The next day, Vienna stood behind Sister Helen with two other saints, awaiting their guest.

It was the day the Nisti family would visit for their regular sponsorship meeting.

They came to check on the welfare of the church or medical center and to hear about the current state of affairs.

After all, verifying how their donations were being used was crucial to building trust and continuing their support.

As always, Sister Helen sat calmly in her chair, her face serene.

Two cups of steaming tea sat on the table, their warmth filling the air.

This tranquil scene seemed to reflect just how transparently Helen had been managing the sponsorship funds.

Knock, knock.

Someone knocked at the door. The long-anticipated guest had arrived.

“Come in,” Helen called, granting permission.

The door creaked open.

Vienna swallowed discreetly.

Perhaps she wouldn’t find anything suspicious here, but something about the moment told her otherwise.

A middle-aged man entered first.

His white hair and beard gave him an air of wisdom, and despite his age, he looked impeccably well-kept.

It was Vienna’s first time seeing a noble up close.

She had seen them from a distance at occasional church events, but never had she been in the same room as one.

He truly radiated nobility.

Several maids and attendants followed him in, each exuding elegance.

The middle-aged man extended his hand toward Helen.

“How have you been?”

“Very well, thank you. And you, Hian?”

Helen mentioned his name as if signaling to Vienna.

As expected, Vienna realized this man was none other than Hian Nisti.

“I’ve been well. Please, have a seat,” Hian said, gesturing politely toward the chairs.

The two took their seats.

“Has everything been fine this month?” Hian asked.

“Yes, thanks to your support.”

At Helen’s signal, Vienna handed over a set of documents.

They detailed where the Nisti family’s funds had been used and how many people had been helped as a result.

“Thank you, Vienna,” Helen said gratefully.

The butler standing behind Hian turned to Vienna and asked, “A new face, I see?”

Though he was merely a butler, his tone carried the wariness of a bodyguard.

“Gwyn, it’s fine. These saints save lives. You don’t need to be so cautious,” Hian said, waving off his butler’s concern.

“My apologies. My butler tends to be overly vigilant,” Hian said, offering Vienna an apology.

Vienna nodded in acknowledgment and quietly returned to her place.

She let out a small, hidden breath.

Her heart had been pounding from the unexpected question as she observed the Nisti family.

After the brief interruption, Helen handed the documents to Hian, who passed them to Gwyn.

“Gwyn, could you review this?”

“Yes, sir.”

Gwyn accepted the documents respectfully and pulled out a pair of glasses from his pocket.

Flip, flip.

“…”

“…”

Conversation halted. Hian tapped the armrest with his fingers, his gaze wandering around the room.

It seemed he wasn’t inspecting his surroundings but rather searching for something to say.

Helen, for her part, made no effort to break the silence and simply waited patiently.

Clearing his throat, Hian lifted his teacup and asked Helen, “Is there anything you need? As I always say, I’m ready to fulfill any request you might have.”

“You’ve already done so much. I’m fine, really,” Helen replied with a gentle smile.

“Well… if you say so…”

Sip.

Hian tasted the tea before glancing at Gwyn, who was still engrossed in the documents and hadn’t even reviewed half of them.

“This tea is quite good,” Hian remarked, attempting to ease the awkwardness.

Instead, his comment only seemed to highlight the lingering tension in the room.

The conversation was limited to just a few exchanges.

The unexpectedly quiet atmosphere made Vienna uneasy.

She had known from the beginning that she might not learn anything today, but as the moments passed without progress, she couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

It almost felt like she had embarrassed herself by clinging to Helen and crying.

Hian, on the other hand, continued trying to ease the awkwardness.

Rather than simply waiting in silence for their business to conclude, he seemed determined to act more approachable.

Building rapport, after all, could never hurt.

Suddenly, Hian snapped his fingers as if struck by a thought.

“Ah! I heard that a young man I know was admitted to your medical center recently.”

Helen responded with a warm smile, welcoming the conversation.

“Is that so?”

“Yes. Would you happen to remember a young man with injuries on his arm and chest?”

