CHAPTER 37
Let’s assume that someone has magical energy (mana), but is not a mage or a spirit summoner.
That person is either a fool who doesn’t even know they possess mana—or a dark sorcerer.
So, how do you distinguish between a fool and a dark sorcerer?
Here’s the method:
Step 1: Check if the person has mana.
Step 2: If they do, extract their blood.
Step 3: Apply that blood to a holy relic. If the relic turns black, there’s a high chance the person is a dark sorcerer.
The biggest flaw in this method is that the blood of spirit summoners who have contracts with dark spirits—so-called dark spirit summoners—will also cause the relic to react.
Therefore, it’s necessary to verify whether the individual transforms into a beast at specific times.
This is because dark sorcerers possess the unique trait of transforming into the contracted demon’s phantom beast.
But there’s no way for us to know when a dark sorcerer will transform.
Even if they do transform, we can’t always tell whether it’s into a demon’s beast.
Because of this, in the past, anyone whose blood turned a relic black was immediately executed as a dark sorcerer.
At a time when the world was on the brink of destruction, people had no luxury to distinguish between a dark spirit summoner and a dark sorcerer.
This is precisely why dark spirit summoners have disappeared from the world today.
…Excerpted from “I Became the Saint Who Saves the World.”
Knock knock.
Leonhart knocked again.
“Duke?”
As soon as I reflexively opened my mouth to answer, Undine flew over and desperately clamped her hands over my beak.
— Quiet! Do you want to get caught?!
Ah, right. The sounds coming out of my mouth now weren’t words—they were unpleasant crow noises.
Knock knock knock.
“Duke, are you feeling unwell?”
I was going crazy. It felt like Leonhart could walk in at any moment.
‘Guys, what do I do? What am I supposed to do?!’
The spirits’ eyes trembled with anxiety.
— I don’t think Leonhart will just leave. We need to get out of here first.
— Right. Let’s go out to the terrace.
— F**, what is even happening… Contract holder! Run to the terrace!*
‘Huh? Huh? H-how?’
Lying face-down on the bed, I blinked helplessly.
I couldn’t walk or fly. I couldn’t even stand up.
My body had changed so much, I didn’t know how to move it.
I couldn’t even speak.
All I could do was look at the spirits with teary eyes.
— Lian! What are you doing? This isn’t the time for jokes! Get up, quick!
— Maybe she can’t. She looks like she’s struggling to move.
— F**! We can’t even talk to her—why are we asking questions?! Just use magic to move her!*
— I’ll do it! Wind Feather!
‘…?’
Nothing happened. Sylph’s dazed expression opened into a confused gasp.
— Mana isn’t moving!
— What?! Aqua Drop! …Huh? Seriously?
Panic consumed us all.
For some reason, magic wasn’t working. And right now, magic was the only thing we could rely on.
Meanwhile, Leonhart issued his final warning.
“I believe I’ve been more than polite. I’m coming in.”
Undine stomped her feet in horror.
— Gasp! He’s coming in?!
— W-what do we do? We’re going to get caught!
— We’re f**ed! Gnome, lift her!*
— (Nods!)
Gnome, the strongest of the spirits, tried to lift me up—but fell flat on his face.
Spirits in the human world use mana or nature’s power to exert force.
Now that mana wasn’t working, even their strength had weakened.
— Sylph, let’s help! Fire Lizard! Keep watch outside!
The spirits scrambled into action.
Undine grabbed my left wing, Sylph took the right, and Gnome finally managed to balance me upright.
Salamander darted out onto the terrace to check the surroundings.
— No one’s there! Now’s our chance!
But before we could reach the terrace, the doorknob began to turn.
We froze, staring at the door with trembling eyes.
I swear, it was the most terrifying moment of my life. It felt like my blood froze.
Salamander’s telepathy rang through my head.
[F**! Why are you hesitating?! THROW HER!*]
The spirits snapped back to focus and hurled me with all their might.
At the exact moment the door flung open.
“Duke, the priest was supposed to check on you…? Where are you?”
Leonhart raised his brow as he entered the bedroom. Adrian was nowhere to be seen.
He searched the room thoroughly, even the terrace and the bathroom.
But Adrian was nowhere.
“Where the hell did this woman go…?”
Sighing, Leonhart ran a hand through his hair.
Did she get fed up and return to the mansion? If so, she could’ve at least said something.
Any goodwill he’d gained from the presentation immediately plummeted.
“She just never lets me think well of her.”
Leonhart gave up on finding Adrian and went down to the first-floor parlor.
“She must’ve gone back to the mansion. She’s not in the room.”
“But she said she was sick! And you just let her go?”
Rusfell, who had been reviewing the project plans, snapped.
Owen narrowed his gaze.
“Lord Rusfell, are you aware that you’ve been acting a bit strange since earlier?”
“Me? What do you mean?”
