As soon as I was left alone, I immediately dismissed the story of the wayward heir from my mind, as it had nothing to do with me. Of course, since I gave my word, I won't keep silent, but I also don't plan to loudly broadcast what I've seen at every turn. Maybe I'll mention it a couple of times, and that should suffice. Primarily, I'll do this because the abbess was straightforward, not trying to manipulate me in the dark. And honestly, I didn't like that young, objectively poorly-raised boy at all. Not because he didn't show the proper respect to the priests - I couldn't care less about that. But because of how he looked at the peasants he passed by - as if they were dirty animals, dust under his feet. The fewer rulers like him, the better this world will indeed become, even if just a little. So, "Sister Gertrude" can rest easy, my story will be heard. And the fact that my motivation is somewhat different is not something the abbess needs to know.
Approaching the altar, I sat down in the lotus position in front of it, an arm's length away. I closed my eyes and immersed myself in light meditation. Tuning myself to the right mood and clearing my mind of all excess, I reached out to the altar with all my soul, mentally reciting the scriptures of Antares from memory.
I felt the presence of the Echo immediately, the very second my consciousness reached the true altar. This time, the sensation was completely different from when I had prayed to the Night Sister. During my prayer to Seguna, I felt attention directed personally at me, but now it seemed as if I was floating on an endless, slightly glowing ghostly sea that enveloped the whole world, and this sea had no concern for me. I was as insignificant to it as a bird sitting on branches or an ant carrying a straw. For about five minutes, I just recited the sacred verses, but not even a slight ripple appeared in this sea, shining with celestial cold light. At the same time, I felt, or rather knew, that I was being heard. But being heard does not mean being paid attention to. In essence, this was also a kind of answer to my prayers. The Echo of Antares clearly showed no interest in me.
Only such a response did not satisfy me. Turning to my Core, I concentrated on my Affinity with Light and, mentally focusing the light emanating from my soul, directed it straight at the altar. Outwardly, it seemed nothing changed, but in the boundless shining sea of Antares's attention, which enveloped the world like a weightless blanket, my soul momentarily shone like a beacon in a dense morning fog. For a few seconds, nothing happened, but soon the "wave of attention" of the Echo arose. It completely engulfed me, dimming the light emanating from me and dissipating without a trace. And then I felt a slight displeasure of the Sky with all my being. The "audience" was over. And I had to stop the prayer.
It seemed I did nothing special, but when I emerged from the depths of meditation, I felt completely drenched in sweat. This was not quite the "welcome" I had expected from the Echo of Antares, especially after helping its light destroy a shard of Da'Nnan's true altar. I had hoped for great favor but instead received indifference. Still, that's not too bad. The main thing is, I'm now fully assured that Antares holds no grudge against me for the insult I inflicted. And the fact that the Light doesn't single me out from the masses might even be for the best.
Moreover, the wave that briefly seemed to engulf me entirely left a small "gift." This gift, however, was clearly a throwaway, given just to make me bug off. It was a new skill called "Manifestation of Light." Or, as some sharp-tongued earthlings called it in the Last Cycle, "Flashlight" or "Hello." This skill allowed one to emit light as if glowing from within. According to the locals, it has no combat application. Beyond simple illumination, for which it was dubbed "flashlight," it's used by local paladins as a form of greeting, hence its second earthling-given name. Essentially, this skill serves merely as a demonstration of the Light and, unlike revealing your Affinity, it is safe to be shown to anyone. It's sort of a greeting among Light devotees, as learning this ability without an Affinity with Light is impossible. This skill grows with a person's Core, and a paladin of the mithril step, using it, could light up, say, the Tries Arena like dozens of powerful floodlights.
