Chapter 69: The Intent Behind the Mask (2)
'I am going to ask Yulian for a favor?'
What exactly was he trying to say?
Eleanor was baffled by the perplexing words but was not naive enough to show it openly.
The "Yulian" she had known so far had been, at best, foolish. Or rather, he "used to be" foolish.
If she were Yulian, she would cleverly exploit his infamous reputation as the "Smiling Executioner" and his role as "Blind Eyes" for political or economic advantage.
'Until recently, Yulian had none of those traits and just treated murder as a pastime.'
However, something had changed at some point.
Eleanor was certain of that.
'It must have been after he got a head injury during the demon extermination near the borders.'
His inherent nature hadn't changed.
He was still the "Smiling Executioner" and the 'Imperial Hound'.
But now, he seemed to have added a spoonful of cunning and a tinge of political color.
He didn't act directly, yet there was a feeling that he orchestrated the broader flow or something from behind the scenes—a shadowy presence adjusting things.
'Otherwise...'
He wouldn't have caused such a commotion at the banquet hosted by the eldest son of the Gode Rihe family.
Gerard's provocation wasn't truly meant to reveal the identity of the 'Black Knight', probably just a surface reason.
'It was because he saw Yulian as his competition.'
Whether the Archbishop favored Yulian or not, if the "Black Knight" had any connection, his thick trust might crack, even slightly.
Gerard's gamble succeeded.
Yet, Yulian mingled naturally with them while simultaneously planning to gain the favor of the "eldest son" of the Gode Rihe family.
In the brief moment when Gerard appeared and provoked—"That man must have planned as far as this."
It was thoroughly calculated.
It wasn't a spontaneous action, she was sure of it.
"My words shouldn't have been difficult to understand. Miss Di.a.na, you haven't said anything."
"It's because it's too absurd."
"Is that so? Huhut."
"There are too many eyes around. How about we change locations?"
Saying so, Eleanor brushed her hair back, revealing a tear mole under her eye that subtly showcased its assertive presence between her strands of hair.
A blessing yet a curse that easily captivated rational minds.
Though it activated naturally as a habitual action, Yulian's expression remained unchanged.
'As I thought...'
Though she wasn't completely unaware, Eleanor found herself clicking her tongue and feeling curious.
'Why did he seek me out at this particular moment, and time?'
Why specifically when Eleanor was holding a "civilian" status?
What was Yulian's reason for seeking her out?
***
As Eleanor moved to a secluded area, she turned her head slightly to look at Yulian following behind her.
― It's not me asking you for a favor, but you asking me.
His most enigmatic statement.
'... I guess I'll understand once I hear.'
Once she reached a spot where no one was around, Eleanor turned to face Yulian.
"This place should suffice. Sir Yulian, what is this favor I supposedly asked for?"
"... Miss Eleanor."
Pausing momentarily before speaking—a tactic she herself often used on others.
A conversational technique to gain the upper hand.
Though she felt responding might lead to being swayed, she needed to hear the content, so Eleanor sighed and reluctantly answered.
"Haaa, yes."
"Perhaps... Are you considering reclaiming your family's 'original position'?"
Her previously erect posture slowly turned to face Yulian.
Though her expression barely changed, Eleanor could keenly sense the mix of emotions on her face.
'How does he know?'
A sense of being taken aback.
When was the last time she had felt such emotion?
"... What exactly are you trying to say?"
"Exactly as I said."
The subtle smile on Yulian's face made Eleanor feel a slight slip in her own thoughts.
'He hasn't stated his real purpose yet; I'm just presuming.'
Keeping her expression composed, Eleanor continued speaking.
"Hmmm, I don't know what you mean. As you know, our family has a long-standing history in the Empire..."
She must not show interest.
If Yulian picked up on that, it would be easy for him to steer the conversation, irrespective of his actual intentions.
"Oh dear, perhaps I was too indirect in my words. Let me be 'direct'. The Archbishop position..."
Seeing Eleanor's cheek twitch at his words, Yulian decisively drove his point home.
"... Isn't it tempting?"
Taken aback by Yulian's words, she began to consider various scenarios that might unfold from their conversation.
"The Archbishop position... doesn't seem to suit me. What about you, Sir Yulian? You seem more fitting for the Archbishop position..."
She needed to uncover his true intentions.
"I am content living as the 'Imperial Hound'. It is not permitted for a 'dog' to bite its master. Heh, but wouldn't the 'position' be special for Miss Eleanor's family?"
In the midst of lightly probing intentions, hearing the word "family" forced Eleanor to draw her metaphorical sword first.
"So, are you saying you'd turn against Sir Tenelon?"
"It seems my words gave that impression."
"Because that's what you said."
