Chapter 71. Designation of a Saint (2)
Stick with the winning team. Isaac flashed a grin. It was definitely a solid response.
“Well played.”
And that was that. No need for cheesy lines like “You’ll always be my right-hand” or “Nice choice picking my side.”
Isaac trusted Hesabel to stay loyal if she said she would. He was feeling pretty good about his chances to win. Hesabel, looking a bit unsure, rose and inquired, “Did you run into the Mirror Handmaiden?”
“Yup.”
“I’m curious, what did your Mirror Handmaiden look like to you…”
Isaac cocked his head, puzzled by Hesabel’s question.
“Why do you want to know?”
“I’ve heard that the Mirror Handmaiden takes on the form of the person it’s talking to, but it amps up the beauty or grandeur to stroke the person’s ego. But since you’re already top-notch, I can’t imagine how it could have topped that.”
“…”
Isaac was gonna say it looked the same, but thought better of it – didn’t want to come off as full of himself.
Hesabel glanced around. The once half-done sanctuary that the Prophet of Flesh had been working on? Totally transformed into a mysterious Sanctuary of Chaos.
It was odd, but somehow soothing to Hesabel.
“The Mirror Handmaiden finished off the sanctuary.”
Must’ve taken a ton of power and work to even halfway build it, and Isaac had taken control of the whole thing. Out of the blue, Isaac brought up something with Hesabel.
“I heard there were plans to awaken an ancient god here.”
Talking like it was just raising cattle, but in Isaac’s mind, ancient gods were no different from livestock to be bred and devoured.
“Livestock? Livestock, huh…”
Isaac had a spark of an idea.
“Instead of chasing down others’ ancient gods, why not cultivate and consume my own? Seems more efficient, right?”
But it was more of a passing thought. Actually making it happen? Tricky business.
Raising a single Zihilrat had taken ages. Although, Zihilrat was being kept under lock and key due to the Codex of Light in the monastery’s basement.
Still, if bringing up ancient gods was possible, it might be worth exploring with Zihilrat. Conveniently, the previous owner of the place Isaac now ruled was nowhere to be found.
“I should just take charge here.”
Originally, he had planned on just claiming a piece of the land, but after recent events, he figured better safe than sorry by running the whole show. A humble Grail Knight shouldn’t really desire a domain. But after besting the Prophet of Red Flesh, his mindset had shifted.
“A few farms won’t cut it.” As he soaked in the sanctuary, Isaac’s senses expanded from Hendrake Castle, similar to what had happened at the Ariet Monastery. And he stumbled upon something incredible.
This place was loaded with divine energy. It was like a holy hotspot, where miracles could pop off at any minute. That kind of environment didn’t just happen on its own. Someone had for sure set things up here long ago.
“To whoever set this up, cheers.” Isaac was dead set on seizing this domain.
To make that happen, he’d need to tackle a bunch of hurdles.
Not long after, a crew of horsemen rolled into Hendrake’s territory.
Isaac had a heads-up about their arrival even before they showed up, thanks to the trio of crows circling above Hendrake Castle. These were the folks from the Order of the Codex of Light, finally making their grand entrance as Reinhardt had hinted. Knowing that crows usually signal an Inquisitor’s arrival to scope out the area, Isaac felt a sense of déjà vu.
“But it looks bigger than what I heard?”
Isaac watched the crew make their way towards Hendrake Castle from the gate.
Knights decked out in heavy white silver armor and all sorts of weapons. Although they didn’t have any emblems showing their allegiance, there were at least five paladins among them.
When the paladins crossed paths with Isaac, they just made way without any hellos.
An elderly high-ranking priest emerged from behind the paladins. A young cleric, who seemed to be aiding the priest, piped up.
“May the Light show you the way. Are you Sir Isaac, the Grail Knight?”
“That’s me.”
Isaac replied humbly, and the young man turned back to the elderly priest with joy. The priest muttered something inaudible with his wrinkled face, but the young cleric repeated his words.
“This is Bishop Juan Liard. Pleasure to meet you.”
“Bishop?”
Isaac was taken aback but didn’t let it show. He had been expecting a top-tier clergy member to show up, but a bishop was a role involved in selecting the pope, a rarity in the Empire.
Only then did Isaac size up the group differently.
Paladins and a bishop, two helper clerics, and in the rear, folks in sleek outfits with hoods covering their faces deeply—likely Inquisitors.
“They’re geared up for a battle.”
With five skilled paladins and the powers of a bishop, a rural castle like this could easily fall. They must have brought just the right amount of forces, knowing Reinhardt’s troops were already there.
“Are they going all out just for a debt collection?”