Most Light adepts usually receive "Manifestation of Light" as their first Magic skill. So, I can't say I was shortchanged, just given the same as everyone else, without any special distinction. Moreover, the main reason I came here was to make sure Antares really "bore no ill will" towards me, and I got that answer. As for skills and abilities, of course, acquiring spells like "Wrath of Light" or "Fury of the Sun" would have been fantastic, but given the Antares' response, complaining would be useless. Besides, I know that in the future, "Manifestation of Light" could serve as the foundation for quite powerful offensive magic. Light emission plus Illusion magic, which is essentially based mainly on the refraction of light rays, is an obvious combination for any earthling who's finished at least high school.
Emerging from meditation, still without getting up, I raised my hand to my eyes and tried to form an air lens with Illusion Magic. Naturally, nothing came of it the first time, just a vague, misty blot appeared above my hand, like a wisp of smoke. No matter, with persistent training, I'm confident that eventually, I'll succeed and have a heat "laser" at my disposal, its power growing along with my Core.
Rising from the prayer mat, I had a light smile on my face. Standing up, I performed a ceremonial bow, and as I straightened, I heard footsteps behind me. Turning smoothly, I saw the abbess descending the spiral staircase. I had no doubt that she felt the end of my prayer and appeared precisely then, neither earlier nor later.
"Happy for you, Brother Raven," she said genuinely. "To be Heard is no small feat." The woman in white let out an exaggerated sigh. "Even I rarely receive personal attention from the Sky," the abbess added with a hint of melancholy.
"This was my first full-fledged prayer to the Sky since gaining Affinity," I blurted out; luckily, she seemed to miss that remark.
Approaching closer, the abbess stopped at an arm's length away and scrutinized me from head to toe.
"You're so young, yet you've reached Wootz," she stated matter-of-factly. "Many celebrated paladins served as sheriffs before dedicating their lives to the Justice of the Sky," she hinted, and I understood her implication. "And Ger Galhad, the Knight of the Punishing Light, the greatest of paladins in the last millennium, like you, was marked by Ishid," her gaze fixed on my Guild Sign. "Under Sir Galhad's command, the Light Conclave reached unprecedented heights." I wasn't too fond of these implications.
"I'm merely following in the path of Sundbad," I said, feigning a guilty look and spreading my hands.
"And your Path is undoubtedly graced by the Sky's attention," the woman in white declared confidently.
"Undoubtedly," I echoed, not intending to argue with her. Let her think what she wants; persuading her otherwise is not in my interest.
"I'm sure it won't be long before your Path leads you to Sun City."
"I am indeed heading to the Pentapolis," I agreed, omitting that my actual destination is not Sun City but Deytran.
"Indeed…" She smiled, her right hand slipping into her sleeve and reappearing with a small box. "Lady Joanna, bearer of the Peaceful Light..."
Ah, I've seen this "Peaceful Light," a two-handed hammer weighing at least thirty kilograms, which could pacify anyone, even without any magic.
"She collects river shells. We were quite close as young novices, but I'm afraid temple duties won't allow me to visit Sun City for a year or two. Could you, Brother Raven, when you're in Sun City, deliver this small gift and, of course, my warm regards to Lady Joanna?"
She opened the box slightly, revealing an ordinary river shell inside, albeit of a somewhat unusual shape.
"I'm afraid I don't know how soon I can be in Sun City," I tried to politely refuse, but the woman in white just casually dismissed my words.
"Don't worry, there's no rush. Pass it on when you can," she insisted, practically pushing the small box into my hand.
"I'll try," I replied, forced to accept the box, no larger than a thumb's phalanx, and tucked it into my purse under the abbess's watchful eye.
"And don't forget to convey my best wishes and tell her that I miss her," she added.
"Certainly," I said, bowing as low as possible to hide the slight irritation in my eyes. I was sure there was nothing unusual about either the box or the shell; they were exactly what they seemed. No traps. The real snare lay elsewhere. Thanks to my "memory of the future," I knew that Lady Joanna, a paladin of the Order of Antares, was not only responsible for recruiting novices in Sun City but also actively sought worthy candidates for initiation. In other words, "Sister Gertrude" practically directed me to the paladin conclave's primary recruiter. And she did it not out of self-interest but purely for noble reasons. Noble from the perspective of serving the Light, but whether I needed it or not was of no concern to this woman in white.
