Chapter 56

I looked around, but it was difficult to distinguish anyone due to the large number of people and the chaos.

'I heard that the pickpocket gang was completely wiped out.'

Is someone I couldn't catch targeting me?

I wanted to lure them this way, but I couldn't predict what a person with a grudge might do.

'Let’s go to where Sir Jeritt is.'

"Damian, come here."

I grabbed Damian's hand and blended into the crowd. I intended to head to where the carriage was.

'If I mix in with the people, they won’t find me easily...'

That was when it happened.

A strong, foul smell, one I had never encountered before, hit me. It smelled like something was rotting.

The moment I recognized the smell, someone grabbed my arm forcefully. I stumbled and was dragged in that direction without a chance to escape.

The grip was so strong it felt like my arm would break.

I twisted my arm to try to break free. Then, something sharp dug into my arm.

"……!"

The pain was so intense that I couldn't even groan.

It was the power of someone with ill intent. I could instinctively tell.

The strength in my hand holding Damian's suddenly drained away.

"……Eli?"

Damian turned his head towards me.

"Eli!"

Seeing me being dragged away, Damian hurriedly reached out his hand. However, the surging crowd made Damian's figure disappear from my sight.

I could faintly hear Damian's voice, but it was buried in the noisy surroundings.

I would be taken away helplessly if this continued.

"Someone, please……!"

Just as I was trying to force out my voice, someone called my name from somewhere.

"Eli-sama!"

It was May.

May instantly pushed the strange man away from me.

The moment my body was pushed back, someone caught me in their arms.

"Goodness, Eli-sama. Are you okay?"

Warm arms. It was Ace.

"Are you hurt anywhere?"

Ivana, who had just arrived, examined my condition with a face that looked like she was about to cry.

May, who had been interrogating the man, suddenly stopped and looked at me.

"Let’s take him to the Duke. He will give a punishment that goes beyond what we can think of."

"Alright, alright. I'll call our knights to take him away."

"Before that, we need to tie him up. Could you hold his other arm?"

"Ah, alright."

Just as Jeritt was about to follow May's calm response, the man, who had been groaning all along, spoke up urgently.

"Please, just a moment!"

"I just wanted to check if my child was okay!"

"Child? Child?"

May frowned.

"Don’t make ridiculous excuses. Who would hurt their daughter's arm like that?"

May pointed to my bleeding arm.

"It wasn’t intentional! I was just in such a hurry…."

May's accusation made the man shudder, and he spoke with a voice tinged with tears.

"I know I look terrible. But I was just worried that my daughter might run away like her mother."

Tears began to fall from the man's green eyes.

May, who had been questioning him firmly, seemed a bit taken aback and closed her mouth.

His long, unkempt nails were stained with what I assumed was my blood.

"She definitely said this. My child has the same blonde hair and green eyes as me…!"

The man buried his face in his dirty palms and began to sob bitterly. Sunlight fell on his greasy hair, which was the same golden color as mine.

Everyone's gaze turned to me.

No one seemed to be able to speak easily.

I was the same.

'Could I be his daughter?'

But my mother had never spoken about my father.

So I had only speculated that he might have been a vagrant from the same street.

My heart churned. Was this feeling nostalgia or resentment?

I couldn't easily decide.

That was when it happened.

"Please don’t go too far…! Oh."

A gentle voice stopped in front of us, at a loss for words.

A child, similar in build to me, wearing a white robe.

"Sir, Sir! You’re too fast! I wanted to come with you…."

The child with the brownish skin, who had been following, also stopped when he saw us.

"Eli?"

"Grace?"

I widened my eyes. The child was Grace.

"Eli, what’s going on? Why are you with this uncle?"

"That’s what I want to ask. Uncle?"

While we were at a loss for words, the girl in the white robe stepped between us.

"May I explain if you don’t mind?"

She said this and took off her robe.

Her reddish-brown hair and deep green eyes were revealed.

"I am Oblie, a priestess from the Northern Grand Temple."

The girl smiled kindly.

She briefly introduced herself.

Her name was Oblie. She was thirteen years old, the same age as me, and a priestess at the Northern Temple.

The temple often visited various 'low places' to spread the word of the gods and heal the hearts of people who had been devastated by war.

During one of these visits, she met Grace and became friends with her, she explained.

"Today, I was helping the homeless on the streets as part of the divine calling. This man was one of them."

Oblie said, supporting the man who had fallen to the ground.

"Then, he suddenly ran off, saying he had found his daughter. Grace and I, worried about any possible incidents, hurriedly followed him and ended up meeting you all."

Oblie finished her explanation with a smile.

I was also quite mature for my age, but she showed an incredibly mature attitude.

While she was explaining, Jeritt seemed to have organized his thoughts and spoke calmly.

"But that doesn’t justify his actions."

"I can’t easily believe he’s her father."

Jeritt and May’s firm attitudes made the man shrink back again.

"Brother."

Oblie took the man’s hand in a comforting manner. She took out a handkerchief and wiped the blood from his hand.

"Brother just wanted to find his child. He was just too eager, and he didn’t do anything wrong."

Oblie comforted the man with a soft voice.

It was as if he was receiving a blessing.

"Oblie."

At that moment, a sharp voice cut through the air.

Damian looked at Oblie with a cold expression.

"Why are you making that judgment?"

"……Yes?"

"The one who got hurt is Eli."

"……."

"That’s something Eli should say, not you."

Damian’s voice was chillingly cold. Had I ever heard him speak like this before?

I looked at Damian with a slightly bewildered face.

"……I think there’s a misunderstanding. I was just-"

"Let’s treat the wound first."

Oblie tried to explain, but Damian firmly cut her off.

"Shouldn’t a priestess take care of the injured first?"

The soft atmosphere Oblie had created turned hostile again.

The atmosphere was like cold water had been poured over us, but it helped me regain my composure.

This wasn’t the time to stand around dazed.

"Ouch, it hurts."

I made a loud noise and grabbed my blood-soaked arm.

"Eli, does it hurt a lot?"

Damian quickly softened his tone and examined my condition.

"Yes, it hurts a lot. Could you look at it?"

"Sure, sure."

Damian was completely focused on examining my wound.

While he was distracted, I glanced at Oblie.

Despite Damian’s attitude, she still hadn’t lost her smile.

Indeed, she was far too mature for her age.

'She said she’s a priestess from the Northern Temple.'

Suppressing the rising sense of déjà vu, I looked at my injured arm.

Beyond the torn fabric, long and deep nail marks were visible.

"It must hurt."

Oblie slightly frowned.

"Yes, it hurts a lot."

I pouted and extended my arm.

"Will you heal it with your divine power, Priestess?"

"……Yes?"

She asked, a bit taken aback. I looked at her with the bright eyes of a child expecting a gift.

"My wound, your divine power can heal it instantly, right?"

I just wanted to see that expensive divine power in action.