It was Kriel who finally managed to silence Orishin.
“Hey.”
[Kuhahaha! Did you see that? I have triumphed over that evil witch─]
“That’s nothing to celebrate.”
[Huh?]
“It means that not even the Saintess can purify your curse. Unless a group of priests gathers to perform an elaborate sacred ritual, you’ll remain corrupted by the Abyss forever.”
[Wh-What? Wait. That… is that really what it means?]
Stunned, Orishin fell silent for a moment before disappearing into the horn of the Bicorn with a despairing cry, “This wasn’t supposed to be my faaaate!”
Kriel had hoped he could finally enjoy a peaceful dinner, but instead, he found himself face-to-face with Morgina who was far from concealing her fury.
Carrying her tray, Morgina plopped herself down directly across from Kriel and murmured something in a barely audible voice.
“…It’s not because I lack skill.”
“I know.”
Kriel replied calmly. As far as he was aware, Morgina was one of the most capable priests he had ever met. If even she couldn’t manage it, then the curse was never something that could be resolved by an individual’s power.
“The curse must have been incredibly vile.”
“The intensity of the curse itself wasn’t that strong. It’s the core that’s the problem.”
“The core?”
“The thing forming the nucleus of the curse. Something that’s corroding that crazy horse head’s soul. I tried using blessings to purify it multiple times, but I couldn’t cleanse the deepest source of it.”
Morgina explained that unless the core of the curse was purified, the corruption would continue to progress, albeit slowly. Kriel asked her.
“Wait a minute. If it’s a structural problem, does that mean even something like an elaborate sacred ritual wouldn’t work?”
“If you poured divine power into it recklessly, the outcome might be unpredictable… but fundamentally, no, it wouldn’t work. Blessings borrow the providence of the gods, so you need a precise understanding of how that providence works.”
Morgina added a brief example. There was a case where someone suffering from a terminal illness received blessings for healing multiple times, which temporarily improved their condition, but the disease never truly went away.
In reality, the person hadn’t been ill but had been infected by a parasite.
“Well, the records differ on whether it was a parasite or poison, but that part doesn’t matter. The key takeaway is that using blessings indiscriminately without proper understanding can’t resolve the root of the problem.”
Kriel stared at the Bicorn’s horn in his hand. If there was no way to resolve the corruption, what was he supposed to do with this thing?
Suddenly, Orishin’s voice rang in his mind.
[W-Wait! We’ve spent a few days together, haven’t we? You’re not planning to go ‘snap’ or ‘crack’ with me here, are you?]
Kriel didn’t respond. After hearing eight variations of Orishin’s plea for a reprieve, delivered in increasingly desperate tones, Morgina muttered with a sour expression on her face.
“I can’t just leave this idiot after he came all the way here….”
“…….”
“Hey. Hand it over.”
“The horn?”
“Yeah. I’ll figure something out.”
[Hold on! Are you really going to hand me over to that violent woman? Kriel! Sir Knight!]
Orishin shouted passionately. The difference from the mental noise pollution he had been making earlier was that this time, he was so desperate he didn’t even bother using thought waves. He was shouting loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Orishin.”
[Are you going to spare me?!]
“There’s a saying. What goes around comes around. You really should have been more careful with your words.”
Kriel ignored Orishin’s screams as he handed the horn over to Morgina. His intent wasn’t purely to tease Orishin; it was a preemptive measure to prevent further corruption.
Morgina smirked cruelly.
***
It was three days and nights later when Kriel saw Morgina again. Her appearance left an impression, as it was unlike her usual spirited or fiery demeanor. Her eyes looked empty and weary.
“Take it.”
What Morgina tossed toward him was a dagger encased in a luxurious leather sheath. Both the hilt and the sheath were pitch-black, making it look, at a glance, like a short black baton from a distance.
Kriel drew the dagger. The blade was finely honed to a sharp edge and had a pale color that resembled the color of bone.
The strangely curved blade flashed with a unique atmosphere whenever it caught the light. As if it reflected the foam of the waves or the flickering of the flames.
At that moment, a now-familiar chattering voice rang out in his ears.
[So much has happened… I’m really exhausted, seriously.]
“What is this?”
“It’s a dagger made from that horn. The sheath has a silencing effect on it. That thing was unbelievably noisy.”
The Bicorn’s horn was sharp enough to cut through plate armor, but its sharpness was concentrated at the tip. Distributing that sharpness across the entire blade must have required considerable effort.
