"Father Paladin, we've arrived at Nurba," O'Neill said from outside the carriage.
Paladin immediately put on a show and tried to get out of the carriage. With arms crossed, hands clasped, he reverently said, "Thank you! Thank you very much for thy protection. Enos must've discreetly blessed and protected this faithful servant from above. That's why no bandits were encountered."
Liriel, the ranger, gave Paladin a sidelong glance when he stiffly got out of the carriage. She lowered her head and whispered to Orkney, who was standing beside her.
"What, there aren't any bandits encountered along the way? This damn priest would have been skinned a long time ago if the bandits hadn't noticed there was a mage here! And now, he's only thanking Enos."
"Shhh! Keep your voice down!"
Orkney hurriedly covered her mouth, afraid that the priest would hear. He also carefully observed Paladin's reaction, but there was no sign of anger. After all, in Orkney's opinion, mercenaries like them, who always seek to earn some money even if it was the result of blood being spilled, were fortunate to be acquainted with and gain the friendship of a priest.
Paladin inhaled deeply as he stood outside the carriage. There was a faint scent of earth in the air. Almost all of the fatigue from traveling vanished. He clearly heard Liriel's words, but didn't care. He was now disguised as Paladin Flamel. A zealous young master aspiring to be a dutiful priest for The Holy See.
His dream was to be able to stand on his own two feet, marry a beautiful wife, and amass a large sum of money. Eat well and live a good and respectable life. However, it was hard to predict when he'd accomplish all of them.
With such a sweet daydream playing in his mind, Paladin took a step forward. The scenery before him left him a tad disappointed. Men and women dressed in various clothes were walking on the relatively wide stone road.
Occasionally, there were one or two mercenaries carrying goods, sweeping past one red brick house after another. It was obvious that a cleric dressed in the priest's black robe was not uncommon in such a wealthy town. Passers-by simply glanced at him and walked away indifferently.
Uncomfortable, extremely uncomfortable. Paladin had the impression that he was being underestimated. Passers-by only gave him a few sidelong glances in response to his poised new persona. Within him, an unknown rage erupted. O'Neill, who was standing by the carriage's side, noticed Paladin's expression change. So, he politely extended his hand to point at the dilapidated building in front of him and said, "Father Paladin, your church is here."
"Oh! Thanking all of you for escorting me all the way here."
Paladin insincerely took out three gold coins from his sleeve and handed them to O'Neill, who readily accepted them. O'Neill frowned as he watched Paladin carry his luggage and walk towards the church.
Paladin silently stood in front of the large dilapidated wooden door. He swallowed, pushed the door open, and walked in after ensuring O'Neill and the others behind him had left. Creak, clink! The old door creaked and clanked unpleasantly.
A gentle and warm light streamed into the room through the massive glass window, which depicted a portrait of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It added a touch of holiness to the otherwise gloomy church. Paladin lifted the cloth bag in his hand while observing the church’s condition. He pondered about his future after being assigned to this church.
He couldn't help but start shouting, "Is there anyone here? Hello? I am a cleric from Fenrir. I came here on the recommendation of my godfather, Sicily. I am here to serve as a priest."
Paladin didn't expect a gust of cold wind to come from behind him as soon as he finished speaking. Fearful, he jumped away and turned to face the source of the wind. There stood an elderly man dressed in a black robe. His hair was white and his eyes were gloomy. His gaze was locked on Paladin. The vigilant Paladin also noticed the Holy See's symbol embroidered on the robe, which was a coat of arms with two crossed keys and a triple crown in the center. This old man was a priest!
The frightened Paladin calmed himself. The fact that the old man's body was surrounded by dark magic elements nearly knocked him to the ground! Although the number was not large—just over sixty—it was not something a priest should have!
"Kid, are you assigned to serve here?"
The old man turned a blind eye to Paladin being shocked and wary as he held out his hand. At this moment, countless thoughts were racing through Paladin's brain.
