Only then did the duke’s eyes widen.

"The other report... you meant for it to be sent to His Majesty the Emperor?"

"His Majesty will gladly take your hand." Ian nodded.

It was obvious that the Emperor would see the western territory as something stolen by the Great Church. There was no way he would miss such a perfect chance to reclaim influence and undermine the Church’s authority.

"He may offer aid immediately, or, if not, he’ll move before the Church does once the chaos in the capital settles. The Black Isles would serve as the perfect justification for His Majesty to dispatch elite forces," Ian said without hesitation.

He then lifted his goblet with a faint smile. "And if you’re careful, the pure devotees won’t even notice your shift. You know well enough what the relationship between the royal house and the Church is like."

Though it was a result-oriented plan that skipped the most critical steps, Ian offered no further explanation. He had no intention of handing over every piece so easily—people always undervalued what came without effort.

"Indeed... you’ve presented a most excellent path..."

The duke’s quiet voice followed a few seconds later. "I’m ashamed to admit it, but with my abilities, smuggling such a report into the capital would be nearly impossible, Agent of the Saint."

Ian looked at him over the rim of his goblet as the duke lowered his gaze.

"No matter how trustworthy the courier, the Great Church will notice the moment a record of entry into the capital exists," said the duke.

Ian swallowed his wine, the corner of his mouth twitching faintly.

As expected, what the duke feared most wasn’t failure, but being branded a traitor. With his entire house at stake, this fear was only natural and explained why he’d been controlled by the pure devotees all this time.

"And just as in your case, Agent of the Saint, His Imperial Majesty would also consider me a man of the Church. Even with sufficient justification, I cannot be certain he would believe my sincerity," said the duke.

Right then, Ian lowered his goblet and said casually, "If you wish... I could assist with those matters."

The duke froze, lifting his head.

A faint smile touched Ian’s lips as he added in a near whisper, "But if I do... it will no longer be something that can be called a small favor."

The duke’s expression stiffened slightly. He clearly understood the implication—that he would be indebted to Ian.

Still, Ian did not press him.

"Of course, my name would be tied to it as well. So you would have to see it through without fail."

With that, he set his goblet down on the armrest, laced his fingers together on his thigh, and simply watched the duke in silence.

It wasn’t just to force him into choosing for himself.

Ian was certain he wouldn’t back down now.

"I cannot afford to show cowardice twice."

As expected, the duke said at last, straightening and meeting Ian’s gaze, "I will prepare thoroughly and carry it out without causing trouble. Please... lend me your aid, Agent of the Saint."

Ian gave a small nod, then, after a brief pause, said, "Send the report not to the capital, but to House Sonnier."

The duke’s brows twitched in confusion. "House... Sonnier?"

Ian tilted his head slightly as he replied, "I’ll send word ahead of time. Then His Highness the Third Prince will receive it personally."

Duke’s eyes widened.

It was clear he already knew that the Third Prince was the strongest candidate for succession, and the Second Princess was closely connected to Ian.

"His Highness will request a private audience with His Majesty and deliver the report himself. The contents of that meeting won’t be recorded, so any evidence tying you to it will remain solely in the Emperor’s hands."

If the message were delivered only through the Scroll of Correspondence, the suspicious Emperor would inevitably assume the duke was Ian’s man. It was better to place undeniable proof directly into his hands, even if it was troublesome.

Of course, it also served other purposes: conserving space in the Scroll of Correspondence, giving the princess a chance to gain favor with the Third Prince, and buying time.

The Emperor, too, would believe Ian had indirectly aided him.

"I see... So you have not sided with His Highness the Crown Prince after all, but remain aligned with the Empire."

The duke seemed convinced.

He placed a hand over his chest and bowed. "I will do as you instructed. You have my deepest gratitude for opening this path, Agent of the Saint."

"The thanks are unnecessary. I’m not helping you out of pure goodwill," said Ian.

The duke cautiously raised his head and asked, "How may I repay you?"

"One day, I may require your testimony. Until then, simply continue quietly, faithfully, and fulfill your duties."

With a slight shrug, Ian brought the goblet to his lips once more.

That alone was enough to stiffen the duke’s expression.

He stared at Ian for a moment before asking carefully, "Are you planning to purge the pure devotees from the Great Church?"

"Only those who twist the will of the heavens to suit themselves and claim the Church’s power and authority as their own."

Ian lowered his goblet and met the duke’s eyes again. "Don’t concern yourself too much. By the time I need you, everything will already be over."

The tone was gentle, but the duke could only swallow dryly, unable to respond. A fresh wave of fear crossed his face—whether it was fear of the pure devotees or of the demigod before him promising divine judgment, only he could know.

