Chapter 10
Once, a hellish blaze of searing heat swept across the land, burning everything to ash.
A devastating drought followed. The ground cracked open, all water dried up, and even the few life-forms that barely survived withered and shriveled away.
Watching the land fall into such a state, the Sun God Raspalara could not turn away from the deaths that were unfolding in agony.
He severed one of his many arms and offered it to the God of Springs, and it took the form of a chalice.
Bestowing it upon his most beloved, pure spring water welled up endlessly from the vessel, saving those who were suffering from thirst.
Water that did not run dry even after all living beings drank from it soaked the parched earth, and before long gathered together to form rivers and seas.
Thus, through the mercy of the Sun God Raspalara, humanity was granted another chance to live upon this land.
This is the legend tied to the holy relic known as the “Right Hand of the Halo.”
So renowned was this tale, in which Raspalara’s benevolence shone especially brightly, that there was no follower of the Sun who did not know it.
“‘My branch becomes dew and soothes the cries of anguish…’ Are you referring to that Right Hand of the Halo?”
The Sun priest Humbert was also well aware of the relic Aquila was speaking of.
Even so, he continued with a bewildered expression.
“At present, there is no confirmed record of where that relic is. There are only rumors. Are you saying that very relic is at the Grand Temple of Portplum?”
In a world where gods existed, the likelihood that divine gifts had been passed down to humans was high, yet among them were many relics of unclear origin.
The “Right Hand of the Halo” Aquila mentioned was one such relic.
According to the legend, it was a chalice from which pure spring water flowed without ceasing—something that ought to have stood out—yet it had never been found anywhere.
Thus, some scholars argued that the Right Hand of the Halo was nothing more than a myth, but Aquila could assert with certainty that it was in Portplum.
Because he had seen it with his own eyes.
‘The basement of the Grand Temple of Portplum. It should still be there.’
A vast underground chamber that ordinary priests were forbidden to enter.
There, among the many relics stored within, Aquila had seen a golden chalice about the size of an adult’s forearm, engraved with Raspalara’s sigil.
Its size alone was striking, but its appearance was closer to what people called a Holy Grail than to an ordinary cup.
‘Of course, it did not have water welling up from it like in the legend.’
Still, despite clearly being ancient, the water pooled inside it like a small basin had not spoiled and instead looked remarkably pure.
The person who had guided Aquila there said that it was not newly poured water, but water that had always been there, which meant the relic was genuine.
To begin with, that place was under strict security, inaccessible to just anyone.
“How could you know that…? No, is it truly so? That the Grand Temple of Portplum has been hiding a holy relic—”
“I did not bring this up to ask you to verify its truth.”
Aquila cut Humbert off curtly and continued in an indifferent voice.
“Whether you believe it or not does not matter. You will be accompanying us anyway, so you can hear the reason then.”
On this continent, showing basic courtesy to those who served the gods was considered the norm—but that was all it was.
Since Aquila had seen it himself in a previous run, he had no concrete proof, nor did he have any intention of explaining things at length to begin with.
‘There is no point in rambling to someone who is not even a main character.’
Under his hood, Aquila wore an unenthused expression.
Flustered, Humbert worked his lips a few times before finally nodding, having no other choice.
He cleared his throat several times.
“As you may know, when communication via a crystal orb is conducted within a temple, at least two priests must be present. This is a rule observed by all Temples of the Sun, so please comply.”
While one person channels divine power into the crystal orb, another handles the communication and record-keeping.
This was partly to ensure stable operation, and partly to prevent mishaps.
Thus, inter-temple communication could not be conducted unilaterally by a single priest.
Aquila was already well aware of this rule, so he nodded silently—but Humbert was not finished.
“Um, however… judging by how early you came, I understand this is urgent, but to use the crystal orb, you may need to wait a bit.”
In an apologetic tone, Humbert glanced toward the window, where the light had only just begun to brighten.
Shen immediately asked, “Is there a problem?”
“The Frost Forest subjugation around this time of year is—ah, of course, I am sure you are aware. Since the abbot and other priests have gone to support the Frost Forest subjugation, only the bare minimum personnel remain at the temple. At this hour, that is only me.”
The transition from winter to spring.
Every year in March, the Frost Forest became oversaturated due to the surge of monsters.
Those that failed to secure territory spilled out of the forest and began moving south, and subjugating them was a duty entrusted to the Reschenhardt family since its founding.
The reason the current head of the Reschenhardt family had not shown his face even while his wife and son were in danger was entirely due to this Frost Forest subjugation.
He had gone to the land of bitter cold.
‘Celsia must have chosen this timing deliberately. Even if the method to lift the Curse of Deadly Poison was unknown, she would not want interference before casting it.’
Each year, the head of the Reschenhardt family and most of the capable individuals participated in the subjugation.
Because this duty was considered an honor for those born and raised in Igrail, no one hesitated to volunteer.
Everyone understood that if the monster subjugation failed, it would not be only Igrail that was endangered.
“So, if you are waiting for another priest to arrive, it will likely take over an hour…”
Trailing off, Humbert bowed apologetically.
As a priest of the Sun, he could not violate the temple’s rules.
