Chapter 102: Idelfin

Ion checked the time: 5 a.m. Unlike Bran, who didn’t need sleep, Ion needed it to clear his head.

“I’ll sleep two hours. Wake me at seven.”

“…Hmph.”

After saying goodnight to Sanse by the bedside, Ion pulled the blanket over himself and lay down.

But, regrettably, he couldn’t fall asleep.

Only moments after closing his eyes, he sensed a presence nearby.

“Who’s there…?”

Baba stirred in his chest pocket, feeling it too. Ion patted the small bat over his robe, and it quieted.

“…”

Ion’s eyes met Bran’s. Bran’s face was crumpled like paper.

“Damn it, I told those bastards not to follow me.”

“People you know?”

“Yeah. My subordinates. Hybrids, not beasts. So don’t let your guard down either.”

Bran turned on the room light and clapped sharply.

“You’re all caught. Come out and kneel right here!”

At his command, the presences moved.

From the gaps under the door and window, from the shadows in the corners and above the lamp, black mist rose like steam, coalescing into human forms that knelt on one knee before Bran.

All three of Bran’s confidants were hybrids and looked twice as old as the early-twenties-looking Bran—solemn, dignified middle-aged men radiating gravitas. Compared to the frivolous, libertine Bran, they felt far more seasoned. Judging the aura each carried, they were individually stronger than Semil, Zeke, or Killia—far above the giant invasion command. Ion thought the title of Duke should belong to them, not Bran.

“I told you not to follow. How dare you disobey me?”

“How could we not follow when the Duke doesn’t return to the hideout and heads straight for a doghouse?”

“You should’ve assumed I had deep reasons.”

“Deep reasons? We know best that the only thing deep in you is the desire to play! You waited for a chance to party, then bolted the moment you saw one!”

“Ridiculous. Look! That bat!”

“…!”

“…!”

Bran pointed at Ion. The subordinates froze the instant they saw Baba hanging from Ion’s collar—half-asleep, yawning, utterly unimposing—yet they reacted as if facing a snarling beast.

“It really is the descendant of the Demon King’s bat…!”

“Good heavens, that pressure…!”

“If the owner of that bat says he’s going to the doghouse first and then to our hideout, what choice do I have? I, as Duke, had to personally escort it into the doghouse! I’m such a responsible, duty-bound leader. Play? Play?”

Bran puffed up with pride before his stunned subordinates.

Everything was for the hybrids—how dare they misunderstand their lord! Instead of applause, they openly doubted him!

Bran wailed theatrically, beating his chest in feigned betrayal, tears even welling in his eyes. But his confidants weren’t easily fooled.

“We saw you laughing and flirting with those humans earlier. Don’t even try lying.”

Their distrust of their lord ran bone-deep. Even if Bran sobbed on the floor right now, they wouldn’t believe him. Unable to watch any longer, Ion spoke.

“Duke Bran truly guarded Baba. He ignored everyone who approached and devoted himself solely to protection. He only mingled in the village to secure lodging. He didn’t do it in the other villages.”

“…Really?”

“Yes. He’s incredibly diligent. I’ve never seen someone so faithfully focused on their duty without distraction.”

Behind the wide-eyed subordinates, Bran himself stared at Ion in shock.

Dude, don’t look shocked too…

Anyway, Ion’s lie worked. The confidants whispered among themselves, declared they’d trust the Duke this time (though still suspicious), and vanished. Bran sat solemnly until every presence disappeared, then narrowed his eyes sharply and punched the bed.

“Those clingy bastards! Stalking me to my workplace like overbearing parents!”

“Stop it. You’ll break the bed. They won’t come again, right?”

“Once we’re inside Idelfin, they won’t be able to follow even if they want to, those pathetic losers.”

After venting, Bran looked at Ion with a strange expression.

“…Anyway, thanks. You’re a better guy than I thought. Fine. From now on, I’ll overcome my instincts and refrain from sneak attacks while you sleep! Dam Ion.”

His address changed from “human” to “Dam Ion.”

Ion had only helped to end the situation quickly, but…

He’s easy.

A good outcome nonetheless.

Idelfin.

A country roughly the size of Seoul, yet proudly bearing the title “Holy Empire.” There were several reasons it remained unconquered despite being landlocked within the Illiand Empire and even held comparable status.

First: Three of Idea’s only direct holy sites touched by Lord Elida’s hand were all located here. Pilgrims from across the continent flocked to Idelfin. Its pilgrimage tourism was recession-proof—even thriving more during wartime.

