After finally surviving the entire cycle of prayers, Seo-jun felt utterly wrecked.
So exhausted that he stopped caring, he slipped into the bushes around the monastery courtyard and hid himself.
Fatigue and disgust churned together in his gut, making him feel nauseous every time he replayed what he'd just endured.
Especially the Archbishop's sermon about the afterlife—about how heaven was easier to reach if one abandoned worldly luxury.
The irony was almost laughable.
The man's robe was made of silk.
One of the most luxurious fabrics there was, imported from Asia and Southern Europe.
"Such a damn hypocrite," Seo-jun muttered, lying back and staring up at the clear sky.
"Throw a chest of gold at him and he bows like a saint… so why do the priests and novices still believe him? Or maybe…"
"…they're just too scared to oppose him."
Before he could finish the thought, hurried footsteps came rushing closer.
Seo-jun's instincts kicked in instantly. He shifted deeper into the bushes, pulling himself farther back.
Just in time.
A boy leapt into the shrubs right in front of him.
Fifteen, maybe sixteen years old.
His clothes were as ragged as a beggar's in the city slums—filthy, worn thin, and the smell… unmistakable.
Like damp socks left on too long.
Seo-jun watched him closely.
The boy was clearly exhausted, gasping for breath before collapsing onto the ground.
In the distance, shouts rang out—holy knights, searching.
Their footsteps echoed through the courtyard.
To the boy, it might as well have been a lullaby.
He fell fast asleep.
Even when Seo-jun poked his cheek with a twig, the boy only twitched, mistaking it for an annoying fly.
"Bold little intruder," Seo-jun whispered.
"What are you looking for here, little rat?"
As Seo-jun turned to grab dry leaves to cover the boy's body—
The boy suddenly woke up.
Seo-jun almost screamed, but reflex took over. He clamped a hand over the boy's mouth.
"Lord Adrian?!"
The boy's eyes went wide. "What are you doing here? Please—don't report me!"
His hands trembled as he begged.
"I'm just looking for my sister. She was taken by the holy knights for making prophecies about the kingdom, my lord… Please. Can you help me?"
Seo-jun froze.
At first, he wanted to refuse outright.
What the boy's sister had done was incredibly dangerous.
Foretelling the future in this era was a mortal sin—enough to be branded a witch or accused of dark sorcery.
But the more he listened, the deeper Seo-jun's frown became.
What the girl had supposedly predicted…
It sounded eerily close to the plot of the history book he remembered.
"Interesting," Seo-jun finally said.
"But I can't promise I'll be able to save her. You understand that, right?"
He looked the boy straight in the eyes.
"Defying the monastery is extremely dangerous—even for nobles. For commoners like you, it's worse. You know that."
The boy let out a long breath and nodded slowly.
He knew.
But he had no other choice.
Suddenly, Seo-jun stood up.
And at that exact moment—
Alaric appeared from the corridor, his face tight with panic as he searched around.
Without a word, Alaric grabbed Seo-jun by the ear and yanked him out of the bushes.
He didn't even notice the other boy frozen inside.
Alaric scolded him nonstop as they walked.
His voice grew hoarse before he finally stopped to catch his breath.
That was when Seo-jun saw his opening.
He lowered his tone, feigning obedience.
"Brother Alaric," he said gently.
"What's behind the door leading to the basement? That hidden door… is it a secret passage, or just a storage room?"
Alaric went silent.
Then—without warning—
Holy water was splashed straight into Seo-jun's face.
Seo-jun flinched, wiping his face while suppressing his irritation.
He needed that information.
"What was that for?"
"I'm fine. Why splash me with holy water again?"
Alaric shook his head, his expression grave.
"Something is wrong with you, Adrian Hanwick."
"What did you eat in those bushes? Alcohol?"
"You're drunk, aren't you? Answer me!"
Seo-jun's patience finally snapped.
He stared straight at Alaric.
"Damn it," he hissed.
"What's wrong with me, huh? I just asked a question!"
Alaric frowned.
"Now this is the Adrian I know," he said. "Earlier you looked like you'd been possessed by some kind soul. Gave me the creeps."
Inside, Seo-jun felt like screaming in pure irritation.
On his face, however, bloomed a wide smile—far too wide for someone barely holding his temper in check.
"That door…" Alaric lowered his voice.
"It leads to the monastery's prison."
He stared straight ahead, clearly making sure no one else was listening.
"It's usually for lost souls. People who spread heretical teachings, ideas that oppose the faith of this kingdom, things like that. Why do you ask?"
Seo-jun nodded lightly.
"Just curious. There are a lot of doors here that lead who knows where. I wanted to understand the place better."
Alaric stepped closer and whispered, his tone far more serious.
"Never go in there, Adrian. If you do something reckless, neither Father nor I will be able to save you."
Before Seo-jun could respond, the Archbishop passed by and greeted them.
Alaric's expression changed instantly—panic, stiffness, and an obvious inability to hide the lie he'd just told.
Seeing that, Seo-jun clicked his tongue internally and stepped in without hesitation.
"Your Eminence, Archbishop Matthias Corwin," he said calmly, his voice respectful and composed.
"I'm pleased to finally meet you in person."
He offered a faint smile.
"There is something I would like to discuss with you—regarding my business ventures. May I ask for a moment of your time… to talk about profits?"
That last word worked faster than any prayer.
The Archbishop's eyes lit up at once.
Wearing a mask of false benevolence, he recited a few verses from scripture before politely asking Alaric for permission to speak with his younger brother.
Alaric, utterly oblivious to what was unfolding, looked positively delighted.
"Of course, Your Eminence," he said sincerely.
"I would be deeply grateful if you could guide my brother toward becoming a better man."
He even gave Seo-jun's arm a gentle nudge.
"Go on, Adrian. Follow His Eminence."
Seo-jun frowned.
"You're being dramatic. He's not that saintly."
They made their way to the Archbishop's study.
The room looked neat, calm, and—at least to an untrained eye—simple.
But to someone raised in luxury like Adrian Hanwick, every detail screamed expense.
Seo-jun's gaze landed on an object atop the desk.
"A fine ashtray," he remarked casually. "Imported jade from Asia, right? Impressive."
The Archbishop flinched almost imperceptibly.
Without thinking, he quickly hid the ashtray and steered the conversation elsewhere—straight to numbers.
That only confirmed Seo-jun's suspicions.
He continued to bait him slowly, savoring the way greed began to surface beneath the man who had so thoroughly brainwashed Alaric.
"Perhaps three thousand gold coins would cover the total payment for this arrangement," Seo-jun said lightly.
"But I would need someone capable of predicting things like weather patterns and natural disasters."
He leaned back in his chair.
"Shipbuilding is risky. Without proper foresight, it could endanger workers—and, of course… the investment."
Seo-jun met the Archbishop's gaze directly.
"If I may ask—do you have any prisoners with such abilities?"
He smiled.
"If so, I'm prepared to raise the offer to three thousand five hundred gold coins—plus a few diamonds."