Vienna, who had been staring at the floor with her ears open, subtly glanced up at Hian.

Injuries on the arm and chest.

She knew those wounds too well.

It felt as if she had been stabbed herself.

The scars on her chest, remnants of that ordeal, still tormented her.

Helen replied, “I’m afraid I don’t know every patient personally. Could you provide a name?”

Helen, of course, had a good idea who Hian was referring to.

The man in question had been a significant topic of conversation at the church.

It was no secret that Vienna had clung to him, sobbing uncontrollably.

The story of the man who had nearly died and the stoic Vienna breaking down had spread far and wide.

Still, to confirm her assumption, Helen pressed Hian for more details.

“His name is Starchis. A fine young man. Does that ring a bell?”

Vienna hid her trembling hands behind her back.

At last, it felt like something was beginning to move.

As expected, Hian knew Starchis.

And if Hian knew him, it was highly likely Elza did too.

The nature of their relationship was something she had to uncover.

Her instincts urged her to ask Hian everything she wanted to know, to abandon these small steps and demand answers directly and decisively.

But, of course, she couldn’t do that.

As if sensing Vienna’s turmoil, Helen turned to look at her while replying,

“Starchis, you say? How curious. Vienna, could you come here for a moment?”

Gwyn, who had been flipping through the documents, glanced at Vienna again.

Ignoring his gaze, Vienna approached Helen’s side.

“This young lady is actually quite close to Starchis,” Helen said.

Hian’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Really? What an incredible coincidence! Please, have a seat,” he said with renewed enthusiasm, glad to have found a way to break the awkward tension.

Naturally, Vienna joined the conversation.

Hian continued, “I wanted to express my gratitude for how well he’s recovered. It’s all thanks to the care he received at your medical center.”

“It’s also thanks to your family’s support that we’re able to run so smoothly,” Helen replied, returning the compliment.

“Haha, you’re too kind. So, may I ask—what is your relationship with Starchis?”

This time, Hian turned directly to Vienna. She hesitated but answered.

“...We’re party members who work as gatherers.”

“Party members?”

“Yes.”

“So you enter dungeons together?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve heard from Starchis that it’s an incredibly dangerous job...”

“...It’s fine,” Vienna said shortly.

“And you are...?”

“Vienna.”

“Vienna, huh. Well, you’re much braver than you look.”

Vienna couldn’t gauge just how close Hian and Starchis were.

It was shocking enough that Starchis had been meeting with this nobleman without any of the party members knowing.

But the fact that he’d talked about such personal matters was even more surprising.

Talking about dungeons wasn’t the kind of topic one brought up lightly.

It required not just time, but also a certain level of trust or familiarity.

And Starchis wasn’t the type to casually discuss dungeon-related matters with someone he barely knew.

“By the way, is Starchis always like that?” Hian asked.

“Pardon?”

“I mean, while I do know him, we’ve only recently become acquainted, ha ha. I’m curious about what he’s like normally.”

Vienna sensed something peculiar in his question.

It wasn’t the kind of inquiry someone would make about a mutual acquaintance.

Rather, it felt like Hian was subtly probing to confirm Starchis’s character.

“He’s kind,” Vienna replied simply.

“Ah, I see.”

It had been a while since Vienna had complimented someone.

Naturally, when it came to Starchis, there wasn’t much to say other than praise.

She wouldn’t say such things to his face, of course, but now that he wasn’t here, it was easier.

Still, she couldn’t help but wonder why Hian was asking.

Her curiosity about his relationship with Starchis only grew.

“How exactly do you know Starchis?” Vienna asked cautiously.

“Hmm? Ah ha ha… Well, I’m not sure if I should say this when he’s not here...”

“...?”

Hian hesitated, clearly struggling with what to say next.

Vienna’s curiosity deepened—what could prompt such a reaction to a simple question about how he knew Starchis?

Hian turned to glance at the maids and his butler.

Gwyn shrugged, while one of the maids raised an eyebrow in response.

After gauging their reactions, Hian finally spoke quietly.

“Well... the truth is, my daughter has feelings for Starchis.”

