Chapter 14
Returning to the VVIP room at Cedric's, Callias sat on the bed, gazing at the jewelry box with a prudent expression.
Upon opening it slightly, a refreshing and warm aura wafted out.
A Saint's Holy Stone.
It now rested in his hands.
"An escort mission……"
The one who readily handed over the Holy Stone was a high-ranking noble of Karpe.
Count Artemion von Ormian.
A rather sudden and clandestine proposal.
But the compensation was too great.
"You simply need to escort the goods I am transporting."
"Where to?"
"Orieorlo."
"……That place occupied by the rebel army?"
"Yes, that is correct."
Count Artemion answered confidently.
As if there was no need to hide it.
His confidence that no matter the difficulty, Callias would be unable to refuse his proposal seeped through.
Callias understood his ulterior motives but did not show it.
"Is that all?"
"Yes. Simple, isn't it?"
It likely would not be simple.
It was obvious from the way he readily offered something of this magnitude.
It was a danger that would skirt the line between life and death.
Indeed, from the moment he grasped the Holy Stone, the thing's color changed to red.
Finishing his thoughts, Callias clenched the Holy Stone tightly in his hand.
Ssshhh.
A Holy Stone filled with a Saint's divine power.
A portion of it began to seep into Callias's body. An intense power latent within the gentleness could be felt.
His body glowed with a sacred silver light, filling the bedroom with radiance.
"What tremendous power."
As the light faded, Callias's grey eyes slowly opened.
A sacredness that made him feel his own divine power was less than an ant's urine.
He could feel that difference in quality.
But the divine power that had entered his body returned to the Holy Stone once again.
As if the divine power itself harbored a will, it felt as though it rejected his body.
Without leaving so much as a trace, it returned to its original place, as if saying this was not where it belonged.
"Impressive."
Callias was thrilled.
To think a Holy Stone of merely this size possessed such power.
When merely a handful of the Holy Stone's divine power entered his body.
He was thrilled by a sense of omnipotence.
Intoxicated by the hubris and arrogance of feeling as though he could do anything.
As it slipped away, he even felt a strange sense of depletion, unable to hide his excitement.
Callias immediately placed the Holy Stone back in the box and sat in proper meditation.
Having tasted a Saint's divine power, there was some progress.
'Thread.'
The divine power of the Holy Stone was like a thick thread that had been well woven, woven, and twisted.
From the outside, it looked like a thin silk thread, but looking within, it was a densely woven and twisted thread.
Looking a bit deeper into it.
It felt like single threads woven in a honeycomb pattern gathering to form a strand.
It was as if the divine power had been divided at the molecular level, compressed, and formed thus.
Callias immediately decided to try replicating it. Even if not perfect, he could roughly imitate it, couldn't he?
After an hour passed like that.
"Damn it."
He cursed.
It was still too high a wall for him.
He couldn't even manage to replicate it.
Moving in clumps was his current level.
He couldn't create the delicate structure like the divine power contained in the Holy Stone.
Well, of course.
If he could do that from the start, they wouldn't be called Saints for nothing.
But that didn't mean there was no harvest.
He could roughly see the directionality of divine power.
A path was visible. Now it was a problem that effort and time would solve.
"Doing this should also help with the training of Manhwa Bongyuk."
Thanks to this, it felt like he could somewhat see the path for Manhwa Bongyuk's divine art as well.
It was regrettable, but there was no need to be disappointed.
He had grasped the thread, and if he continued like this, he would soon reach the 1st Peak of Manhwa Bongyuk.
Callias placed the jewelry box containing the Holy Stone into his Holy Scar.
"It will be dangerous, but it can't be helped. I have no choice but to do it."
An escort to Orieorlo.
If it seemed too dangerous, he could just run.
Besides himself, formidable experts would gather to form the escort unit.
He was probably trying to intimidate and cow the enemies with the name of Jervan.
That would be all Count Artemion expected from Callias.
The name of Jervan was that heavy.
"Not telling me who the escort target is a flaw, but……."
He could roughly guess.
Count Artemion himself was a character from his own head, after all.
So the target he would attach an escort to and send to Orieorlo as well.
"It must be that beast."
A character from his mind.
Callias scratched his head vigorously and then shook off the thought.
Anyway, he had agreed to give his answer regarding the escort in three days.