“You said the lady’s presentation was impressive. That you were glad it wasn’t boring.”
“…Yeah? So?”
“Isn’t that high praise, coming from you?”
Rusfell flinched and looked away.
He hadn’t expected Adrian to speak so well.
He already knew the plan’s contents, but he couldn’t look away even once during the presentation.
It was so engaging he didn’t want it to end.
“…I mean, I’m just being honest. She did well.”
“Of course. Our lady did shockingly well.”
“See? Even you were surprised!”
“That’s exactly why I was so unnerved. Just how obsessed must she be with His Highness to pull that off?”
“M-maybe she wasn’t doing it just for him…”
“She’s been in seclusion for five years, then suddenly reappears mimicking Lady Adèle—makes a dazzling plan—and joins the Crown Prince’s project as a consultant. If not for His Highness, then who?”
“…”
“Owen, calm down.”
Leonhart patted Owen’s shoulder and sat on the sofa.
The presentation had gone smoothly. They even secured noble support.
If things continued like this, Leonhart would be in the lead for the crown prince succession.
That wasn’t a bad thing—but the problem was that Adrian had made it all happen.
Leonhart and Owen were convinced that, since she couldn’t have him through power, she was now aiming for his heart.
Otherwise, why would she help him?
“Did you see her expression earlier, Your Highness?”
“She’s not very expressive… but I think she was a little surprised.”
“That’s all. She didn’t look curious or interested in me at all—even though it was our first meeting.”
Everyone was surprised the first time they met Owen.
White hair, golden eyes, snowy brows and lashes—it was hard to look away.
But Adrian’s reaction was more like someone inconvenienced by an unexpected encounter.
She didn’t even glance at him twice.
As if she’d seen him countless times before.
“There’s only one person who never reacted to me like that.”
“Who?”
“Lady Adèle.”
“Could she really be copying Adèle that precisely?”
Rusfell, who had been quietly listening, cautiously spoke.
“But I keep thinking… maybe the Duke isn’t imitating Adèle at all.”
“Then who is she imitating?”
“Well…”
Even Rusfell, who was reminded of Adèle by Adrian, couldn’t fully believe they were the same.
It just wasn’t possible.
“She doesn’t seem like someone with low enough self-esteem to copy others… I don’t know. It’s confusing.”
“It’s understandable. The habits are similar, and even the subtle emotional expressions match. Anyone would be confused. But let’s set that aside for now—this is more important.”
“What is?”
Owen paused, then spoke carefully.
“Was there ever a rumor that Duke Ivrante possessed a special ability?”
Leonhart shook his head.
“No. The Ivrante family has never produced a single gifted individual. They’re all normal.”
“That’s what I thought too. Then what was it that I saw in the lady?”
“You saw something?”
“I did.”
Owen’s tone turned serious. Leonhart and Rusfell held their breath.
“I can see auras possessed by certain people. A warrior’s aura is blue and cold. A mage’s aura is red and heavy. I can identify a person’s power by the color of their aura—even without contact.”
Warriors sense aura, mages feel mana, clerics divine holy power—all through physical contact.
Rusfell’s eyes widened.
“So you see something from us too?”
“Yes. From you, Lord Rusfell, I see a ruby-like red aura. From His Highness, a sparkling sea-blue aura.”
It was the first time Leonhart had heard of this.
“When did you get this ability?”
“The day Lady Adèle died.”
“…”
“It just started. As if God said, ‘You lost something precious, so here, take this.’”
Owen scoffed.
“Like I said, it’s not something I see from everyone.”
“Then from whom?”
“Those with special powers—like aura, mana, or holy energy.”
Leonhart lowered his voice.
“You’re not saying you saw it from that woman too…?”
“I did.”
“What color?”
“It was…”
Owen hesitated.
“A color I’d never seen before.”
“…So you don’t know what kind of power it is?”
“No…”
Silence fell over the parlor like a heavy curtain.
The Duke of Ivrante was known as an ordinary person.
If Owen was right, it meant she’d been hiding her power all this time. Not flaunting it—hiding it.
Extremely suspicious.
Leonhart rested his chin on his hand.
“When I grabbed her arm earlier, I didn’t feel anything. So she’s not an aura user…”
“Probably not a cleric either. I didn’t touch her, but there was no trace of that sacred aura around her.”
Holy power is like radiant moonlight.
Even without seeing the aura, you could tell a cleric from their presence.
Just being near them made your heart feel solemn, even emotional.
But Adrian’s aura felt nothing like that.
‘It was a beautifully sinister violet. If demons had auras, they would look like that…’
Owen turned to Rusfell.
“Lord Rusfell, have you ever checked if the lady has mana?”
“I had a chance, but… the situation was so sudden, I didn’t have the time to—”
Before Rusfell could finish, Leonhart raised a finger to his lips.
“Shh!”
