I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

Chapter 293: A Very Unexpected Reunion

The door to the High Priest’s bedroom closed shut. To avoid the prying eyes of the imperial knights, Cherion and Zarius had been forced to navigate the sprawling hallways with absolute precision.

Fortunately, a scheduled guard rotation had provided the perfect window. Moving like shadows, they had slipped past the clanking armor of the patrol units, guided entirely by the High Priest’s silent, knowing hand.

Within the private chamber, Cherion and Zarius sat opposite the High Priest.

Instead of displaying the tense urgency one would expect after everything that had happened, the old man simply clasped his hands together, his face a mask of composure. He turned his gaze toward Cherion, his eyes warm and remarkably gentle.

"How have you been doing, Lord Cherion?" the High Priest asked, his voice remained smooth and composed, entirely out of place given the midnight crisis. "I trust your health has been well since your arrival in the capital?"

Cherion kept his posture rigid, his brain actively working to decode the old man’s bizarrely casual demeanor. "So far, so good," Cherion replied dryly, crossing his arms. "Though, admittedly, things would have been a lot more pleasant if we could remove the tiny little detail of Princess Iryna getting poisoned under everyone’s watch."

The High Priest let out a soft sigh, nodding in understanding. "A tragic truth, indeed. The palace has become a nest of unpredictable storms." He paused, his eyes shifting slightly to study Cherion’s face. "To be quite honest, I found myself deeply worried when I first received word that you were traveling to the North. The winter lands are harsh, and its people are notoriously unyielding to outsiders. But... it seems Duke Zarius has been treating you with great care."

Beside him, Zarius didn’t utter a single word, but his actions spoke volumes. Zarius scooted slightly closer, his hand reaching out to take Cherion’s hand. His grip was warm, solid, and fiercely protective, a silent declaration to the highest religious authority in Auzelian that Cherion was under the absolute shield of the North.

Feeling the comforting warmth of the Duke’s palm, Cherion’s tense shoulders relaxed just a fraction. He looked up at Zarius, a genuine, soft smile gracing his lips. "Yes," Cherion said softly, his voice full of quiet certainty. "The Duke has been absolutely great to me."

When Cherion turned his head back to face the High Priest, his expression instantly flattened, hardening into a serious stare. He didn’t have the time or the patience to beat around the bush in a locked room.

The High Priest caught the look and offered a deeply nostalgic, gentle smile. "It brings me profound joy to see that you have grown up so wonderfully well, Lord Cherion."

"Your Holiness," Cherion cut in. "Let’s cut to the chase now. Let’s get straight into the real business."

The High Priest exhaled a soft chuckle. "If you are worried that I will run to King Alderon or the others to tell about your actions tonight, you may put those fears to rest. I have absolutely no intention of telling anyone that you were the one who healed Princess Iryna. I understand the weight of your position, and I understand why you must remain in the shadows."

Cherion blinked, slightly taken aback by the casual reassurance, but he didn’t let his guard down. "Thank you for that," he said, his voice lowering as he stepped forward. "But that still doesn’t answer my question. Back in the princess’s room, you said you were looking for me because you hoped I would be ’willing to use my healing power now.’ What exactly did you mean by that?"

The High Priest’s eyes locking onto Cherion with a look of profound, bittersweet irony.

"It seems," the High Priest said calmly, "that you truly don’t remember that we met once, Lord Cherion."

Cherion’s breath caught in his throat. ...What? His mind instantly went into overdrive, desperately digging through his memories of the novel. But yep, nothing. He searched every corner of his mind, but there was absolutely nothing about Cherion x High Priest.

Despite the internal panic screaming in his head, Cherion forced his facial muscles to remain completely calm. He kept his expression entirely blank and unbothered, simply waiting in silence for the old man to keep talking. If he didn’t understand what the High Priest was talking about, the worst thing he could do was guess and give himself away.

Seeing Cherion’s stoic face, the High Priest let out a quiet, understanding sigh, shaking his head gently. "Ah, it is only natural, I suppose. You were just a small child back then. Barely reaching my waist. I guess you were simply too young to retain any memory of that day."

Inside, a massive wave of pure relief and joyful triumph washed over Cherion. Oh, thank sweet heaven, he cheered silently, his mind practically doing backflips behind his calm eyes.

He felt an immense surge of gratitude for the old man’s logical conclusion. It was absolutely perfect. If the High Priest fully believed that Cherion had just naturally forgotten the meeting due to childhood amnesia, then Cherion didn’t have to fake anything or scramble to invent an alibi.

It made total sense for him to look completely clueless because, realistically, a six-year-old wouldn’t remember the complicated details of a temple visit anyway. He could play the role of the oblivious, bewildered young noble to absolute perfection without raising a single red flag.

Outside, however, Cherion didn’t let a single trace of his internal celebration leak onto his face. He kept his expression perfectly guarded, tilting his head with just the right amount of cautious, innocent confusion.

Cherion could feel Zarius’s grip on his hand grow slightly firmer, the Duke’s protective instincts flaring at the mention of Cherion’s mysterious childhood.

"Too young for what?" Cherion demanded, his voice dropping into a dangerous whisper. "Why on earth would I ever be brought to the Holy Temple?"

The High Priest rose slowly and approached the tall stained-glass window. Beneath the fractured colors of the glass, the cold silver moonlight spilled over the kingdom, peaceful and beautiful, almost painfully unaware of the danger lurking within its walls.

"Because of your power," the High Priest answered softly, his voice carrying a heavy grief.

A suffocating, dead silence plummeted over the room. Cherion felt a sudden, icy shiver run down his spine, his hands growing cold inside his pockets. The original Cherion had been brought there as a child. Because of the golden light. Because of the sovereign, absolute restoration power vibrating right beneath his skin.

Before Cherion could even begin to make sense of what he had just heard, the High Priest turned back to face him, his expression growing incredibly solemn as he dropped the final, crushing truth.

"Your parents secretly brought you to me because they desperately wanted me to find a way to completely get rid of that healing power."