Chapter 120 — In which attempts at sharing but not sharing information are made (4)

  “May I ask a question?”

  “You can ask me anything.”

  “It may be very sensitive.”

  “As I said Vern, ask me anything.”

  Crimo placed down the cup of coffee he was sipping during breakfast.

  He must’ve realized already that coffee doesn’t have much effect on vampires, but he seemed to drink it out habit.

  Or maybe he wanted to take potential document destroyer off Scarlen’s hands.

  The man still didn’t give up in his attempts to reduce work of his lord by any means necessary.

  Vern turned his gaze away from the coffee cup, to a dry plum he was already toying for a minute with, before carefully asking.

  “What was the meaning of that threat Saint sent you?”

  ‘I’m very secretive person. But with my compassion as wide as the ocean, if someone asks me very earnestly, I may end up whispering a few words into their ears.’

  Was what Am sent Phlox with to firmly stop Crimo from digging into the envoy’s strange behavior.

  Ver knew his little brother well.

  He wasn’t bluffing, he had something that could completely destroy Crimo.

  And considering how easily Crimo backed down, he must’ve figured out what it was.

  At Vern’s question, both Sangria and Scarlen’s gazes turned to Crimo.

  Crimo didn’t look back at them, he stared down, his fingers fiddling with a silvery edge of a plate.

  He opened and closed his mouth, as if words keep escaping him the moment he wanted to put them on his tongue.

  “Sometimes… people in a desperate situation turn to most ridiculous things. Anything that could give them a glimmer of hope.”

  “… No way…”

  Scarlen’s face crumpled, but Crimo didn’t deny his silent accusation and just tightly shut his eyes.

  “… Which god was it?”

  Scarlen almost growled this question out.

  “I don’t know.”

  “… You don’t know?”

  Crimo sighed.

  “Archmage’s library is rich, but it has some areas it’s severely lacking in. The gods and their worship rituals are one of them. Sure, we have historic books and chronicles on the subject, but they don’t go into details on how to pray, what to sacrifice or how to arrange an altar. I found only some information for one god, but I’m not sure of its name or domain.”

  “So you just did it? Without knowing what may be a consequence of that?”

  “I was desperate, Scarlen. I was willing to sacrifice my soul if it meant Vern and Hibis would stay safe and healthy.”

  Scarlen’s face, which was filled with a quiet rage, shifted to deep guilt.

  He couldn’t say a thing to that.

  Instead, the one to speak next was Sangria.

  “I see. So what that person said when leaving was related to that god, perhaps?”

  “That person?”

  “What did he say?”

  Both Scarlen and Vern quickly clung on Sangria.

  One gaze more friendly and curious than the other.

  “If I may quote: ‘Please make sure to thank the god you pray to, later. They used up almost all of their energy to save you. Blood sacrifices are all good, but they also really like milk.’”

  “You heard all of it, huh?”

  “I did. But I admit, in the chaos of the situation, I didn’t properly register what it meant. I only realized it now.”

  Sangria admitted with embarrassment.

  “Blood sacrifices?”

  Scarlen repeated with the edge in his voice.

  He looked at Crimo.

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  “My Lord, you need to take in blood, not lose it.”

  “Well, I know it now.”

  Crimo shrugged.

  He then quickly added, when Scarlen’s glare grew stronger.

  “It wasn’t much to begin with. And if I can just use milk, then it’s all the better.”

  “If the words of that person were to be trusted, that god saved Our Lord’s life. It’s something to be thankful for, right?”

  Sangria tried to diffuse the growing tension.

  But he earned Scarlen’s glare instead.

  “It may be a lie. You never know with those double-faced gods and Purplus’ zealots. And what is Master Sangria even doing trying to defend a god? You don’t even believe in ghosts.”

  “Master Sangria doesn’t believe in ghosts?”

  “He does not, My Dear Lord. And while Master Sangria’s stubbornness about it is foolish, you may take example and not believe in some sketchy gods.”

  “Grandmaster Scarlen, I never said those so-called gods are good and should be trusted, and please don’t change the subject with some unrelated nonsense. What I mean to say, that god seems to be connected to saving Our Lord, and that should be considered.”

  “Have you lost your mind, Master Sangria? Gods take power from worship, just thinking about them and contemplating their intentions would be strengthening them!”

  “Oh so what Grandmaster Scarlen is doing now is better?”

  The fiery discussion continued, as Crimo weakly tried to calm the two down.

  Vern tilted his head.

  ‘What a strange situation.’

  He crossed his arms and tapped them with his fingers.

  He didn’t think that Crimo truly could find only one god, and it was one without a name.

  He also found it strange that Crimo didn’t show them any symbols or idols of the god, he might be keeping.

  On the other hand, Scarlen’s behavior was also weird.

  As much as he worried about Crimo, it was first time he showed any anger towards him.

  And honestly speaking, it felt tad too excessive for a mere act of worship.

  Perhaps it was Vern’s bias speaking, as he had deeper understating of gods than anyone else in this room.

  But there was a good way to utilize their lack of understanding.

  “Then Grandmaster Scarlen and Master Sangria should go to Purplus to find out.”

  “That’s right, we shoul-.”

  Scarlen paused mid-sentence, dumbfounded.

  Sangria looked at Vern with his mouth half-open.

  When even Crimo gave him a questioning look, Vern explained.

  “If we’re going to find out anything about that god, the mysterious guest, and what the priests of Sun and Day Temple were actually doing, someone needs to go to Purplus. And the only ones who can be trusted with such a sensitive matters, is the two of you. No?”

  The two men could not refuse the order wrapped as a show of trust.

  They glanced at Crimo, seeking escape.

  Crimo observed Vern for a moment, and then nodded.

