The worst political hurdle was cleared. "That is wise, Sir. The public execution will send a message that the Temple tolerates no deviation from the path of light, reinforcing the image of the Delta Squad."

Guram ignored Osbon and addressed Ray directly, his voice barely a whisper. "And what of you? What will be your story when I present my report to the central authorities?"

Ray stood up from the sofa, finally acknowledging the necessity of clarity, even if it was a calculated half-truth.

"I'm just a passerby who didn't like the way an innocent died in the name of her being a witch. When I decided to investigate out of curiosity, I found out about this whole incident."

His words felt like an impossible puzzle. Guram finally allowed the crucial question to surface. Is he not from the Temple's higher-ups?

Just then, as if Ray could read his mind, Ray offered a slight smile. "Sorry for lying earlier, but I'm not part of the Temple."

Guram's expression was now utterly inconceivable. His massive body tensed.

He couldn't accept that he had been so thoroughly played and coerced by some unknown, who is this strong but he isn't part of the Temple. Yet, the strength Ray wielded defied all logic.

"But... how?" Guram asked, the word torn from his throat. "Are you perhaps, a demon hunter?"

Ray paused, considering the title. It was close enough to the function he often performed. "Maybe, maybe not," he answered again, maintaining his characteristic mysterious tone.

Guram simply stared, his carefully constructed composure shattered. All the humiliation he had endured—the forced surrender of his authority, the confession of his subordinate's crime—had been delivered by an outsider.

Just then, the manor doors fully opened, and Leader Erina walked in, flanked by her three loyal Vice-Leaders, Tez, Lora and Yamin.

Following them were the remaining three of Guram's own Delta Squad Vice-Leaders, their faces a mixture of confusion and panic.

The sheer presence of the combined Temple leadership instantly silenced the chaos in the hall.

Erina's sharp eyes, swept across the entire scene in an instant: the terrified, roped members of the two noble families; the Vice-Leader Osbon standing watch; Guram, who looked utterly defeated, with a downed expression; and finally, Ray, who stood calmly near the center of the conflict.

Erina addressed the figure she intuitively recognized as the nexus of the conflict. "Sir, how is everything proceeding?" she asked Ray, acknowledging his pivotal role.

Ray looked back at the Gama Squad Leader, his expression neutral. "It's all over. Vice-Leader Osbon and Leader Guram will let you know the details."

Ray had just passed command back to the Temple, forcing Guram to immediately implement the plan they had agreed upon and present the situation as a unified Temple operation.

Guram knew the spotlight was entirely on him now. He had seconds to turn things back to white from black, as for why Ray did that, they had no idea about it.

The Willson and Dorian family members, along with the two confessing servants, were immediately sent to the prison within the Knights' Garrison. Concurrently, a massive public announcement was orchestrated throughout Hosfield City detailing the horrific crimes of the two noble families, their corruption, and their manipulation of the sacred witch-hunt laws.

However, there was one name conspicuously missing from the list of criminals: Zeth.

Since not many people were aware that Zeth was even associated with the Willson family, the truth was masterfully bent.

The official Temple statement, endorsed by both Leader Guram and Leader Erina, claimed that Zeth had courageously came to the city after learning about the rogue werewolf attack and had died saving the innocent people of the area.

As the story was sanctioned and led by the two highest-ranking leaders of two Temple squads, the people quickly began to believe the lie, just as they had believed the lie that the burnt woman was a witch.

The swift justice dealt to the noble families lent weight to the Temple's fabricated heroism.

Later that night, Ray was formally invited to a dinner that was intended to be a private between the leaders and vice-leaders—and Ray but simply refused.

Instead, he ended up in the same dimly lit bar where he had met the same old man, the owner, on his very first day in the city.

"One mug, here are your bucks." Ray placed the coins on the counter.

The old man first nodded and picked up the currency, but then his eyes widened slightly as he realized it was double the price of a single mug.

When he was about to return the excess money, the old man saw Ray, the same young man who had seemingly lost his money a few days prior.

Ray spoke before the man could voice his concern. "Hello. Please take it; it's for the last time."

The old man, sensing the finality in the young man's voice and recognizing the generosity, did not argue.

As he began filling the mug from the barrel tap, he asked, "You are still here, young man? Did you enjoy your days in this chaotic city?" He meant the entire situation, which had been the talk of the entire city.

Ray took the mug, raising it slightly in a brief toast. "To be honest, I enjoyed it a lot," he replied, taking a deep sip of the beer.

The man then spoke, remembering Ray's strange words from their last encounter about justice coming swiftly.

"Seems your words came true. I heard that tomorrow, at the exact noon hour, is the public execution of the whole two families. They truly deserve that." He held no remorse in his voice.

Ray nodded, sipping his beer thoughtfully. "Indeed, they deserve it."

After he finished the mug, he asked for a quiet room for the night and, after the intense, draining days of planning and execution, he ended his night in a deep, restful sleep.

…

In the morning, just after the noon hour when the executions would have concluded, Vice-Leader Osbon came to the bar. He found the old man polishing glasses behind the counter.

"Where is the person who came here last night?" Osbon asked, urgency clear in his voice.

The old man instinctively adopted a wary expression upon seeing the Temple uniform. He wrote his response on the counter with a cloth. "That young man? Sir Knight, did he do something wrong?"

Osbon shook his head in denial. "No, but he is someone I'm familiar with. Now, can you call him?" The old man didn't fully believe Osbon's soft words, but he hid nothing. "He left at the dawn."

"He left!" Osbon's voice was loud with shock, the noise startling the few other patrons. The old man answered calmly, "Yes, at the early morning. He said he wanted to see this world more and left."

Osbon knew the old man wasn't lying. He turned abruptly and hurried to report the news.

When he reached the garrison, Erina, Guram, and the other Vice-Leaders had the same reaction. "He left? What?"

Erina demanded, looking at the stunned Guram. The enigma who saved their operation had vanished as quickly as he arrived.

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