The 10th-Ranked Purifier
A 10th-rank purifier. That could only mean Irene.
“She wasn’t someone who skimped on spending, was she? I remember her eating stale bread day after day just to stretch it out… But when she left that room, not a single crumb remained on her plate.”
As she spoke, the maid clicked her tongue with genuine sympathy.
“The last time I tried to share the leftover bread with her out of pity, she ate it with such delight.”
The maid’s words sent a sharp pang through Michael’s heart.
The countess had been so tight with her resources to meet the baron’s demanded price that she possessed nothing that could truly be called hers.
Naturally she hadn’t had enough to share meals freely… yet she had still been willing to give bread to the maid.
‘In that case, she would have gone straight to the temple.’
Every time her sacrifice weighed on his chest, Michael bitterly regretted the small pile of ashes that now remained.
Why hadn’t she told him?
If she had been in such dire straits, why hadn’t she simply asked him for a loan?
The thought had barely formed when a memory from the past flashed across his mind.
Once, when he and Irene had gone into a dungeon, a man living in a village near the fortress had grabbed him and begged.
“Michael, sir! My wife has collapsed from illness and my children are starving. Please help my family. Please…”
The villagers around them clicked their tongues in pity. The man’s kneeling posture was so desperate it was almost painful to watch.
But Michael saw everything clearly.
The man’s skin looked too healthy for someone whose family was starving.
His clothes were too clean and well cared for, as if he hadn’t been running a household alone.
And every time he opened his mouth, a faint scent of expensive liquor drifted out.
He had seen such people many times before, so Michael had coldly ordered him to the temple and turned away.
At that moment, Irene, standing behind him, had met his gaze.
She had stared at him in a daze for a moment, then looked away.
That memory was burned into his mind forever.
Now he understood why she had been so shaken.
During the conversation that followed, the maids kept talking.
“They say she used her summer blanket until it was nothing but rags.”
“I don’t know about that. Anyway, I’m glad we found this one. The princess’s room was already raided by the senior maids before we could reach it.”
The moment Cecilia’s name was mentioned, another maid nodded.
“Exactly. If it had been the princess, she would have gone straight home the moment the extermination period ended. But she stayed longer this time. We thought she might have had business with the Kingdom Alliance, but she left in such a hurry.”
Ever since she had arrived at the fortress, the princess had upgraded everything every year.
That meant she had thrown out all the furniture and furnishings before leaving.
That was why the maids at the fortress had wanted to serve in the princess’s quarters.
After the princess left, they would be able to take whatever remained.
After the princess departed, the maids had always been full of festival-like excitement.
But this year it was even stronger.
“Thanks to her sudden departure, she left far more things behind than usual. She basically just took herself away. I wonder why she was in such a rush…”
The maid smiled as she remembered the few decorative items she had taken.
Another maid clicked her tongue.
“I’m guessing she felt guilty toward the dead and left in a panic.”
“Guilty toward the dead? Who?”
“The dead purifier. The owner of that blanket.”
The words struck Michael like lightning. He swallowed hard.
“Why is the princess sorry for that woman?”
“That’s what I was wondering myself…”
The maid holding the blanket glanced around, then lowered her voice to a whisper.
“Another maid told me. The dead purifier had been looking for Michael, sir. She said the princess went into the dungeon to check something. She entered without verifying anything and died there.”
“What?”
“Even if the princess didn’t know, the fact that she said it out loud means she must have felt it was too dangerous to stay here. Anyway, it’s none of our business. We should go check the princess’s room again…”
Just as the maid was about to suggest they look through the princess’s room for more things, a pair of iron hands clamped onto her shoulder with terrifying force.
She spun around in shock.
“Repeat that.”
“M-Michael, sir?”
“Say it again! What did the princess say to Irene! Now!”
This man, who had always been polite regardless of rank, who had never raised his voice even when insulting the temple…
He was now shouting with an aura that seemed ready to tear someone apart at any moment.
The maids shrank back in terror and could not lift their heads.
“T-That’s…”
The maids trembled as they told him everything they had heard.
That the morning after Irene’s death, she had gone around asking everyone where Michael was.
That Cecilia had told her Michael was still cleaning out the remaining dungeon.
And that Irene had then gone toward that dungeon.
That night, Michael sat in a corner of the fortress, gently stroking the blanket he had taken from the maid.
What should I do from now on?
The only dream he had ever wanted had turned into a handful of ashes beside him today.
So he no longer wanted to do anything.
He could simply sit here and wait for death…
But he lifted his head. He looked at the night sky in the far distance—exactly the direction of the Visconti Kingdom.
Visconti. The kingdom of Princess Cecilia.
Should he go there right now, grab the woman by the throat, and demand to know what had happened?
But Michael pushed the thought away.
She was a snake. She would lie without hesitation if it served her interests and sacrifice others without a second thought.
That was why he had instinctively disliked her.
But if he went to find Cecilia now and questioned her under threat… would she tell the truth?
‘No way.’
She would deny everything to the end, claiming she knew nothing.
Even if he threatened her with her life, she would not speak the truth.
But he wanted to know exactly what had happened.
‘If you’re going to deal with a snake, you have to become one.’
In the darkness, his blue eyes glowed dangerously.
The next day, Michael gathered every single thing Irene had used, cradling her urn of ashes in his arms as he left the fortress.
His steps headed straight toward the Visconti Kingdom.
And one month later.
The news spread across the continent that every royal family member of the Visconti Kingdom—including Princess Cecilia—had been brutally massacred in the royal palace.
A moment ago, Irene had still been drowsy and half-asleep.
“I’m sorry… I…”
Because of the sight of Michael sobbing in such pain, Irene’s drowsiness vanished in an instant.
“Michael? What’s wrong? Are you all right?”
She sat up in alarm and examined him, but Michael was still shedding tears.
“Why are you crying?”
When he couldn’t understand why, he swallowed hard, trying to calm his violent emotions, and answered in a voice thick with grief.
“It is because… I have made the mistake of leaving you alone.”
Irene was stunned.
She had been alone when she faced fake Wilhelmina, but that didn’t mean it was his fault.
“What kind of thing is that… Anyway, it wasn’t your fault. Stop crying, okay?”
First, she needed to calm this grown man who was sobbing.
She had never comforted an adult man who was crying before, and she had never even held one.
She hesitated for a moment, then, as if lost in thought, she opened her arms and pulled Michael’s head into her lap.
Then she lightly kissed his forehead as if to tell him to stop.
She had thought this would settle him.
“Irene…”
He, too, wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her chest.
He cried without a sound until her clothes were soaked.
Quietly. And for a very long time.
A while later, Michael released her.
Looking at her thoroughly soaked chest, Irene let out an inner sigh.
Is this man really all right?
He hadn’t been seriously injured, yet he was in this state. The thought that even one cut finger could flip the entire fortress upside down crossed her mind.
But that worry was strangely comforting.
Someone worrying about her pain like this felt strangely delightful, like a tickle on the palm.
Irene rubbed the corner of her mouth that kept rising and then coughed lightly.
“By the way, Michael, I was thinking about something before I fell asleep.”
“What is it?”
Irene said to him with a voice full of certainty.
“I think that monster disguised as Wilhelmina will be easier to deal with than expected.”