  “Let’s do as Vern says.”

  Crimo was truly a fool for his younger siblings.

  *-*-*

  *Our Am is getting married?!*

  *That’s still too early for that.*

  *I knew it! He was gazing at that glass of water for too long! It bewitched him!*

  *Am! Don’t fall for their treacherous tricks! The water cannot love you back!*

  *What did you just say about me!?*

  *Everyone knows that something that doesn’t have a heart, can’t give a heart.*

  *None of us has heart. We’re fully spiritual existences.*

  *Oh dear Universe, you’re right…*

  Amara remained largely indifferent to the meltdown of gods and those around him.

  He planned to fall in love at first sight, the moment he saw his one true love, so they should start getting use to it.

  Besides, even a saint would have enough if they had to repeat ‘No, not yet. Still searching for it.’ for three hours.

  Amara lasted five, but the truth still stands.

  He instead turned his gaze to a thin man before him, who he wanted to see the least when high on the feeling of falling in love.

  Rasin, the head priest of the Universe Temple and de facto ruler of Purplus, if one considered the administrative power he held.

  The man was now licking off honey from his fingers with a disgustingly elegant movement.

  Amara was a little jealous of his skill.

  “General Sulfious is dead.”

  He told Rasin, so the man stopped showing off.

  “Yes? When did he leave us?”

  “Around midnight.”

  Amara carefully observed Rasin’s face, not missing any detail.

  The man appeared surprised. Truly surprised if the meticulous movement of his facial muscles were to be believed.

  “May his soul move on in peace.”

  Rasin said solemnly, and Amara didn’t point out how it was ignoring half of the population of living beings, who didn’t have a spirit body called ‘soul’.

  Rather, he just went straight to the point.

  “Flavun will send a request for a priest. As is a custom.”

  It was a custom, but it was rarely adhered to.

  When late Archmage Belleder died, Crimo didn’t have any priest examine her body and soul, or do last rites.

  He considered it disrespectful for his mother.

  Therefore, Rasin raised an eyebrow.

  “Why would they do that?”

  ‘Because Saf is there.’

  Amara was able to quickly put face to the name and realize Saf’s current status.

  Of course, he couldn’t use her name as an excuse.

  “There are two candidates. They hate each other, so they surely will find another way to annoy each other even more.”

  It wasn’t very substantial explanation, but Amara acted like it was annoying to even speak more of it.

  He put even more annoyance in his following words:

  “So we should send Miss Phlox.”

  Rasin made a slightly embarrassed face.

  “Your excellency, she is your attending priest. To sent someone of this position to do mere last rites is…”

  “Isn’t it better? It goes to show how much I care about our sibling states.”

  Amara’s face could not convey more indifference about sibling states than his expression right now.

  Rasin squinted for a second, his leisure demeanor shifting into one of calculations.

  “Alright. I’ll do as your excellency wishes.”

  He bowed and stood up, getting ready to return to work.

  But of course he didn’t forget to remark:

  “Your excellency seems to be eating a bit more today. That’s very reassuring.”

  Amara suddenly felt like he was being treated no different from a precious bird, who was sick for a few weeks and refused to eat, getting owner worried.

  He frowned in real annoyance this time, and put a slice of blood orange into his mouth to soothe himself.

  As it wasn’t their season, the orange was a bit bitter.

  “… Your Excellency, did you perhaps receive a vision?”

  Was what Phlox asked when she heard about the death of Flavun’s ruler.

  Amara shook his head.

  “Throne holders can sense when one of them dies.”

  “Oh… I’m sorry. That must be terrible.”

  “Not really. Our senses or minds aren’t connected, it’s like a simple message.”

  “But Your Excellency’s expression…. No, nevermind.”

  Phlox didn’t ask a question, and Amara changed the topic.

  “So Miss Phlox will soon be going to Flavun.”

  “Huh?”

  “You’re to depart the moment the messenger comes.”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s better to start packing now.”

  “…”

  Phlox had no say in the matter.

  Therefore, after mumbling ‘well, it may not be so bad’ with a wistful look that Amara found slightly odd, but did not comment on, she changed the topic.

  “What is Your Excellency planning to do about those priests?”

  There was no need to ask, who ‘those priests’ was referring to.

  Phlox was obviously asking about the priests of Sun and Day Gods Temple, who preformed twisted ritual during Ver’s coming-of-age ceremony.

  “I already talk about it, didn’t I?”

  When Phlox came back from Rubrun and reported on the matter, Amara made his disaffection quite clear.

  “Your Excellency did say you will teach them so they remember.” Phlox folded her hands. “But meaning of it is very broad.”

  “Is Miss Phlox perhaps concerned about… future well-being of those priests?”

  “…”

  “Honestly speaking, I find it surprising. I was under assumption that Miss Phlox denounced your ties to the Temple of Sun and Day Gods.”

  “Your Excellency should be more than aware that in the inter-temples politics, an individual’s feelings on any given matter rarely matter.”

  “That’s troubling, as Miss Phlox should also denounce any ties to the Thousands Gods Temple when entering this Universe Temple.”

  Amara spoke with some sarcasm, jumping around the topic.

  Those weren’t his true thoughts, at least not for the most part – he was just acting his role of detached saint, who cares little about problems of the living.

  But Phlox, who would usually also act her role of overzealous priest, who blindly sought to change this uncaring saint, was weirdly sincere today.

  Therefore, Amara rolled his eyes with some extravaganza and said:

  “While trying to forcibly alter a god’s being is a heavy crime, misguidance is not a crime deserving death. Nor does is it deserving of slavery. I’ll only strictly teach them, so they know their wrongs.”

  Amara didn’t mention anything about the political aspect of this crime.

  Because that would be a treason.

  *~*~*