Chapter 147 - A Great Legacy (4)

Seventy million Stones.

A sum so enormous that hearing it made my heart pound. Still, I forced myself to calm down and continued the conversation. There would be plenty of time to celebrate once the money was actually in my hands.

“Will this letter serve as proof?”

Crovits took the letter and slowly read it from the top. His expression changed completely, and he said nothing for a long while.

“... Is something wrong?”

“Ah, forgive me. If this is true... it is a matter of tremendous importance to our order. It is not that I doubt you, Mr. Jandel, but would you mind waiting inside for a moment?”

“Very well.”

Paul Crovits led us to what looked like a reception room inside the temple, then hurried away. Something about needing to verify the handwriting before informing his superiors?

“Surely... nothing's going wrong, nyah?”

“Haha, of course not. They simply want to verify everything before speaking with us.”

“Murad is right. You've all read it yourselves. Given what the letter says, it's only natural.”

The wait was longer than expected. Just as we were beginning to entertain other possibilities, Paul Crovits returned.

“My apologies. Circumstances have forced me to keep you waiting far too long.”

“Now, please come with me. Everyone is waiting.”

He led us to a chapel on the second floor, a place reserved for ordained priests rather than ordinary worshippers.

“I was told only members of the order could enter here...”

“How could we call you outsiders when the goddess herself has brought us together?”

Watching Crovits answer Rotmiller's question put my fears to rest. He would never act this way if they had judged the letter a forgery.

CREAK.

Crovits opened the door, revealing the chapel beyond. It was quite spacious, but only seven people stood inside. I stiffened as I took in who they were.

'Holy shit.'

After visiting the count's estate, I had thoroughly read several books on the order's hierarchy, so I recognized them at once.

The only two armored people present were a man and a woman. Their armor bore different emblems, but the silver thread around the edges identified them as commanders of the paladin orders. With Paul Crovits, all three of the order's commanders were gathered here.

And that wasn't all.

Two high priests and a cardinal. And standing at their center, as though attended by them all, was an elderly man.

“... A servant of the stars greets Your Holiness, the Holy Archbishop.”

The moment Rotmiller saw him, he knelt and made the holy sign.

Understandably so. In Catholic terms, we were standing before the pope.

'But who's that kid?'

After briefly feeling a strange pressure from this impressive lineup, I turned my attention to the child standing in front of the pope.

A little boy of about ten. Now that I looked, everyone seemed positioned to protect him—even the pope standing directly behind him.

Just who was this kid?

While I was pondering that question...

“The star that rises at dusk shall guide my way.”

The pope made the holy sign first, and everyone bowed their heads toward us.

It was an extraordinarily unusual gesture. So unusual that Rotmiller, a follower himself, froze like a stone, at a complete loss.

“...”

Was it because we were in a chapel? A strangely sacred, solemn atmosphere filled the air.

After a brief silence, the pope spoke.

“High Priest Ludwig was someone very dear to us. You have my thanks for delivering his letter. May I ask how you came to possess it?”

Honestly, I was a little surprised. For the supreme leader of one of the three great religions addressing a fourth-floor explorer, his manner was remarkably courteous and cautious.

'He can't always be like this. Ludwig must have been that important to them.'

I slowly began to speak, giving a brief account of what had happened in Larukaz' Maze.

But was this how clergymen thought?

“The star of dusk sent you to him when he was lost and wandering. Thank you for saving his soul. Though he fell into the clutches of a wicked god, his spirit shall shine forever, even within the darkness.”

It was a little uncomfortable to hear. It wasn't a question of right or wrong. How should I put it? I could feel that these people stood fundamentally opposite me.

I'd never gotten along particularly well with religious types.

“... This belonged to him.”

I took out the necklace the high priest had worn and handed it over.

If this was a sacred relic, keeping it would be worth far more than collecting the reward... but I didn't begrudge giving it back. It was the right thing to do.

I owed that high priest.

“Thank you. It is not the item we were searching for, but it will allow us to bring some comfort to his departed soul.”

So it wasn't a sacred relic after all. Well, if he'd had anything like that, that bastard would have taken it.

“Cardinal Grayond, how much reward money is due to them?”

“Although the sacred relic has not been recovered, considering the importance of the contents of his handwritten letter, his personal effects, and their account of his final moments, even the full seventy million Stones designated by the Treasury would hardly be enough.”

“Then see that it is paid.”

I swallowed involuntarily.

I'd expected the reward to be halved without the sacred relic, but they were giving us all of it. I reproached myself for finding their words uncomfortable.

These really were exemplary religious people.

Not that that was what mattered.

“There's something I'd like to ask.”

“Please, speak.”

With the first matter settled, I went straight to the point. This might be more important than the reward.

“So what are you going to do now?”

“May I ask what exactly you mean?”

“You've identified the man who kidnapped High Priest Ludwig. I was wondering if you intended to take revenge. I ended up getting dragged into this myself.”

As I asked, I casually implied that they bore some responsibility too. But the answer I received was terribly vague.

“I cannot give you a definite answer here and now.”

“I see.”

Tsk. I'd thought that if they went after him for revenge, he wouldn't have the resources to bother me for a while.

Was I really going to have to handle this on my own?

I smacked my lips in disappointment and nodded.

That was when it happened.

“Don't worry too much, great warrior.”

The instant the child I'd been watching opened his mouth, a dazzling silver radiance burst forth.

WHOOOOSH!

