Chapter 1: It’s Good to Have You

“Name.”

The cramped space felt as though it had been soaked in thick night, with only an aging incandescent bulb above struggling to cast a dying glow.

The iron-gray walls looked cold and oppressive beneath the dim halo of light, and the air was heavy with the stale scent of old paper mixed with faint rust.

In the darkness, only the blurred outline of the boy across from them could barely be seen, along with the weak puff of white breath he exhaled with each hurried breath.

When the flickering light forced itself back on, he was rubbing his knuckles against his messy hair, his movements steeped in exhaustion.

“My name… is there really any point in saying it here?”

His voice was hoarse, laced with self-mockery and an indescribable bitterness that cut clearly through the silence.

“…It’s part of the procedure.
Please cooperate.”

Something unreadable flashed through her eyes—so fast no one could grasp it.

The boy fell silent for a moment, the light casting heavy shadows beneath his lowered lashes.

At last, as though conceding, he let the name fall from his lips:

“Dispel Dranfors.”

The woman in uniform continued questioning him according to the standard procedure, even though she—and everyone standing behind her—had no need to ask.

Mr. Dranfors, the boy’s father, had once been a renowned figure in the Police Bureau.
He cracked major cases during his time in service, enough to earn grudges that never faded.
In the end, someone retaliated, and her lover died in the same “accident,” leaving little Dispel standing frozen before the fire.

For a long time afterward, it was the people of the Police Bureau who quietly took care of this child who had lost everything overnight.
They treated the son of their respected colleague as their own.

None of them had expected that the group hiding in the shadows would dare to be so brazen—attacking in broad daylight within the city.

If Alice hadn’t shoved him aside at the last second, the one lying in the morgue right now would be Dispel.

But what about next time?

That silent question weighed on every heart present.

Those lunatics would never stop until Dispel was dead.

“Bang!”

The front doors of the Police Bureau slammed open, crashing against the wall with a violent thud.

Everyone turned toward the girl clutching the doorframe, struggling for breath.
She wore a long white robe, golden hair plastered to her slender neck, her pale cheeks carrying a sickly beauty.

Everyone except Dispel recognized her immediately.

Jocina—candidate saintess of the Church of Light.

None of them had expected her to come.

She had been an orphan rescued during one of Mr. Dranfors’ missions, later accepted as his adopted daughter.

During her elemental assessment at the Academy, she had been revealed to possess unusually high affinity with the Light element.

Elemental affinity grades were classified as Null, Catalyst, Spirit, Resonance, Divine Envoy, and Godborn.

And Jocina’s affinity with Light was at the level of Resonance.

Within human history, that was already an exceptionally high tier.

Thus, it was only natural that she became a candidate saintess and moved to the residence and academy arranged for her by the Church.

From then on, her interactions with Dispel dwindled to almost nothing.

Months without a single message—an act they could only interpret as betrayal and ingratitude.

None of them expected her to rush over upon hearing Dispel had been attacked.

Jocina ignored the strange, judgmental gazes around her and staggered toward Dispel.

“Bro, I heard something happened to you.
Are you… are you okay?”
Her voice trembled ever so slightly.

She called him “brother” according to her memories.

Even though the word felt foreign to Dispel.

Dispel lifted his vacant eyes, his throat burning dry, as though aflame.

“Alice is dead…”

“Did you know?”

“When that wall collapsed, she was still holding my hand.
I fell, and she lay right beside me… with a wall several meters high crushing her…”

His fingertips trembled.
His whole being seemed sealed inside a frozen void.

“It’s okay.
It’s okay now.”

Jocina pulled him into her arms, patting his shoulder gently in comfort.

Dispel collapsed into the embrace, choking, tears soaking through the white fabric of her robe.

Across from them, Brenda sat with her arms crossed, watching with her colleagues in silence.

“Brenda… the written report should be done, right?
Is it okay if I take my brother home with me?”

After a long pause, Jocina looked toward Brenda, her tone tinged with sorrow.

“Alright.
With you by his side, we can be a bit more at ease.”

Brenda nodded, acknowledging her request.

Jocina was Star-Rank Four.
Though still far from the strongest people Brenda knew, she could easily handle ordinary criminal gangs.

“Tomorrow I’ll take a team to the Dranfors estate to check for hidden threats.
Let Dispel stay with you for now.”

Jocina dipped her head slightly, then guided Dispel out of the Police Bureau.

“What a pitiful child…”

One of the guards sighed as he watched them leave.

“He still hasn’t recovered from losing both parents, and now he has to face something like this again.
His mind must be close to breaking.”

“Hey, I heard that… people who fall into complete despair can turn into witches…”

“Heard from where?
Those are rumors from who-knows-how-many years ago.
You don’t actually believe that, do you?”

“Of course not, I was just joking.”

The once-quiet Police Bureau burst into laughter, before it was gradually drowned out by the cry of an owl and swallowed by the darkness.

“Brother, how are you feeling?”

Jocina supported Dispel, their two lonely shadows stretching long under the streetlights.

“I’m fine.”

Dispel indeed looked much better.

“But what about you?
Weren’t you really busy the past two months?
Why did you suddenly have time to come?”

“I was busy.
But who do you think I am?
How could I possibly ignore you?”

Jocina clearly disapproved of Dispel’s indifferent attitude.

“A bishop barged into the meeting to tell me what happened.
I came over the moment it ended.”

“…Thank you.”

“Heh.
We’ve been together for ten years.
Do we still need to say thank you?”

“Even so… I’m really glad you came.”