DNCTFB 22

Episode 22

At first, Onello answered with smug calm. But then, without another word, he turned away and began struggling into his protective gear.

The sight might’ve been comical—had it not been so revealing. He tugged at worn-out armour with fumbling hands, slipping on a battered helmet that clanked and shifted with every step. Melody didn’t miss it. The budget for better equipment had likely ended up in Onello’s pocket.

“Ready?” he called, turning back toward her with a proud grin.

He strode over to a corner of the workshop, where a training dummy stood, and aimed his crossbow with exaggerated confidence.

“Destroy everything in front of you!” he declared.

The spell words left his mouth with theatrical flair. The crossbow quivered in his grip, then fired.

The arrow soared—straight and fast—until it veered.

In an instant, it twisted in the air and changed direction, as if possessed. Gasps erupted across the workshop. Before Onello could even blink, the arrow tore through the very crossbow he held, shattering its body—and drove itself deep into his shoulder.

“Aaaargh!”

His scream echoed through the room, followed by shrieks and cries from the other artisans.

“Get a priest! Quickly!”

Winnie ran off in a panic. Melody, meanwhile, bent to collect the fragments of the broken crossbow, her expression flat.

She had expected this.

Onello had engraved a spell that targeted sources of magical power—ma-haks. His bolt had aimed for the dummy’s core at first… But when it sensed a stronger magical source within the crossbow itself, it redirected.

She stared at the ruined weapon in her hand. If Deonis had used it…

It could have pierced his heart.

A heavy voice rang out from the temple corridor.

“What is this chaos?”

A priest appeared, white robes billowing as he approached. His face tightened when he saw Onello writhing, bleeding.

“I see. That wound is severe—at least a week’s healing.
Without full treatment, he may lose function in his hand.”

“Please… heal me,” Onello begged, eyes wild.

The priest didn’t blink. “That will require a donation.”

Onello’s trembling fingers pointed toward his belt. The priest calmly retrieved four gold coins and ten silver from his pouch, tucked them into his own robes, then held his hands above the wound.

White light bloomed, sacred and soft.

“It will take two days,” the priest said.

“Th-thank you…”

But the moment the arrow was removed, the light stopped.

The priest’s brow furrowed. He examined the arrow.

“…A crossbow bolt? Do you not know that creating lethal tools is forbidden within the temple?”

Onello’s face went pale.

“It was… for monster hunting…”

“The temple does not hunt monsters,” the priest snapped. “Lying again? This treatment is over. I will not waste the goddess’s light on betrayal.”

“I was making it for the Duke…!”

“Using temple supplies for a noble’s sake?” The priest’s voice grew colder. “This gets worse by the second.”

He turned. “The Holy Knights must be informed.”

“No, please—please! Just this once—”

Onello fell to his knees, clutching the priest’s sleeve, sobbing. But the priest stared down at him with the calm chill of marble.

“I will not betray the goddess.”

A deep voice echoed from the marble columns.

“What is the matter here?”

A man stepped into view—sunlight seeming to follow him.

He was tall, his golden hair catching the light like polished metal. His armour glowed with holy energy. His eyes, purple as twilight, swept across the room. It was a face that seemed carved from sacred stone.

Melody froze.

That was Awhin Baldwin.

One of the three main male leads of the novel—leader of the Holy Knights.

The “Goddess’s Dog”.

Once, he had been a man of unwavering faith. Then came the heroine, and his faith turned to torment, his desire to sin.
He punished himself in a never-ending loop of guilt and longing.

And now—he was standing ten feet from her.

Melody held her breath. Of all the people in the story, Awhin was the last she wanted to meet. Unlike Deonis, who kept his distance, Awhin’s entire job was capturing rogue mages. He was dangerous. Especially to her father.

“This is good timing,” the priest said, bowing slightly. “There’s been an accident. We discovered a forbidden weapon.”

Awhin’s gaze shifted—to the crossbow in Melody’s hands.

His violet eyes lingered on her face. A flicker of something passed through them.

Then Onello shrieked, “It wasn’t me—it was him! That one! He made it!”

He pointed to a nervous young apprentice, who looked ready to faint.

“I-I just did what Onello told me! I swear!”

The priest held up the crossbow, frowning. “This weapon has a name carved into the side—Onello Raewood. That is yours, isn’t it?”

Onello’s face drained of blood.

“I… it was a mistake! Please… mercy…”

Awhin’s voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to.

“A mistake is made in a moment. This weapon took at least a week. That is no mistake.”

“I’m a noble…!”

“Then your punishment will match your status.”

He nodded—and Holy Knights stepped forward to seize Onello by the arms.

“No—wait! Please, no—!”

They dragged him out, still screaming.

Winnie let out a stunned breath beside Melody.

“Wasn’t expecting that,” she whispered.

Neither was Melody. She’d only hoped to get him in trouble. She hadn’t expected this fast—or this severe. Onello wouldn’t see daylight for years.

“I should go,” she murmured.

But before she could slip away, a shadow blocked her path.

Awhin Baldwin stood before her.

“Are you Melody Riuud? The one who maintains the non-lethal tools?”

Winnie’s voice came from behind him, almost gleeful.

“There he is! He’s the guy who kept asking for you!”

“He’s my deputy,” Awhin said without turning. “He’s looked for you many times.”

Melody swallowed hard. So he was the one asking around.

“I’d like to speak,” he said. “About one of your tools.”

She didn’t want to talk. But her curiosity burnt too hot.

She nodded.

“Not long ago, the polishing tools began working… differently. I investigated. And I found a pattern. Every time it happened… it was on the day you were responsible.”