I’m a Holy Knight, but I Contracted with an Evil God - Chapter 56

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 56.
While the entire Imperial Capital churned with rumors and reports flowing from the wreckage of the Shadow Marketplace, Leon climbed aboard the carriage bound for the Northern Region, following Vaniser.
Through the window, watching the Imperial Capital recede into the distance, Leon swallowed down a profound sense of regret.
‘That bastard Caius gets to stay in the Capital.’
He currently belonged to the Vaniser Executive Knight Corps.
Following the assault on the Shadow Marketplace, he had remained in the Capital under the guise of post-incident cleanup and suppressing remnant forces—stationed there alongside Vice-Commander Wolfram Hagen.
It was admittedly a justifiable arrangement, yet the fact that his target had vanished from sight felt unbearably bitter.
“Your expression seems troubled, Sir Serbarin. Is the seat uncomfortable?”
At the gentle voice from across the carriage, Leon turned his head to find High Priest Ecrhardt observing him with studied attention.
High Priest Ecrhardt Aisen of Vaniser.
The very man who had vouched for Leon’s entry into the Serbarin bloodline at the imperial banquet alongside Raftio.
“Not at all, of course not. I was merely concerned about the harsh northern cold that awaits us ahead.”
Leon’s deflection was measured enough, yet the air within the carriage remained decidedly ungenial.
Vaniser’s peculiar severity pressed down on the cramped interior like a suffocating weight.
He found himself already missing the past journey, where Tristan and Sion had growled endlessly, their bickering filling every moment with noise.
‘The atmosphere here is absolutely stifling.’
【Aren’t you supposed to be used to this sort of thing? Complaining seems premature.】
‘I can handle juvenile provocations well enough, but being observed like this all day long—it’s another matter entirely. Besides, these Vaniser types are all utterly inscrutable.’
Vaniser, known by the epithet “the Order of Discipline,” earned notoriety among the three main denominations serving the Three Main Deities for its strictest codes and most rigid atmosphere.
Unlike Arseriel, which maintained a certain flexibility in the practice of doctrine, Vaniser placed tremendous weight not merely on the doctrine itself but on strict adherence to it.
If Arseriel wielded order as a tool in service of the value called “righteousness,” then Vaniser seemed to venerate “order itself.”
At the same time, Leon found that subtle gap—where human warmth seemed surgically removed—deeply distasteful.
Vaniser’s inverted convictions left an impression like confronting some grotesque facet born of human belief twisted upon itself.
…….
After that brief exchange, an awkward silence descended upon the carriage, broken only by the rhythmic sound of wheels.
It was Ecrhardt who broke that suffocating quiet first.
He raised a topic as though casually inquiring after someone’s health.
“I’ve heard tales of you already. The hero of the Eastern Subjugation—to think he’d be so young a boy. Even after seeing you at the banquet, your accomplishments strain credulity.”
Again.
Praise masquerading as assessment had become so familiar it made his skin crawl.
Though Leon had rightfully earned the title of “Sir” and stood as a legitimate knight, Ecrhardt’s words were thick with the arrogance of dismissing him as some precocious child.
A man lacking both the years and the dignity befitting his position—that was Ecrhardt’s unspoken verdict.
Rather than open hostility, this was far more cunning and vicious contempt. Leon felt a fresh wave of deep disdain, yet he swallowed a bitter laugh and donned the innocent face of a boy ignorant of the world.
“Rumors tend toward exaggeration. Yet thanks to Vaniser’s joint guarantee, my entry procedures proved quite smooth. On behalf of my father, I offer my gratitude.”
At Leon’s polite and respectful reply, Ecrhardt’s expression shifted subtly.
“Already calling him father?”
“Of course. The entry ceremony is already complete—to neglect such courtesies would surely disappoint him.”
Leon placed deliberate emphasis on the word “father” as he smiled.
He needed Raftio to believe the boy had been thoroughly groomed.
Simultaneously, he wanted the bond between them to appear not a mere arrangement of necessity, but something profoundly intimate and genuine—a true father-and-son relationship.