“What?”

Vienna frowned, unable to mask her expression.

It wasn’t appropriate behavior in front of a guest, but she couldn’t stop her face from betraying her emotions.

Another competitor for Starchis’ affection had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.

First, it was their party members.

Then it was Elza.

And now, it was the daughter of a noble family.

Why did he keep attracting rivals for her?

And how far had this noblewoman gone to try to win him over?

“...But what does her liking Starchis have to do with you knowing him?” Vienna pressed, struggling to keep her voice steady.

“Just listen, I’ll explain,” Hian replied. “They met once at a dining hall. My daughter became interested in him and invited him to dinner.”

“And Starchis… accepted the invitation?”

Vienna found herself taking control of the conversation, her questions spilling out before she could stop them.

“He did. It was during that dinner that they got to know each other.”

“Why... didn’t he say a word about this to us?”

Had he accepted the invitation right away?

Why had he gone there?

Could it be that Starchis had taken an interest in Hian’s daughter as well?

But no, Starchis wasn’t the type to cheat, not with Elza in the picture.

While she wrestled with her thoughts, Hian clarified why Starchis had agreed to the meeting.

“The truth is, we owed him a debt.”

“A debt?” Vienna repeated, looking up sharply.

“Yes, you see, the vampire blood that saved Starchis’s life… it was borrowed from our family.”

“...What?”

Vienna froze, her mind spinning as she tried to process the revelation.

So, to summarize:

First, Hian’s daughter—Rose Nisti—developed an interest in Starchis.

Second, amidst this, Starchis collapsed and required the borrowed vampire blood to survive.

Third, that debt led to the dinner invitation.

Vienna’s thoughts were becoming tangled, the facts muddling together in her head.

What was most baffling, however, was the complete absence of Elza’s name in all of this.

She had come to uncover the connection between Starchis and Hian, and by extension, between Hian and Elza.

But no one had even mentioned Elza.

Still trying to untangle her thoughts, Vienna suddenly stood up.

“Ah! Thank you...!” she blurted out.

“Thank me? For what exactly?” Hian asked, tilting his head.

“For the vampire blood… for lending it,” Vienna replied.

After all, the nobleman standing before her had effectively saved Starchis’s life.

In a way, that made him her savior as well.

“Haha, I simply did what needed to be done,” Hian said with a modest chuckle.

Having expressed her gratitude, Vienna returned to the knot of unanswered questions in her mind.

Where did Elza fit into all of this?

Tap, tap.

Lost in thought and staring blankly downward, Vienna was snapped out of her reverie by Sister Helen.

Helen’s eyes conveyed a silent message:

If you have questions, ask them.

Vienna blinked, then steeled herself.

This was, after all, why she was here.

Even if it might be impolite, she had to ask.

“...May I ask a question?”

Hian nodded warmly. “Of course.”

“...Do you know Elza?”

“Elza?”

Hian stroked his beard thoughtfully.

“I’m not sure if the Elza I know is the same as the one you’re referring to.”

“That’s fine. Do you know anyone by that name?”

“Well, yes. She’s right here. Elza?”

Hian turned around and called out a name.

Vienna froze, her mind thrown into chaos.

Wait, Elza is here?

She glanced around frantically, expecting to spot the distinctive pink hair she knew all too well.

But no such color was anywhere to be seen.

There was no way she could have missed her.

There was no way she wouldn’t have noticed Starchis’s girlfriend.

To her complete shock, and contradicting all her expectations, a maid with no trace of pink in her hair stepped forward.

“You called for me?”

Vienna slowly, very slowly, stood from her seat.

“...You don’t… know any other Elza…?”

She couldn’t make sense of the situation before her.

“This is the only Elza I know,” Hian confirmed with a small shrug.

Something was deeply wrong—so wrong it bordered on absurd.

Vienna whispered, almost to herself:

“...You’re Elza…?”

There couldn’t possibly be two people with the same name.

But the Elza standing before her now was not the pink-haired woman she remembered.

So then, who was the pink-haired woman fluttering around Starchis, acting so familiar with him?

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