"Everything is normal, Lord John."
The flame-formed face spoke in a dull, muffled voice. Its tone carried not the slightest ripple of emotion, and even its honorific toward John felt purely symbolic.
"Everything is normal?"
John laughed in anger.
"You're telling me everything is normal? You said earlier that York and Old Chui-de were returning in secret to maintain confidentiality, and that they had only just left Chui-de City.
But what about now?
Chui-de City has been gone for half a month already, and you're still telling me they only left yesterday?
Do you really think I'm that easy to fool?
Yorkson, don't think that joining the Eye of Judgment means you're no longer a member of the Remedy Family.
Let me tell you this: if you are a member of the Remedy Family for one day, then you are a member for life."
"Heh."
Yorkson sneered.
"John, don't try to pressure me with the family name. I'm not like you—some useless waste who survives only because of family support.
I became the intelligence director of the Eye of Judgment in the Southern Continent through a hundred years of struggle. No one understands the Southern Continent better than I do."
Yorkson spoke boldly, but far away in the imperial capital of the Magic Empire, panic had already begun to rise in his heart.
He hadn't expected such a massive oversight from his subordinates. York and Old Chui-de—who were supposed to be under constant surveillance by Eye of Judgment agents—were no longer even in Chui-de City.
Such a catastrophic work failure was something he had never encountered in his entire century of service.
What stung even more was hearing, once again, the mockery of that most incompatible person of all—a direct-line member of the Remedy Family.
"It seems your Eye of Judgment no longer has any reason to exist."
John's voice was cold.
"I will report this matter to His Holiness the Pope. You can wait to be summoned to the Tribunal of Holy Judgment."
As he spoke, John casually swept his hand.
A terrifying surge of magic power crushed forward, shattering the flame-face within the hearth into countless sparks.
The sparks burned fiercely in midair, then turned into black ash that drifted down—
Only to be drawn back into the fireplace under the control of an overwhelming spiritual force.
Once the crackling sound of fire returned, the room fell back into silence.
But beneath that calm lay the darkness of John's expression.
After a long while, he finally spoke in a low voice:
"Bishop Franz. Send people to verify this personally. Remember—I need to know the truth of this matter as soon as possible."
Then he turned to look at Old Chui-de.
His gloomy gaze seemed to pierce straight through the old man. After a moment, he said coldly:
"The Healing Witch will remain with you for now.
But remember—if anything happens to the Healing Witch…
Not only you, but your family, your nation—will all be buried with you."
John's tone was calm, as though he were merely stating a fact.
But to Old Chui-de, the words sent a chill down his spine.
He didn't care about his family or his country in the slightest, but he had absolutely no desire to experience John's methods firsthand.
He had heard of this young professor from the Holy See. Before becoming head of the Death-Witch Response Division at the Holy See's Divine Academy, John had worked in the Tribunal—
And not just anywhere, but in the infamous Interrogation Department.
Even among the noble circles of the Southern Continent, it was a name that could make children cry at night.
It was said that anyone who entered that place—even if they weren't a psychopath before—would come out as one afterward.
So he truly did not want to fall into John's hands.
John's warning was enough to jolt him awake from the pride of having become a Saint-tier powerhouse.
He hurriedly lowered his head.
"Yes, Lord John."
John stared at him silently for a moment longer before saying coldly:
"Good. Leave. And do not leave the church these next few days."
"Yes, Lord John."
After Old Chui-de departed, John turned his gaze toward Bishop Franz.
This bishop, responsible for all church affairs within the Kingdom of Savant, was also a disciple of the Remedy Family.
"Bishop Franz," John said, "if I remember correctly, you graduated in the year 92950, didn't you?"
"Yes, Lord John."
Franz's tone was faintly ingratiating.
"I was a student in the Divine Academy's Department of Faith Propagation. My mentor was Lord Damian Remedy—your uncle."
The Holy See was a nation controlled by families, financial powers, and academic factions.
And the Remedy Family was one of the greatest academic dynasties within it.
They nearly monopolized one-fifth of the students in the Divine Academy.
"I see."
John's tone softened slightly.
"So you were Uncle Damian's student. I visited him not long ago.
He even mentioned that several of his outstanding students had gone to develop themselves in the Southern Continent."
John patted Franz's shoulder and leaned closer, staring directly into his eyes as he spoke evenly:
"Since you are my uncle's student, then you are one of our own in the Remedy Family.
I…"
The corner of his mouth curled into an eerie arc.
"…can trust you, can't I?"
At the same time, the hand gripping Franz's tightened unconsciously.
It felt as though if Franz could not give a satisfactory answer, he would not be walking out of this room alive.
"T-That is only natural."
Under the crushing pressure of John's presence, sweat began to bead at Franz's temples.
His voice trembled, but his answer was earnest.
He feared that even the slightest hesitation might cost him his life.
John continued to stare into his eyes for a long time before finally stepping back and releasing his shoulder.
He returned to his seat, his tone much calmer.
"Good. Then I have something I need you to do."
"Please give your order, Lord John."
Franz immediately bent forward, adopting the humble posture of a subordinate awaiting command.
"The task is simple," John said.
"Spread the news that the Healing Witch is currently in Old Chui-de's possession.
Remember—do it cleanly. Do not let anyone realize that this information was deliberately leaked by us."
"This…"
Franz's pupils contracted sharply.
Instinctively, he wanted to raise his head and ask why.
Why would John make such an unwise decision?
As the most crucial element in saving the entire Southern Continent, shouldn't the Healing Witch's whereabouts be kept under the strictest secrecy?
But when he met John's bone-chilling gaze, he swallowed the question and nodded obediently.
"As you command, Lord John."
"Good. Leave."
John spoke indifferently.
Franz, receiving dismissal, fled the room as though granted a reprieve from execution.
Only after stepping outside did he realize in shock—
At some point, his back had already been soaked through with sweat.
His damp clothes clung tightly to his skin. When the cold wind hit, he shuddered violently.
He didn't dare say another word.
He simply left.