"In that case, I’ll be going."

Ian didn’t care to find out. He set the empty goblet on the armrest and rose from his seat.

"Don’t follow me. We’re not quite finished yet."

With a faint smile, he flung the carriage door open without waiting for a reply.

A few steps away, the paladin, standing with his back to the door, turned immediately.

Thud!

Ian stepped out and slammed the door shut behind him with enough force to rattle it, his expression already gone cold as he fixed his gaze on Cesare.

"Is there a problem?" The deep voice came from behind the knight’s visor. He didn’t avoid Ian’s stare.

Ian’s nose wrinkled slightly as he spat out, "You already know what was said in there. So let me ask you something, Sir Cesare."

Stepping closer, Ian lowered his voice. "Are you a member of the Dawn Brigade?"

The eyes visible through the visor narrowed slightly.

Ian’s lips curled into a faint smirk as he bore into him. "You don’t even ask what that is. Good. Then pass along a message when you return. Sending just two at a time like before will never be enough to achieve your goal."

"I’ll keep your advice in mind," Cesare answered after a brief pause, his voice colder than before.

Ian let out a quiet scoff and turned away without another word.

The gazes of Cesare and the squire burned into his back, but Ian stepped into the inn without looking back.

Creak— Thud!

He was hit first by the smell, then by the sight of the bustling dining hall, crowded with guests who had come down from their rooms

As Ian crossed the busy common room, a waitress’s voice called out from the distance.

"Is the carriage still out front?"

Without breaking stride, he gave a small shrug. "Seems like it."

"Then you must’ve been stopped too, my lord. I really don’t understand what they’re doing. It’s not like they came just to disrupt business."

"Don’t worry about it. Looks like they’ll be leaving soon."

As Ian answered and approached the stairs, the waitress’s grumbling finally turned into a relieved smile.

"That’s good to hear. By the way, everyone seems busy. When should I prepare your meal?"

"No need." Shaking his head as he stepped onto the stairs, Ian added, "Just pack something we can eat on the move."

"Pack? Wait, you’re leaving already?"

The waitress’s eyes widened, but Ian didn’t respond. He simply climbed the stairs and entered the upper hallway, brushing past other guests reeking of alcohol as they came down.

The dim corridor stretched ahead, lined with doors on both sides.

"Later than I expected. Must’ve had a lot to talk about?"

The door to his room flew open, and Thesaya leaned out, clearly having been waiting on edge.

Catching Ian’s gaze as he approached, she immediately added, "So? What did he say? Just like we expected?"

"It’s a long story." Ian shrugged, glancing past her at Lily and Elia peeking out from behind. "So let’s get ready to leave first. I’ll explain on the way."

"Then you’re the only one left," Thesaya replied without hesitation, flashing a grin at Lily and Elia. "We already finished everything while waiting."

***

On the carriage rolling along the main road, seated at the driver’s seat, Miguel let out a dry chuckle.

"Heh... so he was pretending to hold you back to ask for help."

He had just heard the full story from Ian.

From the open window behind him, Thesaya said, "Unexpected, sure, but not that strange. If I had to live my whole life as a puppet under surveillance, I’d have done whatever it took too."

"You handed a troublesome problem to the Great Church and tied the duke to the Emperor in one move. That’s... quite the bold decision, Sir Ian," Elia added, her gaze lingering on Ian as he rode alongside the carriage on Nila.

He was now pulling the Scroll of Correspondence from his pocket dimension.

"More than bold," Thesaya scoffed, nodding in agreement. "You’ve stirred up not just the Round Table, but even the Dawn Brigade. The Great Church’s going to tear itself apart over this. Just wait—they’ll be at each other’s throats soon enough."

"I was worried the Purification Squad might come after us. You’re saying the Church might fracture instead?" Miguel asked, momentarily taken aback.

Elia, her eyes narrowing slightly, nodded. "It’s a plausible outcome. This would be good news for His Majesty in many ways... perhaps even for His Highness the Crown Prince."

"And the one in question might not even realize what’s happening."

They’re practically writing the whole play themselves.

Oblivious, Miguel let out an impressed exclamation. "I honestly don’t know how you come up with all that in such a short time. I can barely keep up with nobles talking in circles as it is."

"Even among pointy-ears, there aren’t many who could do what Ian does." Thesaya snorted, then clicked her tongue lightly before adding, "But still, I doubt His Majesty can deal with the Black Isles right away."

"That’s true," Ian replied, now rolling up the scroll. "Even at the fastest, it’ll take at least a month for the report to reach him. And even if he acts immediately, it’ll still take several more months."

"You’re not seriously thinking of taking the pointy-ears and kitties and sweeping through the Black Isles yourself, are you, Ian?"