Chapter 130: Debts Must Be Repaid

By the morning of the next day, under the accumulating toll of nights and months, Peretti had finally paid off everything she owed—along with the heavy interest that came with it.

A witch’s physique was indeed far beyond that of an ordinary human.

Josuna slept soundly on the bed, her breathing slow and languid, tinged with a lazy heaviness. Meanwhile, Peretti was already able to rise cleanly from the bed, moving with ease as if she had merely taken a short nap.

She raised a hand and touched her cheek. The skin beneath her fingertips showed no trace of exhaustion—no weariness, not even the faintest flush of fatigue.

The bedroom door was left slightly ajar, a wide gap deliberately reserved for her.

Perhaps her performance last night had pleased Josuna?

Peretti stared at the door, a cold glint of vigilance flashing through her eyes.

How could Josuna possibly let down her guard so completely over something like that and allow her to leave freely?

This wasn’t trust—it was another form of test.

Peretti understood this clearly, yet she also recognized it as a rare opportunity.

Since Josuna was willing to act out this “reassurance,” she might as well go along with it, letting the other’s vigilance loosen just a little more.

Mingtong wasn’t home—she had already confirmed that last night.

After turning the room upside down, she still couldn’t find her original clothes. Most likely, they had been hidden away by Josuna.

Left with no choice, she picked the simplest, least conspicuous dress from the pile of flashy, impractical gowns prepared for her.

Fortunately, her cloak was still hanging in the corner, able to conceal most of the outfit. Then she reached under the bed, retrieved Feiye, and tucked it back against her chest.

After leaving Mingtong’s basement, Peretti wasted no time rushing toward the church.

Along the way, the wind carried waves of heat through the streets, yet Peretti felt a constant prickle at the back of her neck.

That sensation of being watched clung to her like a shadow. Several times, she abruptly turned her head, her gaze sweeping across alleyway shadows and the locust trees at street corners—yet she failed to catch even the faintest silhouette.

There was no need to think about who was following her.

Peretti pressed her lips together, unconsciously quickening her pace.

Inside the church, the air was thick with the intertwined scent of sandalwood and holy light. Devout believers knelt on the benches, whispering prayers that echoed softly through the vast hall.

The bishop stood beside the altar, eyes closed in prayer. Hearing footsteps, he opened his eyes and looked over—only to pause in visible surprise when his gaze fell on Peretti.

His eyes lingered briefly on the dress she wore, clearly not priest attire. Then, recalling Peretti’s abnormal affinity with light elements, he found it reasonable.

Quickly suppressing his surprise, the bishop smiled warmly and raised his hand in a gesture of blessing.

“May the Holy Light be with you, Miss Peretti.”

“Do you know where Anasha is right now?”

“Miss Anasha…” The bishop stroked his chin, brows slightly furrowed as if searching his memory. “She left early this morning with members of the Regulation Squad. Said they were heading to the corps to investigate some necessary intelligence. Why? Do you need her urgently?”

“N-no… it’s not urgent.” Peretti hurriedly shrank her neck, subconsciously stepping back half a step. The tips of her ears flushed red instantly.

If what happened last night were spoken aloud in public… she’d die of embarrassment right here in the church.

In truth, she had come partly to clarify last night’s misunderstanding, and partly to inquire about Fakenna—that was the real purpose of her trip.

“Then… where exactly is the Brest military camp?” Peretti clutched the ties of her cloak, her voice low, eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere.

The Brest military camp was built outside the city.

Following the bishop’s directions, Peretti arrived at the camp. Just as she passed through the grand gate engraved with the knights’ emblem, she ran straight into Anasha, who was walking toward her.

Members of the Regulation Squad followed behind, each casting curious glances at Peretti.

“Oh? Isn’t this Peretti? What brings you here?” Anasha stopped, crossing her arms as her gaze swept over Peretti from head to toe.

There was a teasing glint in her eyes, as if she had seen through everything. The corners of her lips curled into a mischievous smile.

“Judging by how you look… just woke up? Must’ve had quite the workout last night, huh?”

“Stop! Don’t say another word!” Peretti’s face flushed bright red instantly. She hurried forward and covered Anasha’s mouth, glancing around nervously, afraid someone might overhear.

Her fingertips trembled slightly—half from embarrassment, half from urgency.

“I’m here to explain! What happened last night is not what you think, so stop guessing!”

Anasha pried her hand away, laughing even harder. She patted Peretti’s shoulder, wearing a knowing expression.

“I know, I know. Deep sisterly bonds, right?”

She paused, then added while looking at Peretti’s stunned expression, “Not related by blood, but closer than family. Isn’t that right?”

“Huh? How do you know all that?”

Peretti froze.

Those were things from before she became a witch. Logically, no one except her and Josuna should know. Where had Anasha heard it?

“It’s written in your file. Isn’t that something you filled out yourself?”

Peretti remembered clearly—when she served as a priest, she had never filled out any such file. All those procedures had been handled entirely by Josuna.

…Could it be that Josuna filled it out?

Peretti shook her head blankly, her heart slowly sinking.

She hadn’t expected that Josuna had been laying the groundwork for their relationship from the very beginning—even down to details like this.

Anasha watched her shifting expression, the smile in her eyes fading slightly.

She had once been puzzled—Peretti had always disliked nobles and the church, yet she tolerated Josuna, the candidate saint, to an unusual degree. Even when humiliated in public, she never resisted.

Only after seeing that file did she realize—they had grown up together, their bond already that deep.

Unable to resist, she teased again:

“All I can say is, I wish you two a long and happy life together.”

“When you learn that a loved one survived a disaster, it’s only natural to get emotional. And Josuna didn’t look well either—she used to act like that when she was upset.”

“That’s… normal.” Seeing Peretti’s expression worsen, Anasha softened her tone slightly, though a trace of teasing remained. “Still, I should remind you—everything in moderation. Otherwise, you might hurt your body.”

“Hey!” Peretti was both angry and flustered, her face so red it looked like it might drip blood. “Stop saying things that can be misunderstood!”

“Misunderstood?” Anasha raised a brow, her eyes full of amusement. “Isn’t it the truth?”

“Tch…” Peretti was left speechless, embarrassed and annoyed. She abruptly changed the subject, raising her voice slightly.

“What about Fakenna? How’s your investigation going?”

“Trying to change the subject already?” Anasha saw right through her embarrassment, deliberately dragging out her tone, the teasing in her eyes deepening.

Seeing Peretti on the verge of exploding, she found it amusing. Peretti always appeared so optimistic—who would’ve thought she had such an easily flustered side?

“Talk about the important stuff!” Peretti stomped her foot, ears burning red, fists clenched as if she’d snap if teased any further.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop.” Anasha relented, the smile on her face gradually fading into seriousness.

“The situation is worse than we expected. Fakenna’s prestige in the army is too high. The knights he personally trained—even if faced with a military tribunal—are unwilling to raise their weapons against him. We can barely gather even two hundred knights who are willing to act.”

At this point, she sighed, her tone filled with helplessness.

“These people grew up under his watch, trained by his own hands. To them, Fakenna isn’t just their commander—he’s family. Orders from above don’t carry nearly as much weight as a single word from him. Even if we force them into action, they might not truly fight.”

“And that’s not even the worst part.” Anasha lowered her voice further, a hint of wariness flashing in her eyes.

“We’ve found that the ability Fakenna uses is suspected to be [Wrath].”

“This confirms his identity as a heretic… but you know as well as I do—divine favor is still divine favor. It’s power granted by a god.”

“Killing him… will be far more difficult than we initially expected.”