It's a pity that in the Last Cycle, the most influential religious organization in Ain not only failed to help repel the Invasion but also initially actively hindered it. Not because the servants of the Light were hidden demon-worshippers, of course not. Their doctrines were to blame. They sincerely believed that as long as the Towers stood, there could be no talk of an Invasion. Their god, the Sun itself, had imprisoned his soul in one of these Towers, sacrificing himself to close the interworld Gates. For a long time, any mention of demons invading Ain was considered heresy and blasphemy by the adherents of Antares. In their world paradigm, as long as the Tower of their god, which they guarded with all their might, stood, there could be no discussion of demonic legions invading. To admit such a thought would be to accept that Antares' sacrifice was in vain. They even declared all news of demons to be lies and heresy, actively opposing the general mobilization efforts we led. It nearly came to an outright declaration of war from Sun City against the other cities of the Pentapolis, so unwilling were the devotees of the Light to accept this harsh truth. As far as I know, it was Dice who prevented the worst from happening. But how he managed to convince the stubborn paladins and high priests of Antares that the Invasion was not a fabrication, not heresy, and not some mass Overflow that had engulfed half the world, even the avid drinker couldn't recall.
The terrible truth and its realization shattered many of the Light's adepts. Until the very last moment, the servants of Antares couldn't accept this truth, and it was only when the demonic legions camped within a day's march of the Pentapolis that they joined the battle.
My fingers touched the purse containing the box with the shell. What if I took a different path? Changed the strategy. Thanks to my Affinity with Light and my skills, I would easily pass the selection for the Order. By the time of the Invasion, if I ascend to the Heroic Coil, I would become a full-fledged paladin and could influence the situation from within...
If it weren't for my knowledge about the Shards, this path might indeed seem very promising. But not now. Even an Order of Paladins, fully assembled, couldn't fundamentally change the situation at the beginning of the Invasion. Yes, the Order is a mighty force. When they finally joined the fight, they annihilated two entire demonic legions... Sadly, they all perished. Every single one. None fled, and none showed their back. Even in the face of the Monstrous Prince of Demons, none showed a hint of weakness. If the stubborn servants of Light had listened to us and waited for the assembly of all forces instead of rushing into the attack with their characteristic fury and faith, the Last Battle would have been much more challenging for the demons. No, even then, we wouldn't have won, I'm sure of that, but the battle would have gone differently. Anyway, what does it matter if the end result remains unchanged…
"Brother Raven, does my request really trouble you?" the abbess misinterpreted my contemplation.
"No, not at all," I smiled, "I'll definitely deliver your gift and kind words to Lady Joanna, the bearer of the Peaceful Light. It won't trouble me in the least; I'm just not sure if my journey will be as direct as a ray of sunlight."
"No matter, Brother Raven," her hand rose up and blessed me with Light, "won't you stay for today's celebration?"
Stolen story; please report.
"Alas, Sister Gertrude, the Road awaits me," I replied as grandiosely as possible.
"In that case, I dare not keep a brother in the Light."
Nodding to her, I walked over to my belongings, slung the bags and case over my shoulder, took the Striking Whisper in hand, and, turning to bid farewell to the abbess, bowed deeply.
"May the Sky illuminate your Path, Brother Raven."
"May the blessing of the Light be eternal within these walls," I replied just as politely and, accompanied by a kind smile, stepped through the temple doors.
Only when the gate doors closed behind me did I allow myself a deep, heavy sigh. The beige-clad guards, frozen like statues near the gates, didn't even turn their heads towards me, though they certainly noticed my appearance. Adjusting a slipping strap of one of the bags, I placed the spear's shaft on my shoulder and, resisting the urge to start whistling a cheerful tune, began descending the stairs.
To my mild surprise, the baron's son and his mentor had not yet left the clearing in front of the temple. I thought they would have fled in haste after the young heir's disgrace was witnessed by so many, but instead of acting in such a manner, the young man decided to vent his bad mood on the peasants. He approached them, scolding with a clearly displeased expression, while his mentor stood slightly behind, not even attempting to stop him.