Eleanor spoke, watching for any change in Yulian's expression. His face remained unchanged, as if wearing a mask.
"Wasn't joining our cause, Sir Yulian, to gain power?"
Though its color may have faded, Yulian was capable of unspeakable acts to overcome his master.
What benefit did he gain by opposing Tenelon?
"Yes, does that pose a problem?"
"If that's the case, wouldn't it suffice to continue as you have been? Sir Tenelon has a favorable impression of you, and with time, you would receive fitting rewards..."
"Heh."
Yulian's short laugh made Eleanor slightly furrow her brow.
"... What's so funny?"
"It seems you misunderstand my words, miss Eleanor."
Yulian walked over and snapped a twig.
"I don't prefer words like 'turn against' or 'rebellion'. For reasons you surely understand. Nor am I suggesting overthrowing the inner hierarchy of the Dawn Society to seize that 'position'."
Though annoyed by his sly attitude, Eleanor struggled to maintain her composure.
"Even as Miss Eleanor, favored by Sir Tenelon, it seems you're still unaware. Sir Tenelon plans to ascend to the long-vacant 'High Pontiff' position of the Dawn Society."
"... The High Pontiff?"
"Yes."
Seeing Yulian's indifferent demeanor, Eleanor discreetly bit her lip.
The position of High Pontiff in the Dawn Society greatly differed from other ecclesiastical organizations.
Until now, the only person to reach such a position was the founder of the Dawn Society, Olent D'Micelle—Eleanor's father.
"Though the position doesn't hold particular meaning to me..."
Despite the slight irritation, curiosity sparked within her.
'How does he know?'
"Your expression doesn't look good. Is something wrong?"
"No, not at all! Sir Tenelon might think it's the right time."
"Yes, that's correct. Though slightly early, it can be seen as a move to strengthen the Dawn Society's unity."
"Unity indeed."
Mulling over the sourness lingering on her lips, Eleanor considered Tenelon's intentions.
'... Could this be why he recalled members from other branches back to the capital?'
In fact, Eleanor had sensed movements within other branches.
Those were individuals intending to wrest control of the Dawn Society from Tenelon.
Tenelon's power within the Dawn Society wasn't rooted in him as a person but in the relic, the 'Demon God's Chalice'.
"If someone emerged capable of wielding the Demon God's Chalice, those dissatisfied with Tenelon would surely rise."
By deciding to formally succeed the position of 'High Pontiff', Tenelon may be attempting to concentrate the Dawn Society's power within the capital.
Within the capital, where many hidden agents of the Dawn Society reside, any dissidents could be swiftly handled.
"Does the proposal seem unappealing to you?"
Yulian's voice suddenly pierced through Eleanor's reflective thoughts.
If Tenelon became the 'High Pontiff', logically, the position of 'Archbishop' overseeing Bishops and Monsignors would be vacant.
There was no denying its appeal.
'So that's what he meant.'
The statement concerning who actually requested whom.
It all made sense now.
Creak.
Once more, a sound of snapping leaves emanated from Yulian's fingertips.
'But... where did he gather this information from?'
Suddenly, a question emerged.
How did he possess so much knowledge, and why was he privy to it?
Even if I asked, this man...
'He would never give a straightforward answer.'
"If, as Sir Yulian implies, the Archbishop position becomes vacant and one of the Bishops fills the role..."
In that case, the course of action became clear.
"I can understand now why your words implied I would ask you."
Yulian turned his gaze to Eleanor.
"So what will you do now? The astute Miss Eleanor wouldn't miss such an excellent opportunity, would she?"
His face bore a genuinely satisfied expression.
It felt akin to forging a deal with the devil.
"Very well! I formally 'request' it then. Assist me in becoming the Archbishop."
"A wise decision. Huhu."
As Yulian said those words, Eleanor's eyes suddenly landed on his hand, which had been fiddling with the leaves.
"... Huh?"
Fragments of crushed leaves clung to his fingers slightly.
If it were the usual 'Yulian', his hands would be dry.
Always prepared to wield a sword, readiness was paramount.
A swordsman's hands must always be clean or else, in wielding a blade, he risks his life should it slip.
Returning to the topic, the adherence indicated moisture on his hands, which suggested—
'He's nervous? The great Yulian?'
Why possibly so?
Though she might not have known, as one practicing dark magic, she couldn't be deceived.
Being particularly sensitive to 'emotions'.
Eleanor glanced at Yulian's expression with a hint of doubt.
Like usual, the slit-eyed man wore a half-moon smile, his lips holding a gentle smile.
To her, it seemed as though it was a sneer.
"Surely, it can't be..."
Clacky's Corner:
What is Yulian's plan?