“If you go around stabbing people with that, it should purify the corruption. While it’s impossible to cleanse the root cause since that horse head idiot’s mind is so messed up, at least you’ll be able to wash away the corruption as it arises.”
Morgina spoke nonchalantly, but the effort she had put in rivaled that of preparing for a grand festival at a temple.
Eve Kaha was the goddess who guided fallen warriors; she naturally embodied aspects of a war god. At times, even the act of honorable battle itself became an offering to her.
Morgina took advantage of this and blessed the horn blade so that any battle fought with it would be elevated to a ritual offering to Eve Kaha. As long as Kriel didn’t let go of the dagger, there was no chance that the horse’s eyes would suddenly flip and charge at Kriel.
“Now, get ready.”
“Get ready?”
“I told you, didn’t I? In a few days, we’re meeting the Priest King. Are you planning to show up wearing that heavy-looking armor? It’s a royal audience, after all.”
Kriel’s protest that a knight’s formal attire was his armor became meaningless in the face of the clothes Morgina threw at him.
The neatly tailored yet simple uniform was as black as a raven, just like Morgina’s. On the chest, a red thread embroidered in the shape of a raven made it easily recognizable as the ceremonial robe of the Eve Kaha Order.
When Kriel changed into the outfit, Morgina nodded her head in satisfaction.
“The clothes make the man. Let’s go.”
***
The Priest King hated his position.
From the moment no one volunteered during the election, he should have realized that something was amiss. He had thought it was the pinnacle of temple authority, only to discover it was the pinnacle of administrative duties. It was a fraud.
“Oh, gods of the Pantheon…”
Please shorten the term of the Priest King. But the Priest King couldn’t bring himself to say the latter part aloud. It wasn’t out of fear of blasphemy; he simply knew there was no point in voicing it.
“Your Holiness, the saints of the various orders have arrived.”
The voice of an older priest delivering the news came from outside the office. If he could trade positions with that priest, the Priest King would have given a fortune.
“Please inform them to enter.”
The office doors opened, and the saints entered slowly. In the early days of his term, many had been away from the holy city of Temlis, so they were unfamiliar faces to him. But after meeting them several times, he grew to know them.
Hmm?
Among the gathering of saints, there was an unfamiliar face. The Priest King had indeed stated, “You may bring a trustworthy companion to accompany you on your assigned tasks.” Since these would be secret missions, the number of companions had been limited to no more than three.
Some saints, as per the Priest King’s directive, had selected one or two paladins from their respective orders to accompany them. All of them were individuals the Priest King recognized.
To be more precise, the Priest King knew every priest who had ever visited the Holy City. As the supreme ruler of the Holy Kingdom, he presided over the appointment and promotion ceremonies of the clergy, and he memorized the faces of all the clergy he met at those times.
However, the white-haired paladin, who was easily recognizable by the emblem that marked him as the Grand Warrior of the Eve Kaha Church, was someone the Priest King had never seen before.
“Morgina, who is that?”
“Our church’s Grand Warrior. I appointed him the day before yesterday.”
The Priest King hesitated briefly but soon nodded his head. The authority to appoint a Grand Warrior rested solely with each religious order. If it were purely Morgina’s decision, he might have questioned it, but a formal decision by the Eve Kaha Church itself was trustworthy.
“You all must have heard a brief explanation of the situation. Relics of the Abyss has been discovered.”
“How many are there for all of us to be summoned?”
“A great many.”
“So how many exactly?”
The one who pressed for an answer was an elderly monk whose visibly muscled body made his skill in barehanded combat clear for all. When the martial monk asked again, the Priest King picked up a pouch from the table and turned it upside down.
With a jangling sound, pieces of metal tumbled out in layers. When the contents of the first pouch were emptied, the Priest King opened another, and then another.
One after another, piles of metal fragments began to accumulate.
“All of this.”
“Those tiny shards? They’re far too small to be called relics, aren’t they?”
Just as the Priest King was about to explain, he noticed Morgina pressing her fingers lightly against the Grand Warrior’s shoulder.
“…Ah, yes. He’s right. They’re all Abyss relics.”
Oh? The Priest King’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. Whoever this man was, being appointed as the Grand Warrior of a religious order must mean he possessed exceptional abilities.
“But they aren’t separate relics. It seems like one relic has been split into multiple parts—”
What an extraordinary perception. The Priest King clapped his hands in admiration.
“Damn it, Morgina. Where did you find someone like this? He’s like a living Holy Gate!”
Kriel, who had nearly been expelled from the Holy city because of that very Holy Gate, wasn’t sure what expression he should make at such praise.
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