of these qualities was vital for a Holy Knight.

He would at least become a legendary Holy Knight in the future!

With enough opportunity, he might even rise to become an Epic-level powerhouse!

For a Holy Knight, talent matters, but willpower matters far more.

How many among thousands could produce a Holy Knight with no darkness in his heart, solely devoted to eradicating evil?

Herbert must not be lost!

“Heh, child, you misunderstand.”

Having made his decision, the Thorn Bishop smiled, gently patting Herbert’s shoulder with his left hand, dispelling the lingering mental interference.

“No monk in the monastery has fallen. I was merely conducting routine inquiries—you needn’t worry.”

Herbert “bewilderedly” shook his head, blinked, and asked uncertainly: “Your Grace… really none? Don’t deceive me—I truly can handle it…”

“None at all,” the Thorn Bishop said, slightly exasperated. “Enough. Go back and rest.”

His tone carried finality; even if Herbert “wanted to persist,” he had no choice but to obey, bowing respectfully before leaving.

After he departed, the Thorn Bishop’s smile vanished. He gazed coldly at the shadow beside him and said softly: “...Are you satisfied with this outcome?”

From the shadow, the Rust Nail Bishop materialized, his expression unchanged, meeting the Thorn Bishop’s gaze calmly as he spoke slowly:

“It’s protocol.”

I couldn’t sleep last night. Just as I was about to nap this morning, renovation started downstairs—I barely managed three hours of sleep with noise-canceling headphones, and I’m in terrible shape.

Please, read on—have mercy on this poor child—





(End of Chapter)