The infirmary teacher raised an eyebrow. "He's staying in the room next to Chris. What do you need him for?"
Belial casually came up with an excuse. "The principal asked me to apologize to him."
Without waiting for the teacher to question why she hadn't come earlier in the afternoon, Belial strode toward the adjacent patient room. She raised her hand and knocked on the door.
The infirmary teacher was just about to mention that Samuel might already be asleep when a soft, refined voice drifted out from inside.
"Come in."
Well, he was still awake. The teacher shrugged and returned to their work.
Belial stood alone in the corridor, facing the door. She lowered her gaze for a few seconds before finally pushing it open and stepping inside.
Since Samuel was a faculty member, the infirmary had assigned him a private ward.
As she entered, she immediately spotted a man with short ash-blond hair leaning against the headboard. Moonlight streamed through the window, casting a silvery glow over his frail and slender frame.
Samuel.
Belial had first heard this name in the City of Revelry. It was during a school break when she had stolen a mercenary badge hidden by a nun at the orphanage to take on a guild mission, hoping to earn some spare coin.
She had been too young at the time, lacking both experience and strength. But luck had been on her side—she completed the mission and even crossed paths with a pair of troublemaking beastfolk twins who thrived on chaos and adventure.
Through their conversations, Belial learned that these twins had been close friends of her father, Frey, since his student days. She had never met them before, nor had they known that Beryl—the daughter of Frey—now went by the name Belial.
Hiding her true identity, she ran wild with them in the City of Revelry, earning their trust after bailing them out of trouble more than once.
Back then, she was too young to enter taverns, so the twins had smuggled her in. Just as she eagerly anticipated her first taste of alcohol, they mischievously placed a steaming cup of milk in front of her instead.
Sulking, she sipped the milk while watching the twins drink, gamble, and swap stories with the rowdy patrons.
That night, after they had drunk themselves into a stupor, she finally pried some long-buried secrets from their lips.
About her father.
And about a man named Samuel.
"Samuel's great—aside from his terrible luck."
"He worries too much about others. That's a flaw, right?"
"You could say that. Kind-hearted and unlucky… if he had been missing even one of those traits, he wouldn't have died so early."
"The reason he died? He saved a newborn at the cost of his own life."
"That kid's not doing so well now either. I really don't see the point."
Though their clues were scarce, they gave Belial a direction to investigate.
After returning to school, she inquired further and pieced together Samuel's story.
A kind-hearted man. Unfortunate to the very end.
He had helped her parents more times than she could count.
Years ago, Frey had ventured into the Miasma Forest in search of a dragonbone to save his mother. But he had failed. Wracked with grief, he had hesitated to return home, nearly missing her final moments.
It was Samuel's persistent persuasion that had brought him back, saving him from a lifetime of regret.
Later, when the Duke passed away, the weight of the elves' future had fallen onto Frey, who had barely graduated at the time. Iluri had defied her family to stand by his side, and once again, Samuel had been there, supporting them both from the shadows.
Samuel had watched Frey grow, forging his path through adversity.
"And even you weren't an exception," Countess Adara had once told Belial as she neared the truth. "Iluri's pregnancy was a nightmare for her. She didn't want you. But Samuel convinced her to keep you. Too bad he ended up dying because of you—otherwise, none of this would have happened."
If Iluri was right, and Belial's very existence only brought misfortune, then the first person she had doomed was the man who had urged her mother to give birth to her—Samuel.
As for Samuel's child—the boy who had spent his fragile childhood in the Duke's castle, too sickly to begin school until years later—Belial had never once offered him kindness or care.
Had things not taken such drastic turns afterward, her resentment would have continued festering.
But none of that mattered now.
All she cared about was bringing Lilith back.
And if she could watch Frey suffer in the process, she would gladly do whatever it took.
"You know who I am?" Belial left the door ajar as she walked over, dragging a chair to the foot of the bed before sitting down.
Samuel hesitated briefly, puzzled by her deliberate distancing, but chose not to comment on it.
"Frey mentioned you to me."
Of course.
At this point in time, Frey's relationship with Samuel had already transcended that of a mere teacher and student.
They were more like friends. Like brothers.
Samuel was older than the beastfolk twins, and Frey often sought his counsel when troubled.
That was why, earlier, Belial had spotted Frey sneaking past the infirmary teacher's office, breaking curfew to come here.
No doubt, he had heard about Samuel's injury—how a shard of window glass had cut him—and had rushed over to check on him.
Perfect.
"The principal sent me to apologize," Belial drawled, intentionally dragging out her words, stalling. Any moment now, Frey would slip past the infirmary teacher and make his way to the second-floor ward.
"If not for me, you wouldn't have been hit by Frey's outburst."
Samuel, ever the embodiment of kindness, smiled gently. "It wasn't entirely your fault. I was already injured. Besides, having a chance to rest properly isn't so bad."
"But…" His voice softened even further, as if he were the one at fault instead. "Attacking a fellow student was a bit alarming. I don't mean to criticize, but I hope you'll think carefully before acting next time—to avoid harming the innocent. The school is safe. You don't need to be on constant alert."
Belial's reply was curt. "I wasn't raised in a school."
"I can tell." Samuel chuckled. "What did you do before this?"
"Mercenary."
He nodded in understanding. "A dangerous profession."
Their conversation carried on idly, but Belial's patience was running thin.
Then, through the narrow gap she had left in the doorway, she finally caught sight of a familiar figure sneaking closer.
Everything was falling into place.
She lowered her head slightly, hiding the eerie smile creeping across her lips.
"I heard you were injured in the Miasma Forest?"
—
"You could've waited until morning."
Yawning, Gullveig lazily poured a cup of tea for Cloris, the Elven Duke and Frey's father.
Cloris sat down with effortless grace, exuding an air of refined dominance. But even that couldn't mask his irritation.
"My son was threatened by the Church, and you're telling me to wait until morning?"
Gullveig rubbed her temples. The last time she had felt this exasperated was when Frey had been bitten by a water sprite the previous year. Instead of visiting his injured son at the infirmary, Cloris had stormed into her office and casually suggested, "I think Mirror Lake is too dangerous for students. Let's fill it in."
Naturally, she had rejected his outrageous idea.
But it had made one thing abundantly clear—when it came to protecting his son, Cloris had no limits.
And yet, as the two of them debated, neither realized that Frey, restless from the events of the day, had already broken curfew and slipped into the infirmary.
Unaware that just outside Samuel's ward, his steps had frozen in place at the sound of Belial's voice.
"I've been there too," she murmured. "Dangerous, yes, but full of rare treasures. I once found a thunder dragon's bone there… though I lost it soon after to an unfortunate incident."
Samuel's eyes widened in disbelief. "A thunder dragon's bone? Are you certain?"
"Of course. I have no idea why it appeared there, but I plan to go back with the school expedition. Who knows? I might get lucky again."
Standing just beyond the threshold, Frey's breath caught.
One thought consumed him.
He had to go to the Miasma Forest.