‘Is this man a priest here? If not, then is he a black sorcerer who is waiting for the newly appointed priest to hunt them down?’
It's worth noting that the man was surrounded by only about 60 dark elements, which should be enough to kill a real priest.
'Does that imply he is a fallen one? A priest who has faith in the fallen!' Paladin thought.
Paladin carefully took out the letter of recommendation from the bag and handed it to the old man.
"This old gentleman, are you the priest stationed here?" Paladin inquired.
The old man flipped the letter and nodded as if it was a matter of course.
"Please call me Northam, do not call me a priest. I resigned from my position as a priest not long ago."
"Oh? Resignation? Why?" Paladin blurted out, perplexed. It was amazing that someone didn't want to be a priest, which was such a glamorous identity.
Northam opened the envelope and glanced at the contents of the letter. He then spoke slowly and methodically, "I resigned from the priesthood to pursue a life as a missionary. I shall travel the Olosen Continent and spreading the glory of God in every nook and cranny."
Northam nodded perfunctorily and handed the letter back to Paladin. Then he took a stack of black priest robes from a nearby row of seats, as well as the license for the local church and a priest's scepter that was lying around. The old man handed them all to Paladin and said, "This is basically everything you should need. If you believe there is a manpower shortage, go to Hermes Abbey in the east of the city and speak with Phoebe."
Northam suddenly sneered, but his smile somehow looked sad.
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"If you paid enough money, they would specially rush to choose and give you a bunch of beautiful virgin nuns."
Paladin froze when he heard this. Having been initially wary of the other party's dark element, he finally relaxed a little. The Holy See didn’t seem to be as sacred as it appeared on the surface. They were, after all, also human beings with various desires and needs.
‘It's fine. It’ll be more convenient for me to do things this way.’ Paladin thought while secretly laughing in his heart.
Northam picked up the crutch beside him and nonchalantly said, “However, according to the recommendation letter, you are a nobleman. Hey, maybe the nuns won't be enough to satisfy you."
Paladin found himself at a loss for words. He stood there silently watching the depraved priest stumble to the wooden door while clutching his crutch, leaving the church that had been his home for decades.Paladin's eyes flashed with a strange expression as he blurted out, "Northam, why did you abandon your faith in Enos? What benefits did Belial, the God of Darkness, bestow upon you?!"
Bang!
The wooden crutch was violently slammed on the slate floor. Northam slowly turned around. His once gloomy eyes were now filled with murderous intent and shock. Without saying a word, Northam's hand, which was hidden in his sleeve, moved quickly. A dark green magical bullet with the intent of taking life is heading straight for Paladin's head!
Paladin's pupils shrank immediately. When he realized the black magic bullet was about to pierce his skull, he quickly raised his right hand. His entire palm was covered in golden light magic elements. With it, he firmly caught the flying magic bullet. He caught it easily as if he was catching a leather ball!
"What!"
Northam was taken aback when he saw this young priest catch his magical bullet with his bare hands. Bare-handed! Rather than using a magical shield or dodging it, he catches it with his hand! Incredible! Northam was terrified.
But, Paladin wouldn’t give him a chance to stay dazed. Paladin could clearly feel the magic bullet being violently consumed by the dense golden elements coating his hand. Paladin shook his hand roughly without hesitation, causing a ripple to appear. The magic bullet was easily extinguished.
It was too late for Northam to say anything. Paladin stepped hard on the ground, felt the force, and leaped towards Northam with a whoosh. Northam only saw something flashing before Paladin appeared in front of him. Paladin grabbed the wooden staff with one hand, turned around, and hit Northam's rough and wrinkled face with it.
The latter was only able to scream and spit blood from the corner of his mouth. He fell to the ground. Nonetheless, Paladin had no intention of stopping. Without a pause in his movements, his left hand threw away the wooden stick while his right hand slapped Northam on the cheek. The golden magic elements around his hand and the momentum of his movement increased the power of his slap. Northam flew into the air before being pressed onto the hard floor.
