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***Priest Vermus***
8 years earlier
It was a chill, overcast morning when I reached my destination.
I had been assigned the duty of blessing the gladiators of the Magnus school.
“Welcome, priest Vermus,” said the lanista as I entered.
I nodded at him as I looked around.
The building was spartan. No art, no tapestry, no decoration — nothing but the essential.
Not that I should have expected anything else. The place wasn’t exactly full of cultured people.
“We have been waiting a long time for a priest to finally show up,” he said as he led me to the small chapel in the back.
“I’m sure the high priestess had other more pressing matters to attend to,” I said as we entered the chapel.
A few other lanistas were waiting there, not even getting up from their sitting positions while greeting me.
Uneducated fools, I thought as I nodded at their greetings — any more than that would have been too demeaning.
I was assigned the duty to bless the gladiators with their Classes, Skills, and Levels. Every job that served to spread the gods’ faith was a glorious job, but that didn’t mean I had to be happy to interact with these fools.
“Have you called the gladiators?” I asked as I took my place in front of the small altar with the seven entwined hands symbolizing the pantheon.
The place was actually irrelevant, since a Priest was the conduit of the divine will himself, but it was proper to carry out the blessings in consecrated sanctuaries.
The chapel was as bare as the rest of the building, with just a few benches and the altar, but that was good enough for them.
“A few of my colleagues went as soon as you arrived. They should be almost here,” he said, taking place in one of the benches on the sides of the hall.
Good, the less time I spend here, the better.
Indeed, soon after my question, they came in. Only a few dozen of them this time. Their presence, added to the lanistas, made the room feel stuffed.
I almost sighed, but I held back. Regardless of what I thought of them, I was here on behalf of the gods, it would be remiss of me to show such behavior. And the close contact with the gods will make the time pass faster — time always passed too fast when I felt their touch.
“Let’s begin then,” I said, motioning for the first gladiator to come and kneel.
As soon as I activated my Blessing Skill, I felt the overwhelming presence of the gods, their will and power coursing through me, making me feel omnipotent and infinitesimally small at the same time. It was both exhilarating and humbling. The joy I felt overshadowed all existing troubles and annoyances.
The power flowed through me to the hand I held over the gladiator’s head.
They were barely worthy of such grace but, like everyone else, they too had their place — a tool to spread the glory of the gods. As crude as they were, their fights were a good enough show of how much we benefited from the gods’ gifts.
All too soon, the gladiator ended his upgrades, and I felt the power ebb away. Then proceeded to the next.
I exhaled as they were being led out by a few lanistas.
“We have finished, it seems. I will visit next—” I started to say, but I was interrupted by a cough.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Um,” said the man who brought me inside before, looking slightly embarrassed. “We still have one more.”
I raised an eyebrow, trying to conceal my annoyance. “And why isn’t he here?”
“Well,” he said, with some hesitation, “The last one is a boy. He’s been here for many years, and now it’s time for him to take a Class — it’s quite late, truthfully.”
He then looked at the other men, who looked equally uncomfortable.
“He’s quite talented. You may not know, since you just arrived in the Capital, but despite being without a Class he already participated, and won a few games,” the gladiator said.
He’s wasting my time.
“The point please.” This was really becoming a test of my patience.
“Right, I apologize,” he said, rubbing his head. “The problem is that he’s refusing to get a Class, and he’s quite stubborn about it — and quite vocal, too.”
“He’s the most hard-headed fool I've ever seen. And I’ve seen a lot,” interjected one of the lanistas. Many others nodded at that comment.
“Maybe you should have been harsher in his education, then,” I said, allowing some of the annoyance I felt to slip out.
“Oh, trust me, we’ve done everything,” continued the same guy, “But he was already crazy enough before — his training is almost like torture — and adding a beating or two didn’t make much of a difference. It actually made him madder.”
They all nodded.
“Yes, we had to tie and gag him — it wasn’t an easy feat. He’s outside the door, probably still trying to crawl away,” another added, making a few of them chuckle.
Really a distasteful lot.
“It matters not. Bring him in,” I said, hoping they would stop this farce.
The lanista who spoke first hinted at the door, and two others went out, coming back in while dragging a struggling boy.
The “boy” was almost as big as the other guys, and he struggled quite a bit.
I looked while they made him kneel in front of me and kept him still.
I hinted at his gag. “Let him speak.”
One of them looked at me and said. “I advise against that.”
“The gods don’t force anyone to believe them. Dragging him here tied up is already a mar on the gods’ reputation — not letting him speak would be even worse,” I said to this group of fools. “And his words will not have any effect on me.”
He shrugged, moving to take the gag off.
I looked at the guy who was still struggling. “Anyway, when you feel the gods’ touch, you’ll understand your folly. Everyone does, after all.”
"You, fuckers!" He shouted as soon as the gag came off, "You can’t force me to choose a damn Class! Fuck you and your gods! And you cocksucker! Gods’ touch, my ass! I’m going to grab those damn gods and thrust them up your arse then beat you until you shit them out, make you eat your shit, and beat you until you throw it up again! You understand, you bastard!? Keep your fucking hands up your damn ass!!!"
I ignored his ramblings and activated my Skill, feeling the power of the gods coursing through me with the ecstasy it brought.
I then channeled it through my hand, enveloping him and shutting his mouth.
Waiting, I expected the power to recede like the other times after he made his choice.
Then, suddenly, the power rebounded back, hitting me like a hammer on the head and making me stagger, almost falling to the ground. A feeling of hurt passed through me.
What happened?!?
I heard a roar while I was still trying to steady myself. Someone shouted, and I heard a dull sound.
After that, the boy yelled, “YOU FUCKING THINGS!!! YOU THINK YOU CAN MAKE ME LICK YOUR ASS WITH YOUR BRAINWASHING?!? I’LL KILL YOU!!!!”
Rage welled up within me as soon as I gathered my wits. “WHAT DID YOU DO?!? YOU HERETIC!!”
I tried to grab him, but I was stopped by one of the lanistas. The madman, sporting a bloody mouth, kept struggling against the men holding him. He then spit on my white robe, staining it with saliva and blood.
“YOU—” he began again. They didn't let him continue, though, a few blows on the head making him unconscious.
“What happened?!” asked one of the lanistas.
“That heretic! He refused the gods’ blessing!” I yelled, still enraged.
They all looked at a loss on what to do.
“We are extremely sorry,” apologized one of them, still not understanding, evidently.
“The bastard refused the gods’ blessing! He’s not taken a Class!” I shouted.
They didn’t seem to understand my rage. These worthless fools!!!
They brought him away, not letting me take the heretic to the church. I left the gladiators’ school, swearing I would end that bastard.
After that day, I tried in every way to have him disposed of for his offense, without any success.
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Present day
Again. Again!!! That heretic managed to avoid death once again!
They foolishly promised him freedom, and now he was free!! This is heresy!!!
I walked to the Divine Archive, towards the section I was supervising.
They thought he died, but not me, I would not rest until I saw his body.
I opened the book regarding the census of the people I blessed and located his name.
There, under the name Silvester and his description, laid the status “Unblessed”.
I only hesitated for an instant before deleting the entry and adding “Heathen”.
It’s the truth, after all. That man is a heretic, and as one he should be treated.
I closed the book and put it back on the shelf, its content shared among all other archives.
He may survive here in the capital, but should he ever leave, he won’t live to regret it.
And I will make sure he leaves. Even if it's the last thing I do, I thought while walking back to my chambers.
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