I was genuinely irritated by such people who think it's normal to vent their bad mood and irritation on others. Activating my Aura of Perception, I listened to the boy's tirade. Unfortunately, he was careful and didn't cross the line where I could step in and give him a piece of my mind. The boy scolded the peasants for their improper appearance, for their alleged disrespect, and for coming here instead of working in the fields. He avoided direct insults, only using veiled ones. An unpleasant character.
As for his mentor, he demonstratively didn't interfere, showing with his demeanor how much he was fed up with this job. Likely, the volatility and manners of his "apprentice" suited him well. Instead of trying to appease the peasants who saw him thrown out of the temple steps, the boy was acting in a way that ensured the locals wouldn't keep this story a secret.
My arrival did not go unnoticed. Hastily saying something to the village elder, the young heir waved his hand in irritation and, with a cold expression on his face, started walking towards me. Could he be foolish enough to pick a fight with me? I almost wished he would make such a blunder. Of course, I wouldn't be able to physically reprimand the boy, as his mentor wouldn't allow it, but one can trample a person with words too. Especially since several biting phrases were already tickling my tongue, begging to be voiced.
Only when there were about ten steps between us did the young noble discern the inscription on my chest. Apparently, he had been taught something and knew the basics of heraldry. By local norms, only nobles have the right to a motto. Noticing the inscription on my cotta, the boy correctly interpreted it, immediately changed his expression, turned to his mentor, and started scolding him, pretending as if he never intended to interact with me. What a cunning and cautious little rat! Quick to shout at peasants, hiding behind his noble status and the presence of his Precious Coil mentor, but when it comes to addressing a nobleman, he instantly retreats.
Our eyes met with the heir's mentor, and he shrugged slightly, guiltily, as if apologizing for his wayward student's behavior. In response, I couldn't resist and, slightly lifting my hand, briefly activated "Manifestation of Light," enveloping my hand in a faint glow, and winked at this no longer young warrior. My gesture was fleeting, and no one else noticed it. Then, without lingering, I quickened my pace.
Within two minutes, the white stone path curved, and the temple and the clearing in front of it disappeared behind the slope of the next hill. Glancing back to ensure no one was watching me, I switched to the familiar run. I ran not too fast, focusing not on the road but on experimenting with my new spell. While I'm still on the Metallic Coil of the Spiral, turning it into something combative is unlikely. However, in the future, it could indeed prove very useful.
"Manifestation of Light" had two modes of operation. In the first, I could make any part of my body glow, like my hand. In the second, I could emit a cone of light. Precisely this detail earned this spell the derogatory name "flashlight" among earthlings. What pleased me was that this magic used very little energy to maintain itself, and if desired, I could light my path in some dark dungeon continuously for about an hour.
After playing with the new ability for about twenty minutes, I tried to create an optical lens using Illusion Magic. On one hand, it was even easier than animated drawings on the skin, as the shape was simple and essentially transparent. On the other hand, there was a complication since a lens is still a three-dimensional object, and I had significant difficulties with such "images." I hope it's just "for now," and I'll eventually make some breakthroughs in this area.
Darn it! What a dilemma! I felt like I was caught between two fires. On one side of the scale was the understanding that my arsenal of skills and spells needed expansion. On the other was the realization that I wasn't mastering what I already had to a sufficient degree. I've been trying to develop everything evenly, and there's a benefit to this approach. But due to this even distribution of effort and time, I haven't yet achieved significant success in anything. Yes, I can create moving images on my skin, but I still can't transfer them outside my body. Without mastering this skill, the use of Runes is severely limited. And so it is with everything, except the simplest spells, in which I have made some definite progress. For instance, I now naturally incorporate "Discharge" into my fighting style. The same goes for "Bull's Strength," and I think I'll be able to use the recently learned "Cleave" instinctively in about a week. Probably, this is how I should continue training. I should practice simple combat skills and spells immediately until they become intuitive and then devote the remaining time to complex magic, like Illusions, Mental, and Runes. With this thought, I "set aside" the experiments with creating a lens and focused on practicing "Cleave," alternating its focus between the blade of Striking Whisper and my fingertips.