Second: Idelfin’s military, the Holy Knights, wielded “divine power” instead of mana or aura. With the Holy Sovereign’s blessing infused into “divine armaments,” they could attack and defend simultaneously.

Third: The fanatical faith of Idelfin’s citizens. They were zealots of Lord Elida. That faith extended into absolute loyalty to the Holy Sovereign (Elida’s proxy) and fierce patriotism. Rich or poor, clever or foolish—every citizen would lay down their life without hesitation for the Sovereign and Idelfin. The Illiand Empire respected the god and holy sites, but the bigger reason they never touched Idelfin was simple: Don’t mess with crazies.

Into this untouchable Holy Empire stepped Ion’s party.

Using forged pilgrim IDs, they headed to registration.

The pilgrimage had a set route: two holy sites first, then finally the Holy See—the Sovereign’s residence, workplace, and palace—built atop the greatest holy site, rivaling the imperial palace in scale. Security was naturally tight, the atmosphere solemn…

“You must receive stamps from both sites to enter the Holy See. Missing even one means expulsion and starting over from the first site. Be careful.”

“Yes.”

“Brothers undertaking pilgrimage together—Lord Elida must be pleased. Have you arranged lodging?”

“Yes, booked via crystal.”

“Very thorough brothers. May Elida walk with you on your pilgrimage.”

The clerk smiled brightly. Bran smiled back.

“Our lovely clerk, despite repetitive early-morning duties, still bestows a pure, lily-white smile that energizes pilgrims. May Elida walk with you, bearer of this beautiful smile.”

He finished with a wink. The clerk blushed.

Leaving registration and joining the throng of pilgrims, Ion glared at Bran.

“We need to stay as low-key as possible. If you keep flirting with everyone we meet, I’ll go alone.”

“Don’t make me laugh. You’re only dragging me along because you’re scared something might happen to Baba-nim. You can’t ditch me, yet you threaten?”

“…”

Ion trembled. Baba flapped from its perch on the pot.

“Dam Ion, don’t worry about me. Nothing bad will happen. Traveling with that guy is the worst thing.”

“If you’re going to say nothing bad will happen, at least be able to breathe fire first.”

“Dam Ion keeps saying weird things. How does a bat breathe fire? Are you getting stupid from hanging out with him?”

Bran snickered at the earnest worry. Ion sighed; Bran, still laughing, walked ahead.

“Hurry up and walk. Each site will take days. Keep up.”

He was right. The distances could be covered in a day by magic carriage, but the queues at each site would be enormous. Two stamps were required for the Holy See. They had to move quickly.

They reached the first holy site in southern Idelfin.

Humans and elves of every skin and hair color formed lines stretching into the distance. Some prayed reverently, some dozed, some chatted excitedly with companions… and some were fighting.

“Hey! I was here first! You stole my spot while I went to the bathroom?”

“‘A minute,’ my ass. Three hours gone means you forfeited! Go to the back, asshole!”

“I waited two full days! You want me to start over? Thief bastard spouting bullshit?!”

Pow!

The man who’d been gone three hours finally threw a punch. The victim didn’t fight back, only smirked from the ground.

“Idiot. Using violence right in front of a holy site? You’re finished.”

Bystanders clicked their tongues.

“Oh no. Hey, violence here is big trouble.”

“Too late. Here they come.”

“Tsk tsk. Two days just became a week.”

The man who’d thrown the punch froze, face filling with regret.

“Hey, over there.”

Bran nudged Ion’s elbow. Three knights in silver armor and winged helms approached with measured steps. On their breastplates was the emblem of Lord Elida: a branch cradled by wings.

Holy Knights.

The noisy queue fell silent. In the hush, a knight spoke gently to the aggressor.

“Brother pilgrim. To raise a fist with a holy site before you… God sees all.”

“I—I’m sorry. I lost my temper… Please forgive me just once. Give me another chance. I’m sorry.”

“Of course. Lord Elida will surely grant you another chance. Come repent with us.”

“W-wait. Doesn’t minor repentance take three or four days?”

“Yes. Even the short version takes three days. Is that a problem?”

“After I finish, I go to the very back of the line?”

“Yes. Leaving your place for over an hour means returning to the end. Any problem?”

“N-no way! I’m not going! That’ll add at least another week! Are you trying to kill me?!”

At the man’s resistance, the knight’s hand moved to his waist.

“Shall we use divine power?”

“…!”