Artemion, who handed over the Holy Stone trusting in the name of Jervan, probably thought he would accept already.
Regardless, there were many things to prepare during that time.
'First, manufacturing holy water.'
He had purchased all the related equipment.
A makeshift manufacturing facility could be set up in some corner of this spacious room.
Since he wasn't planning to make proper holy water, this would be sufficient. He had Brance and Dexter setting up the equipment, so it would be done in three days once they started.
[Tears of Valterus] x 8
[Fang of Chachilagini] x 20
[Dew Poison of Karma] x 15
[Poison Sac of Orte] x 20
He had bought adequate quantities.
Even if he didn't make holy water, poisons were very useful things to have.
Anyway, mixing those in certain proportions would roughly complete the holy water. If he checked periodically with his Three-colored Eyes while making it, there would be no difficulties.
He wasn't trying to make holy water close to perfection either, and most of the poisons would be absorbed by the Tears of Valterus.
The rest was just a matter of injecting divine power. Simple.
'Next is Dexter, I suppose.'
Brance could just be taken along, but Dexter was ambiguous.
One porter was enough.
Brance could die anytime without much consequence, a negligible existence, but Dexter was different.
He was a necessary existence.
A fellow who shouldn't die easily either.
"I'll have to leave him to Cedric."
Providing him with a suitable residence and workshop should suffice. Dexter wouldn't think of running away with just that.
One characteristic of dwarves was their tendency to dislike owing debts of the heart, so if shown such grace, they would try to repay it even if left alone.
By building trust like that…….
'I might be able to find out where other dwarves are located.'
He had to do that.
Only then would he be able to survive.
"Hmm…… and next."
Only after organizing the urgent matters he needed to handle here in his mind did he read the note placed by the bed.
"A heretic…… I don't recall committing any heresy, though."
He had already met Cedric on his way back to the room and heard the story.
He had shown a somewhat meaningful smile at the word heresy, but for Callias, there was nothing particularly notable about it.
'But I don't understand why he's coming to me to find a holy relic.'
Yechel's Inquisitor Raiburn.
He was calling him a heretic and pursuing him, saying he was searching for a holy relic.
A heretic who stole the Order's holy relic.
"Don't tell me he's mistaking my taking the Tears of Valterus for a holy relic?"
Nah, surely not. They wouldn't make that mistake.
"It's probably a scheme to pin someone else's sins on me."
To cover up a major incident, wouldn't they shoot all the arrows at a blameless sacrificial lamb?
Furthermore, Callias was the Order's black sheep.
The prodigal of the Count's house.
He possessed the perfect notoriety for having crimes pinned on him.
This too would be part of that.
"They say I'm a body that brings misfortune. Even staying still, death comes flocking."
But what could he do even if it was unjust.
The one who created Callias with such a fate was himself, after all.
So he had no choice but to accept it.
No choice but to overcome it.
'Master of Akasha who sows poison.'
Yechel's Inquisitor Raiburn.
A rather tricky opponent.
The best option was not to encounter him.
The second best was to flee.
The worst was to confront him.
If he had to confront him…… Callias looked at Arusando.
"I might need to find a new sword."
Knock knock.
"My lord! The pharmaceutical manufacturing equipment is all set up!"
"Understood. I'll be there shortly."
Whatever he did, holy water came first.
You could never have too much insurance.
* * *
Count Artemion's hotel.
In the hotel restaurant, he was cutting a large piece of meat with a fork and knife.
The lamb tenderloin and accompanying sauce tickled his tongue like a wave in his mouth.
His throat, as if lubricated, swallowed it lightly.
"The taste is excellent."
"Count, are you sure about this?"
"About what, Baron Manon?"
"The prodigal of Jervan, I mean."
"Ah, prodigal? Watch your mouth. Insulting Jervan is tantamount to disgracing the kingdom."
"B-but…… you know, don't you?"
"It's not because I'm unaware of that that I handed the Holy Stone to Sir Callias."
He needed the value of the name.
It wasn't him that was needed.
The immense honor built up by his bloodline.
Only that was needed.
"I merely needed the name of that family who stood together in the kingdom's founding. For using the name of Jervan which has no connections, that small Holy Stone is rather cheap."
"But……."
"Worry not. Jervan will accept my proposal for the Holy Stone before his eyes, but in the near future, he will dearly pay the price for being seduced by the sweetness before him."