Bang! The sound of something cracking came from the floor. Along with it, Paladin felt a liquid gradually wetting the palm of his hand. Only then did he remove his hand and move it to grab Northam's neck. At this point, Northam's face was covered with blood. Several of his teeth had fallen out. Northam could only let out a groan.
"How about that, fallen one? Or should I refer to you as Northam the dark sorcerer?” Paladin stated smugly.
Northam could barely open his eyes. He saw the young man looking down at him condescendingly. The young man's brown eyes were slightly glowing golden in color. Coupled with the eerie smile he cracked right now, he looked like a god!
Northam immediately returned to his senses. He then snidely remarked, "I do not know how you found out. What do you want to do to me? Send me to those Inquisition fanatics? Or do you want to put me to death right here? In the name of Enos?"
Northam continued to speak with strong disappointment and anger in his eyes before Paladin could respond, "Go ahead! Kill me right here! I'll die in the church where I stayed for decades! Anyway, the so-called Holy See has fallen and is no longer pure. The clerics have forgotten their baptismal vows, while the bishops have filled their heads with women and money! Can't Enos see that the Holy See is corrupt?! He sees it, but ignores it! Is He truly the God we seek? He is just some bastard above the clouds who looks down and mocks us, little people!"
"So, is that why you borrowed the power of the dark god, Belial?"
Paladin's smile faded gradually. A strange thought popped into his head and quickly took over his mind. Hearing Paladin's words, Northam, who was losing control, yelled with red eyes, "No! All of the so-called gods are all bastards! Enos is a jerk and Belial is no different! But unlike Enos, who deceived me, Belial is more direct. He gives as much as He gets!"
"Huh? So, what are you planning to do?"
Paladin still looked at Northam from above. The latter believed he had no chance of being spared. With red eyes and a hoarse voice, he yelled, "Destruction! I intend to use Belial’s power to bring down the corrupt Holy See! I want this already clouded Holy See, the abscess planted in the center of Olosen, to be completely erased from the world!"
Paladin smiled slightly. This was one of the few fanatics whose faith had crumbled! What would happen to them next? Of course, they'd be risky and extreme. The black sorcerer, on the other hand, could be useful to Paladin.
‘Perhaps, the matter of collecting the raw materials for the Philosopher's Stone can be handled by this shady Northam.’ Paladin, who was thinking this, nodded slightly. He let go of Northam's neck, completely ignoring the odd look he was giving him. The golden magic elements coiling around his body surged wildly, transforming into a glove with dancing golden arcs attached to Paladin's right hand.
“What is this?! Lost magic? No, no! It's not magic if there are no spells or fluctuations in the four elements! Is it divine power? Impossible! No god would be so generous to give divine power without a chant! What kind of power is this?" Northam’s whole body jumped as he muttered in disbelief when he saw the magic elements that kept changing shape and form on Paladin's hand. He was very taken aback. Paladin proudly raised his hand and the miraculous magic elements that kept changing shapes on his hand vanished without a trace.
Thrilled, Paladin said, “This does not belong to any magical divine power. I call it power against the gods. Northam, are you interested?"
Northam, who was still stunned, quickly calmed down. After seemingly realizing that he was not in danger, he asked quietly, "Kid, what on earth are you trying to do?!"
"Me? It doesn’t matter. You can make use of my strength while I make use of your identity. Also, please address me as Father Paladin!"
Northam bowed his head and remained silent. He was obviously hesitating about something. Meanwhile, Paladin's smiling eyes became colder and colder. If the old man still couldn’t figure out how to behave, he did not mind killing a useful pawn.
Finally, just when Paladin was about to lose his patience, Northam let out a deep sigh. His eyes brightened with excitement and anticipation.
‘This kid's power has never been seen before. So I can't guarantee it will work. If I fully cooperate, there may be a glimmer of hope to eradicate the Holy See!’ Keeping this in mind, Northam raised his head and exclaimed, "Father Paladin!"
Paladin's wide and outlandish smile was the only response he received.
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