Aquila, having once been a priest himself, understood Humbert’s predicament.
Of course, that did not mean he intended to wait for an hour.
“Is it only priests belonging to the temple who may use the crystal orb?”
“Usually, yes. Emergency communication between temples is not commonly used, and it is not widely known to those who are not priests.”
Yujelia answered Aquila’s question immediately.
“Well, unless someone knows as much as you do, Young Master.”
She added the remark pointedly.
There was more than mere admiration on Yujelia’s face, since she herself had only learned yesterday that the Right Hand of the Halo was in the basement of the Grand Temple of Portplum.
Strictly speaking, Aquila had only said that there was a “chalice” in the basement, and Yujelia had simply taken the bait by suggesting it might be the Right Hand of the Halo.
‘I should probably tweak the explanation later. Something like recalling the dragon’s prophecy in a dream.’
Aquila remained silent, feigning ignorance, as Yujelia studied him for a moment before seeming to realize something and turning away.
“Ah. I am Yujelia, a priest affiliated with the Grand Temple of Portplum.”
Yujelia removed the brooch pinned to the left side of her robe.
The circular shape at its center symbolized the sun, surrounded by six pointed semicircles like flower petals.
And like a sun just rising over the horizon, only the upper half was depicted with numerous sharp blades embedded into it, radiating light.
‘The Sun God Raspalara has multiple arms and is also called a god of war.’
Thus, the many blades embedded above symbolized both Raspalara’s arms and his aspect as a war god.
Yujelia turned the brooch over and showed the back to Humbert.
Engraved there were Yujelia’s name and the word “Portplum.”
Only priests affiliated with a temple could receive such a brooch, and since it contained the priest’s own divine power, it also served as a form of identification.
When it belonged to its rightful owner, the brooch emitted a faint yellow glow.
Just as it was glowing now in Yujelia’s hand.
Seeing this, Humbert hurriedly removed his own brooch and showed it to them.
“I am Humbert, a priest of Igrail. I did not realize you were affiliated with Portplum.”
Murmuring to himself, Humbert nodded as though he had reached an understanding.
He seemed to think that it was Yujelia who knew the Right Hand of the Halo was there.
“If there is no one else available, may I accompany you into the crystal orb chamber?”
“What? You will?”
“I have never seen a rule stating that priests from different affiliations cannot participate together. Is there such a rule in Igrail?”
“N-no, I have not seen such a rule either, but…”
“Then I will do it. I do not think we can afford to wait an hour.”
As she said this, Yujelia glanced sideways at Aquila, as if indicating who exactly could not afford to wait.
Receiving her look, Aquila wore a slightly displeased expression beneath his hood.
“…Very well. Since you are contacting Portplum, it should be acceptable.”
Humbert looked uncertain, but apparently decided there was no real problem and led them inside.
Yujelia briefly turned back with an expression that said, ‘I did well, right?’
Looking at her, Aquila finally nodded honestly.
***
What Aquila intended to say into the crystal orb was this:
“I have heard that drinking the water pooled within Raspalara’s holy relic can cure any curse.
This was told to me by a Great Being, so it must be true.
Therefore, I wish to borrow that relic before it is too late.
Once preparations are complete, I will head straight for Portplum, so take note.”
It was little more than a notification.
In any case, whether the curse would truly be cured here was not the important issue.
What mattered most was the movement that would follow immediately after the message was sent.
‘Once the temple grows busy, those bastards will move. They have people inside the Temple of the Sun as well.’
A band that committed all manner of corrupt deeds—the Guild of Darkness.
They existed wherever people lived, and were meticulous when it came to crime.
The very channel through which corrupted followers commissioned the Curse of Deadly Poison was the Guild of Darkness, so if word spread that there was a method to lift the curse, it was obvious they would make a move.
Aquila had only one reason for wanting to catch them.
It was a purge required for progressing the main scenario.
That was why he planned to use the Temple of the Sun, both to observe the Guild of Darkness’ movements and to draw them out.
‘If I leak a bit about the Guild of Darkness and put the method for lifting the Curse of Deadly Poison up as bargaining material, the Temple of the Sun will find it hard to resist.’
That was Aquila’s assessment.
Of course, to put it up as a bargaining chip, there was someone he needed to meet first.
He planned to go straight to the Grand Temple of Portplum and draw that person out.
At this point in time, that individual was thoroughly shrouded in secrecy.
That was why he had not mentioned it separately to Yujelia.
And yet—
[Ah. So everything was revealed to you by the Great Ancient Dragon, Igdrein? How fascinating. There are no known records of how the Reschenhardt family communicates with dragons…]
A gentle voice resonated from the crystal orb.
Since only voices could be transmitted, the face was not visible, yet Aquila could picture the other party clearly.
Water-colored hair that gave a clean impression.
A man with a gentle countenance.
[If you come here, will you explain it in detail? The Grand Temple of Portplum will welcome you.]
Watching that image in his mind, Aquila smiled inwardly.
‘To show your face yourself—this saves me the trouble of coming to find you.’
Of all the beings Aquila had encountered, the most fickle human after spirits.
Saint Ianpel.