Chapter 78: Pale Fury

Ailbana stood there, completely stunned, her feet rooted to the ground as if nailed in place.

She had never expected to see Pereti here—let alone see her together with that man. That outwardly refined yet inwardly monstrous Count Joleidi… and smiling so brightly, no less.

The Pereti before her was utterly different from the one last night in the church—the girl who trembled, whose eyes were filled with fear.

Pereti quickly noticed Ailbana standing dazed at the bottom of the steps. She paused her conversation with Joleidi, the gentle smile still perfectly intact on her face.

“Apologies, Count Joleidi. I have a personal matter to attend to.”

As she spoke, she cast what seemed like a casual glance toward Ailbana.

Joleidi, ever perceptive, immediately understood. He smiled and nodded.
“Then I won’t disturb Miss Pereti. I look forward to our next meeting.”

“Of course.” Pereti returned the nod, watching him leave.

As Joleidi passed by Ailbana, he even gave her a polite nod. That fake smile made her stomach churn.

“Ailbana, did you need something from me?”

Pereti walked down the steps slowly, her expression still wearing that flawless smile—as if nothing had ever happened between them the night before.

“I… I thought you had left…” Ailbana’s throat tightened. Facing this familiar yet unfamiliar figure, she found herself at a loss for words.

“Left?” Pereti let out a soft laugh, tinged with self-mockery.
“If I leave here, where can I go? Back to the tower? The elven forest? Don’t be ridiculous. With my identity as a witch, going to those places would be no different from courting death.”

For a moment, Ailbana felt as though Pereti’s figure had become blurred, like she was standing behind a thin veil.

She instinctively stepped forward, trying to see her more clearly—only for her gaze to fall on the emblem pinned to Pereti’s chest.

It wasn’t a priest’s insignia.

It was a golden medal—symbolizing the highest honor.

Noticing her gaze, Pereti calmly removed the medal and held it out. The golden surface gleamed under the sunlight, almost painfully bright.

“This morning, I came to the church. They said they wanted to award me, so they gave me this… and a house in the outskirts.”

Her tone was casual, as if it meant nothing.

“I figured that since I have a place to stay now, there’s no need to trouble you anymore. So I took all my belongings and left.”

“What? Wait—!”

Ailbana grabbed her shoulders abruptly, her fingers tightening. Her eyes were filled with disbelief.

“Why have you become like this? What did that Pope say to you?!”

She couldn’t accept this version of Pereti. The girl who had despised the nobles just last night—how could she accept the church’s reward overnight, even laugh and chat with someone like Joleidi?

“Ailbana.”

The smile vanished from Pereti’s face in an instant. Her gaze turned cold and sharp.

“Tell me—even if you know what those nobles have done, what can you actually do about it?”

Ailbana froze.

She opened her mouth, wanting to argue, wanting to say she could do something—but the words never came.

Because she couldn’t answer.

What could she do? With just her identity as a duke’s daughter, with nothing but anger—could she really change anything?

“See?” Pereti continued coldly. “You’re clearly furious about what Joleidi has done. But when he walked past you just now—what did you do?”

“Even you, as a duke’s daughter, are powerless against the state of humanity. So what difference would my resistance make?”

Ailbana lowered her head, her nails digging deep into her palms. Her throat felt blocked—she couldn’t say a word.

“Your anger is pale. It has no power at all. Between turning a blind eye and fighting to the end, you chose the most useless middle ground—struggling. Just give up. It’s meaningless.”

“I never thought you would say something like that!”

Ailbana suddenly looked up, fury and disappointment surging in her eyes. She grabbed Pereti’s collar and threw a punch without hesitation.

It was fast. Hard. Carrying all her anger, unwillingness, and despair.

“Big sister!”

Feiye cried out, quickly supporting the staggering Pereti. Her eyes turned sharp as she raised her hand, ready to strike back.

“Stop!”

