Chapter 13: The Key (1)
A prayer for these heinous heretics who had just tried to kill us.
“Well, I never . . . !”
My words seemed to shock Daena somewhat, her face looking as though she had been struck.
I wondered if it was a bit much for them, who had nearly died just now, but her expression was not one of amazement or anger, but rather of surprise at the realization of an important fact that she had completely forgotten.
A prayer for a sinner.
It was something that had been part of the doctrine, but these days when people were dying like flies, it had become a meaningless phrase that was only followed by a very few hardliners.
” . . . Even a wicked man will enter paradise if he truly repents.”
Valent nodded his head, deeply impressed, as he recited a line from the doctrine.
“Well said, brother. Well said.”
From acolyte to brother, huh?
I watched the two of them, shrugging my shoulders as I recalled the words of a paladin who had cut down a wicked warlock five hundred years ago.
“God is merciful. Even to the most wicked of sinners.”
Swoosh.
Daena nodded solemnly at my words, then lowered her mace and began to pray in earnest.
I watched her quietly.
I wondered if there was any virtue in prayer, if it held any real power. Honestly, it was pretty pointless. It didn’t seem like warlocks are going to repent and die.
But it might be useful in calming the minds of the two candidates who were exhausted from an unfamiliar battle.
After all, the biggest effect of prayer is that it makes the person praying feel better.
I watched the two of them praying with their eyes closed, and then approached the corpse of the warlock lying a short distance away.
Pretending to pray, I crouched down in front of him with my back to Daena and Valent and began examining his body.
The warlock’s body, which had been subjected to a relentless attack without even a minimal amount of holy power, was not something that even the most tolerant of people would want to look at for long.
But I began to search the body without any change in my expression.
A body that had already lost its soul.
The soul of this warlock, who had lost his life without taking any special precautions like I had, would have been dragged straight to purgatory.
It was the bitter end of a contract with the devil.
” . . . . . .”
The body was torn, wrinkled, and sticky, but I searched the inside of the robe as if I was used to it.
Swoosh.
I soon found what I was looking for as I searched the warlock’s body.
It was the distinct bluish-green mark that appeared on the body of those who had taken the special water from the underground springs of Mount Fehern for a long period of time.
‘Bergezia Cult.’
A group that had almost disappeared after I had a run-in with a warlock when I was active.
Of course, the warlock had been me.
‘So the little rats have been crawling around again.’
I chuckled.
A half-assed fake cult. Whether they managed to survive or not didn’t really matter to me now.
But if they had made their headquarters on Mount Fehern again, that would be a different story.
That was where my legacy lay dormant.
It was something I had wanted to find first after becoming an inquisitor.
‘Well, now I know where I’m going first.’
I thought to myself and slowly stood up. Daena and Valent, who had finished praying around the same time, slowly approached me and then stopped when they saw the warlock’s body.
I tilted my head as I watched the two of them looking at the body, which was far from anything that could be described as a human body.
“Is this your first time seeing a real warlock’s corpse?”
The two of them backed away slowly from the corpse, which was emitting black smoke and a terrible stench that instinctively aroused disgust, and replied.
“Y, Yes. . . uughh!”
“Well, it seems that Brother Luciel has finished praying for this sinner.”
I chuckled as I watched Daena and Valent backing away.
Yeah, they’re still acolytes, after all.
Judging from the way they had wielded their weapons without hesitation against mere human minions, it seemed that they were not completely inexperienced in actual combat. But it seemed that this was their first time facing a real warlock who had made a pact with the devil.
I opened my mouth slowly as I watched them.
“Well, then, let’s go.”
Their faces, which had been shadowed by the fading light, brightened at my words.
🔹🔹🔹
Nothing special happened on our way back to the Inquisition. Daena and Valent were rather quiet on the way back, as if they had thought about many things, unlike when they had first left Herentica and come here.
Solemnly.
Daena, who seemed to be silently reviewing the battle in the underground passage, looked at me curiously as I wrote something on the paper I had bought before leaving the village.
“What are you writing?”
I held up the quill and paper to her and said,
“A mission report. It’s more effective to organize the things you’ve experienced in clear and well-ordered writing than in vague feelings and words.”
” . . . Ah.”
Valent, who had been swinging his sword seriously, nodded his head when he heard that and stopped moving.
“I’ve learned something else, brother. As expected, those from noble families are outstanding.”
“Well.”
To be precise, I should say that it comes from experience, not birth.
I shrugged and began writing the report again.
🔹🔹🔹
A few days later, the two of them arrived in Herentica, their expressions a bit brighter after passing the final test and seeming to be lost in thought.
It was obvious that we had completed the mission perfectly, or even more than perfectly.
Now, their future as inquisitors serving God was assured.
Of course, the path to that future would be somewhat difficult.
” . . . Based on the above, it is highly likely that the guards were bribed. We sealed off the basement without informing the others in the village, and in the process, we killed one warlock and fourteen minions who appeared to belong to a cult. There were no casualties in the process, and based on a comprehensive judgment━”
Marcell Pavlino, the Chairman of the Inquisition, who had been reading the report I had written on the way to Herentica, looked up at me briefly.
