Moonblood.
Spirit Sword.
Bido felt as though everything had happened far too suddenly.
And yet, strangely, he could breathe.
It was not the feeling that he “could do more,”
but that “there was something he could do.”
Now, he had something he wanted to protect.
And the thought that the strength to protect it
might exist within him.
Bido reached for the necklace, then stopped.
Inside the meeting room, it would stand out too much.
Just then, Miryeong cut in abruptly.
“Ah, Rangnan.”
“But you can’t use Arkin during the Moonless Night, right?”
The moment those words were spoken,
everyone in the room naturally recalled “that day.”
The moment when Arkin, which should have been unusable, had suddenly “worked.”
Rangnan nodded.
“Yes. That’s right.”
Miryeong immediately shot back.
“…But me, Aslo, and Gareun.”
“We all used it just fine, didn’t we?”
Miryeong turned her hand over and added,
“No awakenings happened, but.”
“Arkin itself was perfectly fine.”
At those words, Aslo said nothing,
and Muryeong quietly lowered his gaze.
Maho only gave a short snort with his arms crossed.
Rangnan’s gaze slowly came to rest on Bido.
Bido felt that gaze.
Longer than usual,
and more precisely.
Rangnan said,
“Normally, it would be impossible.”
“The night of the Moonless Night.”
“The rules waver, and Arkin weakens.”
Rangnan paused briefly, as if choosing his words.
“At the same time, that day.”
“It was also the day Bido’s Mirkin grew stronger than usual.”
Bido swallowed his breath.
Even now, whenever he recalled that day, he felt as though one side of his body stiffened.
Rangnan continued.
“Bido’s power as it is now.”
“Requires him to watch the target.”
“It is a power that sees the moment someone tries to draw out Mirkin, and stops it.”
“But that day was different.”
“It did not ‘look’ at a target.”
“That power covered an entire area.”
Miryeong raised an eyebrow.
“It was like a domain.”
Rangnan nodded.
“Yes.”
And this time, Rangnan spoke more clearly.
“Bido’s Mirkin.”
“Is not simply a power that blocks or reverses Mirkin.”
Raen tilted her head.
“Then what is it?”
Rangnan glanced once at the crescent moon hanging from Bido’s neck, then continued.
“That day, within the domain Bido unfolded.”
“The wavering rules… were fixed in place.”
“The world, which had become ‘unstable’ because the moon had disappeared.”
“Was instead set in order within it.”
Raen blinked.
“Set in order…?”
Rangnan quietly stated the conclusion.
“Bido’s Mirkin is ‘stabilization.’”
Raen tilted her head even further.
“Stabilization?”
Rangnan nodded and added one final explanation.
“Originally, on the night of the Moonless Night, the rules become unstable, making Arkin difficult to use.”
“But within the domain Bido unfolded at that time.”
“The rules stabilized.”
“Stabilization.”
Rangnan spoke in a low voice.
“Sets things in order… at the very moment Mirkin tries to twist the rules.”
“It is the power to fix in place what is wavering.”
Rangnan’s gaze moved to the sword behind Bido’s back.
Tiamar’s sword.
“The rough energy felt from that sword as well.”
“Is of the same nature.”
Bido stiffened his shoulders without realizing it.
Rangnan continued.
“Arkin awakening is also a power that twists a portion of the rules.”
“So that, too… is affected.”
Bido murmured softly,
“Stabilization…”
Raen stared at Bido as if he were amazing.
Rangnan looked at Bido again and spoke slowly.
“Nothing will change.”
“You are doing well even now. You only need to grow more accustomed to it.”
Then Rangnan swept his gaze once around the meeting room.
“The more accustomed you become to that power.”
“The safer we will be.”
As if something had occurred to her, Miryeong said,
“Oh.”
“Then if Bido’s Mirkin… I mean, that stabilization is there.”
Miryeong reached out and grasped at the air.
“Could Arkin be easier to use even normally?”
Rangnan nodded.
“It likely would.”
“Though not as much as during the full moon.”
Rangnan’s gaze pinned Bido once more.
“It depends on what Bido does.”
“Mirkin… grows stronger the more you understand it and grow used to it.”
Raen suddenly said,
“Wow.”
“Then Bido is like a little moon, isn’t he?”
Bido’s eyes widened.
Moon.
That word overlapped with the crescent moon beneath his chest.
Without realizing it, Bido reached for the necklace, then stopped.
“…Moon.”
Bido’s voice flowed out very softly.
“My power is….”
Rangnan briefly wrapped things up.
“That is enough for today.”
“Go and rest.”
Bido, Miryeong,
and Raen rose from their seats.
Yun added,
“We have a little more to discuss.”
“You three should go ahead.”
When Rangnan nodded,
Yun quietly gestured toward the door.
Just as the three of them were about to head for the door,
Rangnan called Bido.
“Bido.”
Bido turned around.
Rangnan looked into Bido’s eyes for a moment, as if checking them,
then said quietly,
“If you properly awaken the power of Moonblood.”
“Even during the full moon… you may not lose your Mirkin.”
Bido’s eyes trembled ever so slightly.
