The door closest to the Noble’s Gate came into view. We turned the corner to head to the High Priest’s room, only to see the High Bishop’s party blocking the hallway; we had intended to avoid them, but they had seen us and backtracked to get here first.
“Count Bindewald, that is the blue apprentice shrine maiden, Myne,” the High Bishop said with a nasty grin and a finger pointed at me. Bindewald’s lips twisted into a frog-like smile as he looked me over from head to toe.
“Ohoho, I see...”
His disgusting gaze sent goosebumps all over my skin, and I subconsciously squeezed Dad tighter. I honestly deserved praise for holding back my urge to shout “Don’t look at me!”
“Hmm. We were told she had left, but here she returns to her guardians. I suppose they failed, then. Useless fools,” Bindewald muttered in a frustrated tone before extending a hand my way. “Myne, I shall grace you with a contract.”
“...I respectfully refuse. I am already promised to someone.”
“Hmph. You may be in his custody, but I imagine you’ve signed no contract. All I need to do is get your blood on one first.” The toad let out a disturbing cackle, and his stomach bounced as he took a step forward.
“Are you going to adopt Sister Myne too, Count Bindewald?” Delia, stepping out from behind the High Bishop with Dirk in her arms, spoke in a bright tone ill befitting the situation. “How wonderful, she and Dirk will be one big happy family. They’ll both be graced with the blessings of the nobility.”
The toad snorted derisively at Delia’s words. “Me? Adopt a filthy commoner? Never.”
“But sir, you already adopted Dirk.”
“I did not adopt him. What I have with that baby is a submission contract.” The count cackled and took out what looked like a proper adoption contract, but across its title one could see there were two layers of parchment. A broad smile spread across his face, he peeled off the front layer to reveal the text beneath: Submission Contract for a Devouring Child.
“What? Does that mean... Dirk will...”
“He will be kept as a slave for the rest of his life and used as a living source of mana to charge magic tools for Bindewald,” I said.
Delia squeezed Dirk tighter and shook her head in fear before desperately looking at the High Bishop. “That can’t be true! Sh-She’s lying, isn’t she, High Bishop? You said Dirk and I would be staying together, didn’t you?”
“Fear not, Delia. The baby’s mana will be used for our sake, but he will be raised here in the temple. He will not be taken from you,” the High Bishop said in a gentle tone, his face that of a kindly grandfather. “This is merely a trade. I will keep that baby, and in return Myne will leave the temple.”
Delia paled, looking between Dirk and I. “Sister Myne will leave the temple in Dirk’s stead...?” she murmured in disbelief.
Then, a fat belly blocked her from view. “This is your submission contract. Sign it. You have made me lose many of my pawns, both today and in the spring. You will be filling the hole left by them yourself.”
The count took a step forward, and we all took a step back. The door to the High Priest’s room—and perhaps our only hope of being rescued—was behind them.
“High Priest...” I whispered.
The High Bishop smirked. “Unfortunately, your guardian, the High Priest, is absent. No cavalry will be coming to your aid. Give up already, so that I never have to set my eyes on you again.” He turned to look at the toad standing a few steps in front of him. “Count Bindewald, with both the archduke and the High Priest gone, this is our best opportunity—you may take Myne and I will pretend I saw nothing. Capture her and leave the city as soon as you can.”
At those words, the tension in the air grew thick. Dad carefully set me down, took one step forward, and readied his spear. Damuel readied his weapon as well, clenching his teeth in preparation of facing a noble more powerful and of a higher status than him. Even Fran took out a dagger from the pouch on his hip.
“...You can kill everyone but the girl. Get her.” On the frog’s command, three men from their group stepped forward. They all carried themselves like the man Dad had killed, and they were like living examples of what happened to people with the Devouring who signed with nobles.
“Apprentice, get back!” Damuel blocked two of the men who jumped at us while Dad and Fran handled the other one. The count’s personal soldiers weren’t as capable as Damuel, a formally trained knight; it took them longer to build up mana for simple attacks and they weren’t able to fight as well as him. But taking on two people at once was still difficult, and while Damuel was just barely managing, one wrong move could cost him his life.
Dad and Fran seemed like they should have been able to dominate the other guy, but since they had no defense against mana, it wasn’t as simple as that. Dad would have won in no time had it just been a sword fight, but there was nothing a commoner could do when attacked with mana. The man’s ring lit up, and just as a beam was shot toward Dad and Fran, Damuel whipped out his wand and swung. A sharp noise like the clash of metal rang out as mana deflected