Pereti wiped the corner of her mouth, her voice low as she stopped her.

Her cheek quickly swelled red, a trace of blood appearing at the corner of her lips. But her gaze only grew colder.

“Then tell me—what can I do?!”

Her voice suddenly rose, filled with suppressed pain and rage.

“Should I fight these nobles to the bitter end—dragging you and Josuna into opposing your own class, putting yourselves in danger for me? Or should I just kill them all?!”

“Tell me—can I kill them all? In this entire city-state, how many people like Joleidi are there? Kill one Joleidi, and countless more will appear!”

“Use your brain and think! What will your anger bring you? It solves nothing—it will only drag you deeper into trouble and harm the people around you!”

“This is nothing but pale anger. Completely useless!”

She stared straight at Ailbana.

“If that punch had landed on Joleidi—if it made him pay—maybe I’d respect you. But right now, you’re just a coward stuck between two choices. Too afraid to compromise completely, yet too afraid to truly resist.”

“…Coward…”

Ailbana repeated the word softly.

It felt like all her strength had been drained. She let out a bitter laugh, her fists clenched until her knuckles turned white.

Lowering her head, she walked step by step up the church stairs. Each step felt unbearably heavy.

Pereti was right.

She was a coward.

Her heart burned with anger—but she could do nothing. All she could do was bury it deep inside and swallow the bitterness alone.

For the first time, she felt that the title “duke’s daughter” was nothing more than a fragile shell. Strip it away—and she was nothing.

Not even capable of protecting the people she wanted to protect.

“Big sister… Ailbana left.”

Feiye watched her retreating figure disappear into the church, her voice carrying a trace of worry.

“I know.”

Pereti sat down on the cold steps, still rubbing her aching cheek. The blood at the corner of her lips hadn’t been wiped away.

Ailbana had truly been angry. That punch hadn’t held back at all.

“Big sister… are you okay?” Feiye crouched beside her, looking at her pale face and swollen cheek with concern.

“…No.”

Pereti opened her eyes, her voice slightly hoarse.

“I want to be alone for a while. Feiye, can you keep an eye on Ailbana? She’s probably going to see the Pope. Don’t let anything happen to her.”

“But that would put you in danger!”

Pereti pulled aside the collar around her neck, pointing at the rose pattern engraved on it.
“Didn’t you say you can find me wherever I am as long as I have this? Don’t worry.”

Feiye hesitated for a moment, then nodded reluctantly.
“…Alright. Be careful. I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

Watching Feiye hurry into the church, Pereti slowly stood up and walked alone to the prayer area at the side.

It was quiet and solemn.

Sunlight filtered through stained glass, casting fragmented colors across the floor.

Once, this was where she had put on the priest’s insignia and become part of the church.

Now, it felt like nothing more than a ridiculous dream.

After some time, soft, deliberate footsteps approached.

Pereti looked up.

A familiar figure walked toward her, accompanied by several church followers.

At the front—

was Dunn, the one in charge of the storage room.

“Long time no see, Miss Pereti.”

His voice carried a strange gentleness, completely different from his usual silent demeanor.

The followers spread out in tacit understanding, forming a circle that surrounded her. Their eyes held undisguised hostility.

Pereti’s heart tightened—but her expression remained calm. A faint, mocking smile even curled at her lips.

“Dunn? At this hour, shouldn’t you be guarding your storage room? What brings you here?”

“Nothing much,” Dunn said evenly. “Just a small request.”

He raised both hands, holding out a black ribbon, offering it to her with exaggerated politeness.

At this point, even if Pereti were slow to react, she could tell something was wrong.

This wasn’t a request.

It was blatant kidnapping.

She looked at the ribbon in his hands, the mockery in her eyes deepening.

“Oh? You’re pretty bad at kidnapping, aren’t you? Since when do kidnappers ask their target to tie themselves up?”

Dunn’s smile didn’t change.

“I simply thought… this would be more polite.”

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