Even if he was a disowned son put forth by Jervan.
He was undeniably the eldest son of Jervan.
"Count Jervan cannot simply pretend not to know either."
No matter how much of a disowned son he was.
Blood is thicker than water.
* * *
"What is Callias doing?"
"He hasn't left his room for three days. He's probably trying to avoid the Inquisitor's eyes."
A heretic.
Branded as such, it was understandable.
Cedric thought about how Callias, bearing the Jervan surname, had become a heretic, but there was only one answer.
He stole the Order's holy relic.
For what reason?
And why was he telling him the location of the Twin Gods' holy relic?
Why did he know about the Twin Gods?
Thinking about it, the answer revealed itself.
'Right, he must have been captivated by the ruggedness of the fist and horn rather than the sword.'
From what he found out, Callias had no talent for the sword from a young age.
The pressure of the family, the public's condemnation.
He must have been cowed by all that. Then he must have chanced upon stories about the Twin Gods.
Even as he departed on pilgrimage as a pilgrim, he must have sought out tales of the Twin Gods.
That's why he knew the location where the holy relic resided.
Callias was probably.
'Seeking to become a fellow believer of the Twin Gods like me.'
Otherwise, he wouldn't have made such an absurd remark about wanting to become brothers.
Only then did all his actions make sense.
But it was still too soon to give his faith, too early to become brothers.
There were still many questionable aspects.
"Are they keeping their mouths shut?"
"Yes, just as you ordered, we gave large sums of money to the guests who came to the casino. With Sir Cedric's prestige, they won't be leaking anything."
"It's a matter for brothers. Make sure it's handled definitively."
"Understood."
Click.
After his confidant left.
"Brothers……."
The word brother that slipped out unknowingly fit quite well in his mouth for some reason.
Having grown up as an only child from a young age, he thought the word brother would feel awkward and ridiculous.
Even he found it absurd.
"The unmanned island in the south. Barbeluem."
An island with a name he had never heard of in his life.
But Callias had spoken with certainty. A hidden island.
That there would be the Horn Plate, an Oracle's holy relic, and believers serving the Twin Gods.
"I'll have to be away for about a year."
Given the distance, it seemed that much time would be needed. Since it was a hidden island at the very southern end.
He couldn't be certain, but everything was a matter for after he confirmed it with his own eyes.
"No time to dawdle. I'll finish the minimum preparations and go immediately."
If he could just find the holy relic, he could engrave the word brother in his heart.
"Kahaha! Let's make some preparations!"
* * *
"Huu."
His whole body was drenched in sweat.
He had been injecting divine power in the makeshift manufacturing room for three days.
He was exhausted to the bone.
He had injected it while slowly maintaining the intensity of his divine power.
When his divine power was depleted, he slept, and when he woke up, he injected again—for three days.
"It wasn't meaningless."
It was a meaningful endeavor.
Thanks to that, before his eyes sat six bottles of holy water overflowing with sacredness.
Each bottle contained holy water with one Tear of Valterus. The quality of the divine power was low, so he couldn't completely remove the impurities, but holy water was still holy water.
He had failed about twice, but for a first attempt, this was excellent.
Thus consoling himself, he called Brance who was waiting outside.
"Yes!"
"Open your chest."
"Y-yes?! O-open my chest……? H-here?"
Were the words a bit strange? Brance's eyes were filled with confusion.
"I mean show me your wound."
"Ah…… yes!"
He immediately pulled open his chest area, revealing the sword wound from his encounter with Lutens.
It was a shallow wound that was healing, but pressing it with a finger would cause blood to seep out.
"Ugh."
"Shut up, Brance."
I opened the cap of the holy water, applied some to my hand, and smeared it on Brance's wound.
Then the effect appeared immediately.
"Grrrrragh! Uwaaaagh!!"
Brance's screams emerged.
"Ah, it hurts! It hurts like I'm dying! I'm dying! No, I'm fucking dying! Don't touch my body!!"
Brance convulsed as if the stinging was driving him mad, rolling on the ground.
He soon frothed at the mouth and his eyes rolled back. It seemed to hurt tremendously.
'A side effect?'
But seeing smoke rising from the wound, the effect was certainly good.
He would recover in a few hours.
Leaving Brance lying motionless as if he had fainted, he smiled with satisfaction.