“Heh, indeed. How delightful that the High Priest holds you in such regard.”
Leon’s smile had apparently triggered a perfect misunderstanding, for Ecrhardt’s eyes shifted away while his mind visibly churned behind that serene facade.
Leon swallowed his satisfied smile and turned his gaze back to the window.
The border was not far.
* * *
Several days later, Vaniser’s carriage arrived at the Borhes Territory, located in the border region of the Empire.
The estate, ringed on all sides by towering cliffs that jutted upward like colossal spikes, radiated an arid, desolate atmosphere every bit as cutting as the northern wind that could flay bare skin.
The delegation was greeted by Marquis Borhes, whose pallid complexion matched the barrenness of the land itself.
“Welcome to Borhes, the gateway to the Empire’s northernmost reaches. Sir Serbarin, High Priest Ecrhardt—I am Marquis Borhes, lord of these lands.”
The three took their seats across from one another at a table in a reception room tinged with cold.
Atop the table, in stark contrast to the estate’s desolate aspect, sat elaborate refreshments: fragrant tea and lavish pastries generously dusted with sugar, arranged with ostentatious care.
Given the Borhes Territory’s circumstances, the spread seemed not merely too lavish but deliberately calculated to impress—almost suspiciously so.
Yet Marquis Borhes’s hesitation to speak prolonged the silence, and in that time, the steam rising from the teacups dissipated rapidly.
As heavy stillness descended upon the cooling tea, High Priest Ecrhardt at last broke his silence.
“For weary travelers seeking respite, such hospitality seems rather excessive.”
“……There is a request I must make.”
When the Marquis finally spoke, a faint tremor ran through his voice.
Whatever his business, it promised to be thoroughly awkward.
The Marquis swallowed dryly before continuing in a trembling voice.
“Among the nearby fiefdoms, there is a village called Pnebelern. Once it flourished with activity, its livelihoods built upon logging in the midst of verdant evergreen forests that remained green throughout the year.”
“But?”
“Recently, a strange plague has broken out in that region. The nature of the illness differs markedly from anything we’ve encountered before, and we’ve been struggling to resolve it. I wondered if you might find it in your heart to examine the disease…….”
His tone was deferential, yet the request itself was entirely reasonable.
If the illness couldn’t be resolved through conventional medicine, it was likely connected to Contamination, and if it involved Contamination, then investigating and resolving it was the natural duty and procedure of whichever of the Three Main Deities’ churches took charge.
So the Baron’s request was justified, and Leon assumed that High Priest Ecrhardt would accept it.
Among the party returning to Vaniser’s main headquarters were several healing priests, so dispatching a few of them to Pnebelern would be a simple matter.
Yet High Priest Ecrhardt gave an unexpected answer.
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”
“Pardon? But…….”
The Baron, apparently assuming that the High Priest would naturally accept his request, made no effort to hide his bewilderment at this refusal.
Leon too felt puzzled, his eyes narrowing, when Ecrhardt continued with a benevolent smile.
“Have there been deaths in the village?”
“Pardon? No, not yet…….”
“Then the matter doesn’t seem particularly urgent. I’m afraid it’s impossible at the moment—I have pressing reasons to return to headquarters as quickly as possible. Instead, once I’m back at my church, I’ll send an investigative priest with all speed.”
Why not simply leave one of the healing priests from the current party and depart?
That obvious question manifested plainly on both Leon’s face and the Baron’s.
Yet rather than voice it aloud, the Baron could only say this:
“……Yes, thank you for your consideration, Your Grace.”
He bowed, but disappointment was written plain across his downturned face.
Leon, who had been calmly observing the situation, broke the silence.
“I will go.”
“Did you mean it, Sir Leon? But you are not a priest…….”
“Not a healing priest, no—but the Stigma I bear produces a similar effect.”
As he spoke, Leon flexed his left hand, clad in a gauntlet.
Simultaneously, Baron Borhes’s face brightened as he grasped the meaning behind the gesture.
“Remarkable! So you truly are a Stigma Manifestor, Sir Leon, and possess such an ability!”
