The Shepherds Are Dense

Chapter 130: I Am With You

Aiwass keenly sensed Lily’s descent into sorrow and anguish.Her heart ached, as if pierced by needles and scorched by fire.

Yet, she didn’t cry or show signs of tears.

Instead, her lips curled slightly, attempting a smile that came out strained and pained.

“What’s wrong?”

Aiwass asked softly, concern in his voice.

Lily shook her head, silent.

She seemed exhausted, drained of energy to even speak.

A sense of desolation and defeat clung to her, like a homeless spirit, hollow and weightless.

“—Who’s Antler?”

Aiwass quickly pinpointed the issue.

Lily paused, then answered faintly.

“Minister Droste.”

Unlike before, when she’d referred to him with complex emotions as “that man” or “my birth father,” her tone was now cold, detached, using his name directly.

“—Tell me about it.”

Aiwass pulled Lily to sit by the lamp.

The ritual had a one-hour limit, and nearly half had passed.

But he didn’t rush to find the Holy Lance or pursue the remaining two.

Preventing others’ success was less important than tending to his companion’s heart.

“Sorrow, pain, hatred… these are like wine, growing richer with time.”

Aiwass said gently.

“But if you taste them early and share them with others, they can become a bittersweet lightness.”

“He said…”

Lily hesitated, then spoke, unable to hold back.

She’d always wanted to confide in someone.

When she’d spoken with Princess Isabel, the princess had raged upon learning Lily’s father was Minister Droste.

Lily had quietly comforted her, even defending her father.

A romantic affair was merely a personal moral failing.

But an illegitimate child was different.

Illegitimate children brought dishonor and complications to a family.

Accepting them risked favoritism, threatening the inheritance of legitimate heirs and tainting the family’s bloodline in others’ eyes.

It sparked conflicts, often ending familial bonds.

Yet, abandoning them left them vulnerable to exploitation by enemies, who could use them to attack the family, even without the family name.

An illegitimate child’s mere existence brought chaos and stigma.

They were innocent, yet faced scorn and bullying if brought into the family, manipulation if left outside, or dismissal of their achievements as favoritism due to their blood.

Princess Isabel didn’t know that other ministers also hid their illegitimate children, stripping them of surnames and sending them to other families as servants.

This wasn’t uncommon, but their silenced origins made it hard to trace where they ended up.

So, Lily had initially defended Droste, feeling her life in the Moriarty household wasn’t bad.

Old Moriarty treated her well, allowing her to read.

Young Master Aiwass, whom she’d cared for since childhood, was kind and thoughtful, even securing her a spot to audit at the Royal Law University at her request.

When Isabel criticized Droste, Lily thought he wasn’t bad.

Her stable, happy life—free from scheming, scorn, or bullying—seemed due to his choice of a good family.

But now, Lily realized it wasn’t Droste’s doing.

Even as Aiwass’s personal maid, practically half a Moriarty, Droste still feared her visibility at the university, willing to hire an assassin to kill her to avoid exposure of her illegitimacy.

This showed the Droste and Moriarty families weren’t close.

Her kind treatment in the Moriarty household wasn’t due to her father’s influence.

It was simply because she’d met good people.

This realization chilled her heart.

Her birth father had killed her mother and now sought to murder her.

Yet, she’d harbored a mix of hatred, gratitude, curiosity, grievance, and longing toward him.

Now, those emotions had crystallized into killing intent.

She’d thanked the wrong person.

The only one truly deserving of gratitude, the only one worth repaying, had been by her side all along.

How laughable—she’d thought her father felt something for her.

“…I see.”

Aiwass nodded after hearing her story.

“I’ll help you handle this. Let me think…”

He fell into thought, then said softly.

“I won’t let him advance.

But don’t act yet.

To him, you’re now Greygreen’s subordinate, taking his assassination order.

Stay quiet to avoid suspicion—it keeps you safer.

Within a month, he must die.

“If you can’t do it outside, leave it to me.

I’ll kill him for you.

But if you want to do it yourself, I’ll save that final act for you.

Forcing a child to kill her father is inhumane.

But if that child seeks vengeance for her murdered mother or strikes back to protect herself, it’s just.

“Either way, I’ll protect you.

You’re practically raised by the Moriartys.

If you can’t be a Droste, be a Moriarty.

You know our foster father may be gone.

Whether I or Edward inherit, I’ll grant you the Moriarty name.”

Aiwass didn’t say “cry if you want.”

Instead, he said earnestly.

“Don’t cry.

That man doesn’t deserve your tears.

If you can’t hold back, laugh instead.

Not for the past, but for the future.”

He recalled a poem by Prince Lloyd and recited softly:

“One day, I’ll break these leaden chains;

I’ll rise with the smoke, free as the wind;

I’ll have my shining day, radiant as stars, glowing like moonlight…”

The poem felt perfectly suited for Lily now.

The hidden observer binding her fate would be removed, and she’d gain freedom.

One day, she’d rise and shine—not as “Droste’s bastard,” but as Lily herself.

Aiwass looked at her, saying seriously.

“You should rejoice for such a future, laugh aloud.

If you still worry, it’s only because vengeance isn’t complete.

So, don’t fear.

I am with you.”

He stood, stretching lightly.

Lily rose in sync, vanishing silently into the shadows.

They’d talked for nearly fifteen minutes, leaving about a third of the ritual’s time.

But Aiwass showed no tension.

“No Holy Lance yet.”

He decided.

“First, we’ll collect some interest.

—Shadow Demon, lead the way.

I’m going to kill.”

“…”

For some reason, the shadow demon reverted to its hoarse, low voice before Lily.

“Such sweet vengeance, such fresh flesh…

You finally bare your fangs, revealing your true evil nature.

I’m delighted, my master.

I’ll kill for you… keep killing—everyone.”