“. . . . . .”
I shrugged as if to ask what the problem was, and Daena and Valent cleared their throats awkwardly. The head of the Inquisition stared at us with an unreadable expression, then looked down at the report again.
“━Therefore, it is considered necessary to conduct an additional investigation. That is all. Death to the Heretics.”
Thud.
He placed the neatly written report on the desk and remained silent for a moment before slowly opening his mouth.
“Dispatch an investigation team to Medlen immediately. Good work.”
” . . . . . . !”
Daena and Valent’s faces lit up. The head of the Inquisition’s words were tantamount to officially confirming that they had completed the mission brilliantly.
It was something to be happy about, as their long period as candidates had finally come to an end.
Of course, from my point of view, it had been less than a month.
“Congratulations, brothers.”
“Considering that you are still candidates, this is a truly great achievement.”
“We expect great things from you in the future.”
As the head of the Inquisition finished speaking, the other inquisitors and friars sitting at the long table looked at us and offered their congratulations.
There were no objections, as this was a clean and perfect ending that did not even require the lengthy examination that was usually given to those who had only vaguely succeeded in their missions.
Even inquisitor Lefra, who could be called Anton’s disciple, simply folded her arms without saying anything.
” . . . . . .”
As I looked at them, my eyes met Anton’s, who was sitting in his chair with his hands folded on the desk.
Nod.
He nodded slightly at me, and the Support Department Chief Baroque, who was sitting next to him, chuckled and gave me a thumbs up.
Clap, clap, clap, clap!
The applause of the others poured down on the three of us who had completed the mission first and most perfectly.
As I listened to the applause that was meant to congratulate the inquisitors who would walk the thorny path, I suddenly looked up at the sky.
Would I be able to achieve the goal of my life this time, which I had failed to achieve in my previous life due to numerous constraints and wrong choices?
‘I don’t know.’
But I was sure of one thing.
The foundation that I was building now, as I took my first steps, was incomparably stronger than before, even though I had only a fraction of the power I had before.
And this small beginning would be the key to achieving my goal.
🔹🔹🔹
Underground of Mount Fehern, the main hall of the Bergezia Cult.
An eerie green light flickered in the room, which was filled with the musty smell of mushrooms and an ominous aura.
In the middle of the damp room stood an old man, clutching a whitish staff that appeared to be made from the bones of something huge that was not human.
Hiss.
Before his eyes, something wrapped in a mysterious, shimmering aura was floating slightly above the desk.
The colors that were difficult to define seemed to be embedded in a sphere made of hundreds, thousands of pieces of glass shards.
It had the appearance of something that instinctively aroused a sense of mystery.
“Hoo. . . . . .”
The old man clutched his staff tightly and looked at it with greedy eyes.
Knock knock.
Swish.
The old man covered it with a black cloth as he heard a knock.
“Come in.”
The one who opened the door and entered was a warlock from the Bergezia Cult. Wearing a black robe, he greeted the old man respectfully and then said something in a low voice.
” . . . The contact has been lost.”
News that contact had been lost with a warlock who had gone to a small village called Medlen.
The old man’s face darkened.
In this era, when there were plenty of half-baked warlocks who were not real warlocks, it took a lot of time and sacrifice to raise a single warlock, but from the perspective of the cult as a whole, the disappearance of a single warlock was not a big loss.
The old man was worried about something else.
“Do you think those damn inquisitors have caught wind of it?”
Those who worshiped God.
The problem was that those damn fanatics who would jump into anything related to the devil would be a real pain in the ass if they caught wind of this place.
The Bergezia Cult was not yet a firmly established group. It would take more time and effort to put down solid roots deep underground.
“We are currently investigating.”
The old man glared at the warlock, who bowed his head in response, and then waved his hand as if he was annoyed.
“I see. You may leave.”
“Yes.”
Click.
” . . . Incompetent fools.”
The old man glared at the door that the warlock had respectfully closed and then removed the black cloth that was covering the table.
Yes, it takes time and effort for the cult to establish itself.
But perhaps the relic in front of him could solve both of those problems.
Snap!
A fierce flame burst from the end of the staff as the old man slowly brought it forward. This unknown relic was still rejecting his touch.
Creak.
The old man narrowed his eyes as he looked at the charred end of the staff.
He had tried every method he knew, but he could not break the seal on this unknown relic.
He had thought about asking the powerful warlocks in the catacombs for advice, wondering if they knew something, but he had not put it into practice.
Warlocks were basically people who would do anything to achieve their goals.
He might as well have invited trouble by revealing the existence of this relic to them.
“But soon. . . . . .”
The old man turned his head and looked at the altar in front of him.
The cult had collected a considerable amount of offerings in the meantime.
If he offered all of that, he would surely be able to reach a higher-level devil than he could now. Then, perhaps, he would be able to figure out the true nature of this relic.
And he might be able to find out what the key was to unlocking the tightly sealed relic.
” . . . . . .”
The underground, where a bluish-green light flickered.
The old man turned his head again towards the sphere that was rotating beautifully in the void.