Rangnan added,
“It will become a way to stop the sword’s rampage.”
Bido could not answer.
But he felt the crescent moon beneath his chest sway faintly.
Bido lowered his gaze for a moment,
then slowly nodded.
“…I understand.”
Just before Bido crossed the threshold of the meeting room,
he felt strength enter the hand gripping his necklace.
‘Even during the full moon… I may not lose it.’
Bido understood
that those words did not mean he would “grow stronger.”
‘I can stop it.’
Like that night,
himself from crumbling.
Not the sword, but himself from being lost.
Bido let out one long breath.
The crescent moon beneath his chest
swayed with a very small weight.
As Bido stepped outside the door, he quietly repeated to himself,
‘I have to do it.’
—
The deepest sanctum of the Papal See in Kain, the imperial capital.
The sealed space, accessible only to apostles,
was filled with the scent of incense and lamps burning low.
The light was warm, but there was no warmth.
When the door opened, a man clad in splendid crimson armor
entered without making the slightest sound.
He stopped at the threshold, steadied his breath,
and bowed his head with perfect courtesy.
“Ah, Sir Lucian. You have come.”
At that voice, the man knelt on one knee.
His head lowered even further.
“Lucian Aurelian, commander of the Holy Knights of Light.”
“I greet the apostles of God.”
Another apostle asked,
“Yes, Sir Lucian.”
“What matter brings you here?”
With his head bowed,
Lucian opened his mouth only as much as necessary.
“…Paladin Adel has returned.”
One of the apostles smiled pleasantly.
“Ohh.”
“Did he secure the holy relic?”
Lucian stopped breathing for a brief moment, then continued.
“The mission failed.”
At those words, the lamp flames trembled.
And the air—
sank heavily, invisibly.
The apostle’s voice lowered.
“What do you mean, Lucian?”
Lucian did not let his posture waver by even an inch.
“…The holy relic.”
“They say it has fallen into the hands of the Silver Moon Order.”
Another apostle asked back,
“And?”
Lucian continued speaking.
“He said further pursuit was impossible.”
A short silence wrapped around the space.
The next question fell not in surprise, but like an inspection.
“Why?”
One apostle added in an utterly calm tone,
“Did the tracking priest die?”
Death was treated like a sentence in a report.
Lucian said,
“…Within the Silver Moon Order.”
“They say there is someone who blocks Mirkin.”
“And so the tracking—”
At that moment,
as if the space had been thinly torn, the lamplight distorted once.
For the first time among the apostles, something close to “emotion” flickered.
“Blocks…?”
With his head bowed, Lucian clearly stated the last part.
“Yes.”
“They say Mirkin cannot reach him.”
An apostle said,
“…You may return, Sir Lucian.”
Another apostle added,
“Place the report on the dais.”
Lucian slowly rose with proper courtesy.
Then, without the slightest tremor, he walked forward
and placed the report document atop the dais.
“I shall withdraw.”
The door closed,
and when the sound of his footsteps had completely faded.
The air among the apostles changed.
A high voice came out first.
“What was that?”
“You said Adel would be enough.”
A quiet voice answered dryly,
“A useless fool who is only stubborn.”
A rough voice laughed mockingly.
“So what are we going to do now?”
The quiet voice answered,
“He is not in a hurry.”
“But we must do something.”
The high voice said lightly,
“Why don’t we use this chance to take those troublesome bastards.”
“And wipe them out?”
The rough voice snorted.
“Weren’t we supposed to stay quiet until we swallowed Arku?”
The quiet voice continued lowly,
“You don’t know because you haven’t been paying attention.”
“It’s been delayed all this time because of them.”
The high voice asked back,
“So how are we going to wipe them out?”
The quiet voice said briefly,
“There is a way.”
The quiet voice glanced at the report on the dais.
“Rangnan.”
“And Yun.”
The rough voice immediately burst into hearty laughter.
“I thought Rangnan wasn’t someone we were supposed to touch.”
A brief silence.
The quiet voice spoke again.
“…I do not know how He will view it.”
The high voice tossed out the ending as if wrapping things up.
“In any case.”
“It is time for the Silver Moon Order to disappear.”
The high voice said with a laugh,
“What pretext shall we use this time?”
The quiet voice answered as if it were nothing.
“The suppression of a rebel faction.”
The rough voice propped up his chin.
“Arku will oppose it.”
The quiet voice did not hesitate for even a moment.
“Opposition can be collapsed from within.”
The high voice said, sounding intrigued,
“Then there needs to be an incident.”
“One the public will believe.”
The rough voice exhaled as if sneering.
“How about striking the council?”
The quiet voice looked up at the dais.
“We will go to ‘assist.’”
“Like heroes helping the victims and restoring order.”
The high voice chimed in lightly.
“Good.”
“The Empire becomes the hero.”
“The Silver Moon Order becomes the heinous criminals.”
“The holy relic returns.”
The rough voice added the final piece.
“And Arku.”
“Will come to depend on the Empire.”
The quiet voice drew the conclusion very softly.
“Prepare.”
“We enter under the name of ‘assistance.’”
The lamplight trembled once.