Seemed like overkill, even for debt collectors. Dispatching only one or two paladins would have been plenty to make Kyle cave in, no need for a bishop. But there was a hint of disappointment and resentment on the paladins’ faces.
Isaac grasped the situation from their expressions.
“The news of the Prophet of the Red Flesh must’ve caused a frenzy to add more hands.”
The Prophet of the Red Flesh was quickly dispatched by Isaac upon appearing. So, the word they got must have been about a divine being popping up and getting taken down swiftly by a Grail Knight. A hard tale to swallow, and not a common sight, so they had to bring a carefully curated squad.
The arrival of a divine being generally stirs more trouble after the fact than during the event itself.
The young cleric spoke up again.
“We’ve got plenty to talk about with you. But first, can we come in and chat?”
“The castle’s still a mess.”
Bishop Juan whispered something again, and the young cleric relayed his words.
“It’s fine. Bishop Juan insists. Having gone through the Dawn Wars, the bishop is no stranger to roughing it out. He wants to see any remnants of the unholy presence first.”
With no reason to turn them away, and if their focus leaned more towards celestial scuffles than money matters, it boded well, if not neutrally, for Isaac.
“Sure thing. C’mon in,” Isaac gestured, leading the way through the castle gates. But the group hesitated for a moment. The bishop clasped his hands, mumbling a prayer. Suddenly, a soft glow surrounded Isaac and the group.
“The Lighthouse of the Watchers… they’re freaked out about curses,” one of them mentioned. Isaac knew this magic was handy, shielding against curses and reducing their impact by half. Those Celestials sure knew how to leave a nasty curse behind, hence the precautions.
The tricky part was that Isaac had been in the castle for two days already. Reinhardt’s soldiers trusted him to ward off curses, but the bishop and paladins weren’t so convinced yet.
“No issues so far,” Isaac reassured them.
“You can never be too cautious,” the young cleric replied with a gentle smile.
Isaac wasn’t bothered. He saw it as a safety measure, like wearing a mask in a dodgy area.
With the paladins leading the way, the bishop’s crew entered the castle. Following behind them were Inquisitors, some with crows perched on their shoulders or heads.
As they passed by, most eyes were on Isaac, except for one Inquisitor who casually flicked a finger at him. Looking up, Isaac recognized the face – Isolde Brant.
“As expected,” he thought. Her presence among the crows didn’t go unnoticed.
With a small smile and a quick hand gesture, Isolde hinted at a private chat later.
***
The bishop and paladins were engrossed in investigating the spot where Isaac had faced off against the Prophet of Red Flesh. Isaac was left out, to provide his account later.
“I feel like I’m being eyed suspiciously here,” he muttered.
While the investigation rolled on, the Inquisitors were grilling the soldiers about the event. Isolde, on the other hand, was deep in conversation with Isaac.
Isolde chuckled at his remark. “Not suspicion, just documentation. It’s not every day you get to witness and gather data on a celestial being from another faith. Subduing one? That’s going in the history books.”
Isaac decided to be more understanding. He knew anyone would raise an eyebrow at a rookie Grail Knight taking down a celestial being.
“Good thing there were plenty of witnesses,” he nodded, having fought in the open partially to weaken the Prophet but also for his feat to be witnessed and confirmed.
Aware of the potential dangers due to his heritage and the hidden evil within him, Isaac knew maintaining a clean image was crucial for his survival. Which is why he had to be careful, even with his powers.
“So, did you really beat the Prophet of Red Flesh, or did it just retreat?” Isolde asked.
“Definitely beat it,” Isaac confirmed.
“I can’t believe it…” Isolde trailed off, then quickly added, “I mean, that’s impressive!”
“Aw, I totally trust you. It’s just, like, such a mind-blowing thing! Those celestials from the Red Chalice Club are notorious for bouncing at the first sign of trouble, so there’s like zero proof of them ever being taken down.”
Taking down a celestial and just holding one back are like two different ball games. Beating one down is whatever, but really getting to their core? That’s some heavy stuff that could mess with their whole belief system.
“That’s why the bishop and the paladins are all up in this, checking if the dude who showed up was legit the Prophet of Red Flesh, or if it was mistaken for being subdued after it bolted.”
“But boy, those Inquisitors are giving me the evil eye.”
“Uh-oh… things are about to get a tad more serious.”
Isolde flashed a sly grin.
“A tad more serious?”
“Yeah, if it turns out that you did, in fact, take down the Prophet of Red Flesh all by yourself… well.”
Isolde seemed unsure whether to spill the tea, but couldn’t resist dropping a spoiler.
“After they confirm your holiness, word is they wanna make you a saint.”
