Chapter 15: The Watchful Shadow

Yet, as the darkness stirred within Alastor, he was not the only one aware of it.

Nox had been watching from the moment Alastor entered the capital.

Perched within the high spires of the Holy Cathedral, cloaked in shadows unseen by mortal eyes, he observed as the young man stepped through the grand gates, flanked by Duke Von and his retinue. A flicker of something old—something forbidden—brushed against Nox's senses the moment Alastor passed beneath the towering statues of the Twelve Supreme Gods.

He carries it.

Nox's fingers lightly traced the worn beads of his rosary, his golden eyes narrowing.

The Supreme Pontiff had summoned him days before, her expression unreadable as she handed him a sealed decree.

"You will watch over him, Nox. Guide him if you must. Eliminate him if he strays too far."

The words carried the weight of something greater. Nox knew better than to question the will of the Holy Church, but this? This was different. He had read the ancient texts. He had seen what happened to those who touched the abyss.

Now, standing in the heart of the cathedral, Nox watched Alastor approach the altar—a young man whose beauty rivaled the gods themselves, yet whose presence held something… unsettling. The Awakening Ceremony had failed. Or at least, that was what the world believed. But Nox had spent too many years chasing the unseen to believe in failures.

He knew better.

Alastor should have expected something like this.

Cedric had spoken of him before—the mysterious priest who had gained the Church's favor, the one with a purple-grade talent in holy magic. A rarity, a prodigy, and, as Cedric had put it, "absurdly handsome with half the kingdom's women swooning over him." At the time, Alastor had thought little of it. Another figure rising through the ranks of the Church meant little to him.

But now, as he exited the cathedral, golden light casting long shadows along the marble steps, a figure stood waiting for them.

A priest in pristine white robes lined with black and purple. His features were sharp yet angelic, his smile one of serenity—but there was something off about the way his gaze settled on Alastor, like he could see past flesh and bone.

He bowed his head in greeting. "Lord Alastor Von."

Alastor hesitated. He had never met this man before, yet something about him felt… familiar.

"I do not believe we've met," he replied, guarded.

The priest smiled, stepping forward with measured grace. "No. But I have been watching." His golden eyes flickered with something unreadable. "You have touched something beyond the gods, young master. I wonder… do you fear what comes next?"

A chill laced through the air.

Duke Von stiffened beside Alastor, his hand instinctively reaching toward his sword. "And who, may I ask, are you?"

The priest pressed a hand to his chest in mock humility. "Ah. Forgive my lack of manners." His voice was smooth, melodic, yet somehow dangerous.

"I am Nox, humble servant of the Holy Church."

Alastor didn't trust him. The way he spoke, the way his gaze lingered—it was as if Nox already knew every secret Alastor had yet to uncover about himself.

"The Church sent you?" he asked, studying the man's expression.

Nox nodded. "To be your spiritual guide, of course." A pause, then a slight tilt of his head. "Though some might call me your observer."

Alastor's jaw tightened. He had no need for a guide. And yet, as he looked at Nox, something deep within him whispered that this man knew more than he was willing to admit.

More than anyone else dared to say aloud.

And so, for now, he would play along.

"Very well," Alastor said finally. "But tell me, Nox… what is it exactly that you are meant to guide me toward?"

Nox's lips curved into an unreadable smile.

"To the truth, of course."

.

.

Days later, Alastor had nearly forgotten the priest's presence—until he strolled into House Von's estate completely unannounced.

Seated leisurely in the estate's grand hall, sipping tea as if he had always belonged there, Nox barely spared Alastor a glance before speaking.

"You think your awakening was a failure." His voice was casual, but the weight behind his words made Alastor freeze.

Nox looked up, golden eyes gleaming in the dim light. "But tell me, young master… what if it was never meant to succeed?"

A slow realization crept over Alastor's spine.

For the first time since that fateful day, he felt the faintest whisper of something stirring within him. A truth just beyond his reach. A secret not meant to be known.

And in that moment, as Nox sat there smiling, Alastor knew one thing for certain.

This man was far more dangerous than he seemed.

The weight of his words lingered long after he had spoken them. Alastor studied him, searching for deception, for manipulation—but there was none. Only quiet confidence, as if Nox knew the answers Alastor had spent his life searching for.

And that was what made him truly dangerous.

Nox placed his cup down gently, the sound barely audible in the silence between them. "I look forward to our time together, young master." He stood gracefully, his movements fluid, controlled. "The truth has a way of revealing itself to those who are ready to see it."

With that, he turned, robes flowing behind him as he walked toward the door.

But before leaving, he cast one last glance over his shoulder, golden eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "Be careful, young master. Not all truths are meant to be known."

Then, he was gone.

And for the first time in a long while, Alastor felt truly uncertain of the path ahead.

As he watched Nox disappear, a thought struck him—one that refused to fade.

No wonder so many women had fallen for him.

It was undeniable. The man was striking, his beauty otherworldly, his presence both enthralling and unsettling. Alastor could see why half the kingdom whispered his name in admiration, why even nobility seemed captivated by him. But that only made him more dangerous.

Because Nox was not just handsome—he was a man who knew too much.