Chapter 357: 357 Article 356. "Here's the bloodline."

Even though it was snowing to death, the room felt a little warm with the fire lit. Sweat was trickling down my neck, probably because I was wearing heavy clothes.

I finally took off my cloak in the private room of Philos, the city I was assigned to. There was a slight chill in the air, but it was still more comfortable here.

In the midst of this, Kalia said, using my room as if it were her own, as if it were a matter of course.

But you've made a big show of it, haven't you? But you've made a big show of it. You're going to be the leader in defeating the hexenbiest disaster.

I'm sure you didn't think of that," Kalia continued, her silver hair bouncing. At his side, Fialaat narrowed his dark eyes as if nodding to Kalia's words.

That's rude. It's as if I've made some moves without thinking. I've always done a bit of thinking.

Though I'm sure it rarely all works out.

Now, I'm slightly twisting my thoughts, wondering how to put into words what's in my head. And then...

The door is opened lightly without knocking. The person who emerged from the door was looking at me with piercing white eyes.

Philos-Treit. The former ruler of the puppet city of Philos, and one of the current allies of the heraldry.

It's not unusual for her to visit my room, but this was the first time she'd been so rough.

I remembered that she said she had some business with me. But to be visited so hastily...

Give me a break. If she could at least bring me a new barrel of wine, I'd welcome it.

As if to stomp on my thoughts, Philos steps into the room with his servants. He glanced at Kalia and Fialaat, but returned his gaze to me without interest.

Then he says, with a great deal of pouting.

"...... You set me up. Lugis-Vliriganth. What did you tell the Lords?

His relatively small frame trembles greatly, his shadow shimmering. It's as if he's anguishing over how to let out the emotions he's stored in the depths of his gut.

As she stared at me closely, I could clearly see that she let out a hot exhalation.

I see, I see. What was she trying to say, what was she thinking when she came to me? That's when I understood.

--Perhaps it was about me sending a letter to my lords under her real name. And without informing her of any of it.

Philos, after all, is not very good at blaming others. In fact, he is the kind of person who, even after something has happened, still holds himself responsible for everything.

At least, when the city of Philos was about to be overrun by the demon Roseau. She never spoke a word of bitterness until the very end. She is undoubtedly a person of noble grace.

So if she's glaring at me with such hatred, then there's only one reason for it. It's probably when you've been unjustly tricked.

I'm not sure what you're talking about. His cheeks rippled, and he took a chewing tobacco from his pocket.

I know a few things. What, did the lords send you a gift, Philos?

"What, a gift from the lords, Philos?" he said, holding the tobacco to his lips. He met the spear-like gaze of the white eyes head on. It's frightening to think that he once glared at an entire city with this gaze.

Philos's neck and shoulders tense, his cheeks twitching, and yet his voice hushed as he gives instructions to his servants. The servants' movements were somewhat awkward, as if they were somewhat affected by her anger.

One thing the servant was instructed to do was to carry the bundles of parchment into the room. One after another, they were placed on the table, forming a small pile.

I see, this is...

"This is it. This is what your letter made up for me. Do you have an excuse?

After a beat, he turns his gaze from the pile of parchment to Philos and says.

"Excuses are for people who have a guilty conscience, aren't they?

At my words, I saw the expression on his face grow more grim.

How dare he say such a thing so arrogantly, I thought to myself. How dare you drag her to the point of no return and then tell her that you have no guilt? It's the kind of arrogance that makes me want to strangle myself.

Fialaert says a few words to Philos, and then looks at the parchment. Then he twisted his eyes quizzically, and opened his lips.

Fialaert said to Philos, "That's a strange and thoughtful way to put it for a nobleman. I'm not sure what you mean by that.

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What does this mean, Lugis?" The dark hair on his head asks, stroking the hollow.

What should I say? No, at this point, it's more important to know what Philos himself is thinking.

Does he have it all figured out and is he questioning me? Or is he not there yet?

Philos will need to wield her slender arm a great deal in the future.

But if she's not willing to do that, then it all starts over again. Therefore, we should question her true intentions.

I was almost sent a messenger to greet you--you must have told the lords something. Rougis-Vliriganth.

Philos said angrily as he sent the messengers back.

She's angry because she's been taken advantage of. She's a proud person. She's a proud person, and if she's been pushed around and treated like a tool by me, she has every right to feel that way.

Yeah, but you're right. Doesn't she know? She doesn't know what this bundle of parchment represents.

No, maybe she has some inkling. But the truth is too far away to be covered by such a thick cloth. It's hard to imagine.

Normal people, normal people, wouldn't even imagine it. Well, it's still easier to say I told the lords something.

But no. Things are already in motion. Whether we want it to or not.

She can't be the only one who knows nothing and can't be told nothing. That's not gonna happen.

The curtain is going up.

I took the cigarette from my lips and said.

No, I'm not saying anything. They're just honoring the letter that was sent. A letter from you.

How am I supposed to put words in the mouths of noble lords, he continued. Philos's expression tightened for a moment, but he did not hide his sharp gaze.

He continued to speak to him.

"A long time ago. A long time ago, a nobleman of a good age fell in love with his mistress and had a child with her.

That's ridiculous. It's right for a nobleman to have many heirs, but for him, it's an undeniable source of strife. A person who is in charge of a country should not create a factor that could divide the country.

Not even with his mistress.

He should have beheaded the bastard as soon as possible. That is a kind of calm judgment. Sometimes people kill the small in order to keep the big alive. A ruler of a nation must be able to do so.

But he couldn't do that. Was it out of love for his child? I don't know if it was out of love for his child or out of martyrdom for the teachings of the Great Saints. But as a result, the child survived.

But I can't keep him around just because I won't kill him. That would be a clear source of mayhem. That's unacceptable at any rate.

So the child was given up for adoption to a local nobleman. The noble family probably had little knowledge of the situation. They may have known that the child was the illegitimate son of a nobleman.

In any case, I don't know the details of the situation. All I know is cause and effect. I chewed on them slowly, and composed my words.

"Who do you think this noble man is? "Who do you think that noble man is?" "He's nobler than anyone else, and he's got more precious blood than anyone else.

When I ask this, Philos twitches and says.

"...... What are you trying to say? Are you trying to make fun of my origins?

I could see the whites of Philos' eyes beginning to pale, not with rage. Suspicion, curiosity, and confusion. A mixture of suspicion, curiosity and confusion colored her face.

It can't be. First of all, I was born in a ditch, how can I make fun of anyone's birth? I'm just telling you the truth. Listen, Philos. The nobleman who sent you the letter believes in this.

He said, holding the whites of his eyes straight up. His eyes are filled with emotions I've never seen before, and they're about to overflow.

He slowly opens his lips.

"Amelites-Gerleist. That's your father, and you're a concubine princess. That's what they believe. And they'll work hard to make it true.

A moment later, I saw Philos raise his hand in the air.

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