When I came to my senses, a ring of three intertwined vines encircled my thick finger.

I had no idea what was happening... until I heard the cardinal's cry.

“An oracle...! An oracle has been granted...!”

Something I'd only heard about through NPC dialogue in the game, never experienced myself.

An oracle.

'Motherfucker.'

And from the sound of it, the first in a very long time.

* * *

The mystery was finally solved. Why had the pope been treating such a young child like a sacred treasure?

The answer was remarkably simple.

'I never imagined he'd be a holy maiden.'

No, since he was a boy, should I call him a holy boy?

Anyway, the title wasn't important. A vessel capable of hearing a god's voice and, at times, holding that god's power.

The child gifted with the qualities of such a vessel spoke.

“The goddess just spoke to me. She said that ring will ward off a powerful ill-fated bond up to three times.”

“By an ill-fated bond, do you mean the Dragonslayer, Ligar Vagos?”

An ordinary fortune-teller would have answered a question like that with something along the lines of maybe, maybe not.

But an oracle was different.

“Yes. She said it can ward off only your ill-fated bond with him. So you must prepare to overcome your fate for when all the vines on that ring have broken.”

I felt like some hero destined to defeat the Demon King.

Frankly, I was dumbfounded. Sure, I'd taken down that bitch Elisa, and there was everything with the high priest, but why would a goddess give me a gift like this?

Especially someone they called an evil spirit.

'What is this? Some kind of hidden-camera prank?'

For a moment, I suspected they might all be using this child to pull a scam... but the ring on my finger dispelled that suspicion.

Besides, their astonished expressions looked far too sincere to be acting.

“The star that rises at dusk shall guide my way.”

“Let all follow its natural course.”

These religious leaders at the very pinnacle of this world all faced me and made the holy sign.

I checked my companions' expressions.

“Bjorn, just who are you, nyah?!”

“You really were a man of destiny!”

“No, that's not the issue here. H-how could a barbarian be chosen by a human god...?”

Look at me all you want; I didn't know either.

Only then did I realize this wasn't simply something to celebrate, and I turned to the child. I had so many questions.

But...

THUD.

The boy collapsed limply, perhaps as the price of receiving the oracle. The pope caught him, and that brought today's meeting to an end.

“Sir Crovits, escort our guests outside.”

“No, wait! I still have questions...”

“Please understand. We shall meet again, and I will explain everything then. Until that time, I ask that you keep today's events secret. A great calamity might otherwise befall you.”

“What, a calamity?”

I felt like I'd just heard something outrageous, but that was the end of the conversation.

“Sir Crovits will explain the details.”

With the pope refusing to budge, we had no choice but to be ushered out. Paul Crovits led us back to the reception room where we had waited earlier.

“Crovits, what in the world is going on?”

“I... do not know either. I cannot fathom her intention in granting an oracle to someone of another race.”

“... Does she never grant oracles to other races?”

“Indeed. To my knowledge, this is only the third time.”

“And what happened to the others?”

“According to the records, they were branded heretics and driven out by their own people.”

Hah. This had gotten complicated.

Had I gained another self-destruct button on top of being an evil spirit?

“Now I understand why he told me to keep it secret.”

“Yes. If word got out, it would likely do you more harm than good.”

Spirit Seal was the key to a barbarian's growth.

And if I got kicked out of the tribe? From that day on, I'd effectively be a ruined build. Barbarian shamans existed only in the sanctuary.

“Still, you need not worry about us. Nothing will be leaked from our side.”

As he said that, Crovits looked at my companions. He said nothing more, but his meaning was clear.

So I looked at them too.

“Oh! I-I'll keep my mouth shut, nyah! Really, nyah! You believe me, right, Bjorn, nyah?”

“Don't worry. I heard nothing today.”

Misha went without saying, and I wasn't particularly worried about Rotmiller either. Aside from his character, the man was a follower of Leatlas.

The problem, however...

“Y-you! Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

“... I'll give up drinking.”

I sighed as the dwarf lowered his head dejectedly.

Whew. We shouldn't have all come here together.

Were all the gods here like this? It felt as though, in exchange for removing the heaviest stone weighing on my chest, she'd placed a smaller one there.

'Still, he's not that loose-lipped...'

I decided to focus on the positives.

If this ring really prevented encounters with the Dragonslayer, could I even call this much of a risk?

In terms of gains and losses, it was an undeniable gain. I'd bought the time I needed most desperately.

'This is my first time getting a sacred relic through an oracle, too.'

Items bestowed by gods were called sacred relics. Most had ridiculously overpowered effects.

That was why I had no doubts about the ring's effectiveness. I didn't know how long it would last, but until all three strands broke, I wouldn't encounter that bastard.

However...

'The question is how long it'll take them to break.'

Two years? Three?

Since it was a brand-new sacred relic, fresh off the press, that seemed possible... but it would be wiser to prepare with the shortest possible timeframe in mind.

I settled on six months to a year at the low end, finishing sorting out my thoughts.

Then, just as I rose from the sofa...

CRACKLE.

One of the intertwined vines broke.

“Uh, Bjorn? I think one just broke, nyah.”

“... No. That's impossible.”

I wet my fingers with spit and rubbed the broken vine together as though twisting rope.

But as always, reality was merciless.

“There, look. It's stuck together perfectly.”

The moment I triumphantly held out my ringed hand...

WHOOOOSH!

The broken vine scattered in a burst of silver light.