The Hunted Regressor: My Heretic Saint System

Chapter 183: Let’s Find The Bastard

The world snapped back together around Ignotus in the same instant.

One second, he was about to begin training; the next, he all but materialized in a familiar place, something that he hadn’t noticed yet.

Ignotus didn’t even think; his body moved first, entering a stance, his right hand wielding his sword.

His eyes quickly darted around.

Carpet, books, and the same items he saw once before.

This was an office he really didn’t want to revisit.

Dante’s office.

"Why the Hell—"

’Ignotus, don’t attack! You’re safe!’

Eris’s scream stopped him in his tracks.

That was when Dante shimmered into existence in front of him.

"Sorry for the rough invite."

The bastard smiled.

"I needed you to come through."

Ignotus stared at him unblinkingly.

A vein in his neck throbbed.

He felt incredibly weak in that moment.

Too weak, dragged like a ragdoll, unable to resist.

It was a feeling he hated more than anything.

"...What do you want from me?"

Dante chuckled and stepped back to his desk.

"Relax. You’ve got a Soul most would die for. Your progress is terrifying."

Ignotus shrugged, unimpressed.

"I work hard. Besides, like you, I know my way around Runes."

Dante opened his mouth, closed it, blinked... then finally asked:

"Is that a perk of being that Goddess’s follower?"

"No."

Ignotus’s answer came deadpan.

"I just know things."

That reply had Dante slow down a bit.

Perhaps some part of him was shocked that Ignotus’s inexplicable knowledge, like that of the Demon’s attack, didn’t come from Her, but from some other... source instead.

Another reason for his pause was the sheer weight of the question he wanted to ask.

"...Can you tell me of your Runes? What’s your path?"

Ignotus chuckled at him.

"Will you tell me yours?"

Dante shook his head.

"Why should I? You already know, don’t you?"

"I do."

Ignotus leaned back, his expression flat.

"You pretend to be of Space. You’re not. You’re a Devourer—an Irregular type, what they would call a Heretic. So no, yours isn’t even an actual Element, or at least not of the three categories. But still, it’s noble, not Corrupt like a snake, much like a wolf—a kind Demons can’t mimic."

Dante nodded slowly with each word that left his lips, as if agreeing with them.

"Thanks for the compliments."

Ignotus looked up at the ceiling, let the moment hang, and then exhaled with a smile.

"I’m a... Trickster."

Dante raised a brow.

"So you’ve gotten that Soul Glyph, hm?"

Vague words were his only response. Intentional vagueness. Neither of them wanted to confirm too much of what the other was thinking; the air between them was already thick with unspoken things.

"Yeah."

The Patriarch sat down fully.

"Then by all means, I hope you’ll still stick around your friends after seeing them as they are."

Ignotus appeared amused.

"Don’t worry. I’ve already seen all there is to be seen."

"Good."

Dante matched his student’s posture.

"But how about others? Me, for example?"

"You..."

Ignotus pointed at his own heart.

"You truly love this Academy. I’d say you’re one of the good ones. But you’re also willing to do many evil things for its survival, including letting the students, me for example, die."

Dante barely stopped himself from frowning. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like being naked in front of someone who wasn’t even using Runes, only their eyes and intellect.

"...I’m nothing close to ’good.’ I just want to keep my legacy."

Ignotus chuckled.

"Really now? You say that after failing to catch the mole that resulted in this mess in the first place? And yes, while your lot might’ve said nothing of a mole, I’m sure that there is one."

They held each other in calculating silence, two predators wondering if the other was worth biting.

Both understood something very real:

Sometimes, letting a bridge burn was smarter than watching the wood rot.

Even if that bridge was... unique.

"Kuhm!"

Dante coughed loudly and sat straighter, brushing the tension away so very easily.

"Well then. I know that you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, so tell me this..."

He spread his hands.

"How would you go about finding the mole?"

Ignotus’s smile widened.

"Oh, that’s simple."

It was the kind that meant trouble.

"You’d just..."

...

The plan spilled out between them fast, and by the time they finished talking it through, the two of them had narrowed it all down to three suspects.

Three people.

One traitor.

A direct confrontation?

That would be pointless.

The mole was too careful. The moment they sensed the walls closing in, they’d slit their own throat before Dante could get answers. So they needed to catch the mole before they even realized they were caught.

Which meant something Ignotus excelled at:

Setting a trap.

The air in the office shifted as a shadowed figure—one of Dante’s men—silently approached from behind and handed Dante a small folded note.

Opening it, he read it slowly and then looked back at Ignotus.

"So we feed them this false information?"

Ignotus casually nodded.

"The mole probably already knows that we’re searching. Making that public won’t hurt."

He pointed at the note in Dante’s hand.

"What we do next is simple: each suspect gets a different version of our ’plan’ to catch them. Something only they know. Whoever leaks it to the Demons... is the soon-to-be dead bastard."

Dante raised a brow, genuinely impressed.

"You really are a Trickster, hm. And yes, each message will be delivered privately."

"Good."

Ignotus rose from his chair.

"The details don’t matter all that much: the outcome’s the same. But still, it needs to be believable, so tell me."

Dante passed the note to him.

"I’ll have one receive information about a delivery route for weapon stockpiles. Another will get a plan about drawing out rats and burying them in the closest neutral zone. And the last one... will get a surprise ambush on a convoy near a Hell entrance."

Ignotus closed his eyes briefly, repeating each version in his head to briefly test their logic.

"...Not bad. These are believable. Nothing that would raise suspicion at least."

Dante shrugged.

"Yes, they get the job done."

"When will you send them?"

"By morning. I need to prepare properly."

"Oh, before your ’woe is me’ speech tomorrow?"

Ignoring that completely, Dante stood up from his chair with a long exhale:

"Let’s just find the bastard."