Grgrgrk.

A much louder sound than all the previously heard sounds emerged from within Hemoria’s mask. Her eyes had transformed into a much deeper shade of red than they had been at first; rather than just bloodshot, it felt as if something was burning within them.

Unlike Hemoria, who was exhibiting intense emotions, Atarax’s expression was calm. He smiled as he looked between the Holy Sword, plunged into the ground, and Eugene, standing there with his arms crossed.

“... ‘Pretends to be faithful’ you say…. Haha! Sir Eugene, you might be the only person who would dare to say such a thing to an Inquisitor of the Maleficarum,” Atarax said with calm amazement.

Eugene shot back, “I’m also the only one to be recognized by the Holy Sword as its master.”

Atarax tried to defend himself, “I’m only trying to consider all the possibilities.”

“Weren’t you the one saying earlier that there was no way that I, the master of the Holy Sword, would be corrupted by black magic?” Eugene reminded him.

“Allowing Hector to escape is a different matter from being corrupted by black magic,” Atarax argued.

“If we keep going back and forth like this, it will never end. Are you trying to somehow force me into making a confession?” Eugene asked with a smirk as he glared at Atarax. “It feels to me like you think that you’ve bitten onto the tail of a large catch, and now you’re racing ahead of yourself to reel it in.”

“There’s no way that could be the case,” Atarax denied the accusation as he backed down with a shrug. “For now, I’ll just choose to accept it. I will do my best to have faith that Hector Lionheart’s escape… truly had nothing to do with you, Sir Eugene. In fact, if you want to prove your innocence for certain, there is—”

“You want to use Confession[1] on me, right?” Eugene interrupted.

“Were you already aware of it?”

“All I know is that it’s a cruel method of interrogation that tears the victim’s...