Strictly speaking, Leon’s ability was not Purification, but it would be more helpful than Vaniser abandoning the looming catastrophe and departing.
Besides, Leon’s purpose had never been simple charity to begin with.
【Why volunteer for such troublesome work?】
‘Among the names from the List I acquired at the Shadow Marketplace, one came from Pnebelern.’
Pnebelern was already one of the destinations Leon had to investigate without fail.
Conducting the investigation under the Baron’s official request was far cleaner than simply passing through by chance—both in terms of justification and in the eyes of others.
“Are you certain? I heard you were bound for Scar.”
“I’m certain. It’s not a pressing schedule.”
By the time they’d reached this point, Leon had gathered basic information about Vaniser.
Throughout the journey, High Priest Ecrhardt’s demeanor had been remarkably cautious, and the other priests and holy knights maintained distance from Leon as if by agreement.
Whether this stemmed from their insular nature or specifically from Leon being their target remained unclear, but one thing was certain:
There was no more information to extract from them, no matter how long the journey continued.
It would be different if he could penetrate deep into Vaniser’s main headquarters, but he still lacked sufficient pretext for that.
‘So this takes priority.’
Moreover, Leon’s person carried items gathered during the previous journey, including those from the Shadow Marketplace, that required discreet examination.
Having been constantly surrounded by those with keen senses from the Red Hwrang onward, there simply hadn’t been a chance to sort through objects of questionable origin.
It was time to organize his affairs.
“Very well then. It’s unfortunate, but I’m afraid we must part ways here. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Sir Leon.”
* * *
“This is Pnebelern.”
Kolman, the knight of Baron Borhes who served as guide, pointed toward the village entrance with a rough gesture as he spoke.
True to the Baron’s word, Pnebelern was a small village surrounded by endless coniferous forest.
As Leon surveyed the area from horseback, he noticed that among those dense evergreens, a familiar species of tree was mixed in with unusual frequency.
‘Silverleaf trees.’
【Silverleaf? Isn’t that the tree from your homeland?】
‘Yes, the same. Silverleaf trees originally come from the Northern Region, and the colder and more barren the environment, the stronger and sturdier they grow.’
Though Elderit lay in the western continent, its high elevation and proximity to the Northern Region’s border meant Silverleaf trees flourished there in clusters.
Gazing at the surrounding landscape that carried the breath of home, Leon murmured softly.
“Still cold here.”
Perhaps because the seasons’ turning came slowly.
Spring seemed to arrive later in Pnebelern than in the Imperial Capital or the fortress of Arseriel.
The earth, frozen solid through winter, was only now beginning to thaw, and green sprouts pushing through the cold soil were just beginning to unfurl.
With moisture in the air and temperatures rising, conditions were ideal for an epidemic to flourish.
“Is there a physician in the village?”
“The Baron did send a physician to serve within the castle.”
“So there is no official resident doctor, then.”
Pnebelern was larger than Elderit, yet still a small and remote village.
In such places, it was common for an apothecary to double as physician.
“I would like to hear the circumstances surrounding the illness’s initial outbreak. Where is the apothecary?”
When Leon inquired, Kolman, who had been leading them, took the lead and made for a small cottage at the village’s edge, where the forest began.
“Delan! Are you in there!”
Delan?
That name—the one that had just escaped Kolman’s lips—was certainly one inscribed on the roster Leon had obtained from the Shadow Marketplace.
As Kolman knocked, a hesitant sound came from within, and the door opened.
“Kolman? What brings you at this hour?”
The moment Leon laid eyes on the man whose face had emerged beyond the threshold, his eyes widened.
From this slovenly-dressed apothecary of Pnebelern, Leon sensed a familiar aura.
Faint, yet unmistakable.
Sacred Power.
Continued in the next chapter ▶
A Holy Knight who Made a Contract with an Evil God
Author
Ram Dath
Publisher
Kim Seok-hwan, Choi Se-ra
Published by
Grae Publishing
Inquiries
[email protected]
Publication Date
March 27, 2026
UCI
G720:N+A327-20260227066
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※ Pentagram welcomes your precious manuscripts.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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