What's great about persistent training is that it sweeps away all the distracted thoughts from your mind. While I was tracking the flow and intertwining of Magic and Spirit, refining the use of "Cleave," I didn't think at all about the conversation I had with the abbess of the Temple. Only when I stopped for a small break to have a proper lunch instead of choking on food on the run did my thoughts return to that dialogue.
In the Last Cycle, "I" avoided close interaction with the servants of Light, fearing the consequences, as I was an adept of the Shadow. As a result, my knowledge about the priests of Antares was mainly derived from others' stories. However, even such a brief conversation with "Sister Gertrude" clearly showed that my knowledge, largely gleaned from others' tales, didn't quite reflect reality. Previously, I had thought of the adepts of Light as straightforward, solving problems head-on. But the dialogue with the abbess of the Temple of the Dawn Glimmer revealed another side. It turns out that when necessary, the priests of Antares can and do engage in intrigues. They don't like it, as was evident from the expression on the abbess's face, and they don't find it pleasant, but if necessary, they are capable of such actions. If I decide to change the position of the servants of Antares regarding the Invasion in this Cycle, I must keep this detail in mind. Though, I haven't even the slightest idea of how to approach solving this problem yet. But if I come up with something, the Order of Paladins, entering the war against the demons at the beginning of the Invasion, could greatly change the initial balance of power in our favor. After all, a dozen united, group-wise efficient fighters of Mithril, not to mention almost fifty warriors, mages, and priests of the Heroic Coil of the Spiral, albeit of the lower Ranks, is quite significant. And the servants of Antares themselves, even without considering the combat wing, are perhaps the most influential force among the priests of the Pantheon, which also should not be discounted.
While eating, I tried to approach the issue from different angles, but no constructive thoughts came to mind. Of course, I could try to solve this problem from the inside by joining the Order of Paladins myself. I had everything necessary for such an entry. Moreover, many who became paladins started their path as tunnellers, and, as the abbess of the Temple of the Dawn Glimmer said, there were even those in the corps who had served as sheriffs for some time. One of the most famous paladins of the last millennium, like me, was blessed by Ishid, meaning he was a Sheriff of the Book. Additionally, I had a sort of patronage in the form of "send greetings and a small package to Sister Joanna." But this path requires a complete review of my development and might also put an end to my use of Shadow. Implementing such an "infiltration" would make me fail the questers' task of finding forgotten altars of Seguna and, in essence, cut myself off from the Shadow. Is it worth it? I'm not sure. For now, it seems to me that the original strategy of pushing earthlings, especially the Shards, towards faster and better development is still more promising. And sincere service to the Light would impose a huge number of restrictions on me. Of course, I would acquire new, quite powerful abilities and spells, but still, for me, it wouldn't be what you could call an equivalent exchange. If I had not one year but five years, within which I could attain a really high position in the Order, then this infiltration strategy might be viable. But now, the pros do not outweigh the potential cons.
After having a hot meal, I extinguished the fire, cleaned up the traces of my stay in this small, secluded clearing, gathered my things, and continued on my way.
Avoiding human settlements and busy tracks, I reached one of the nearest towns in the Rur region about an hour and a half before sunset. In eastern Ain, this settlement, proudly named Stolmid[1], would not be called a city by anyone; rather, it's a large village, albeit surrounded by a stone wall. Visiting this place was not part of my original plans, but I was so tired of all these bags that I firmly decided to find a good craftsman who would sew a proper, spacious, and comfortable backpack according to my designs.
Passing by the guards at the gate, instead of an entrance fee, I flashed a Nobility brooch. Not that I begrudged the copper, but since I could pass for free, why not take advantage of it. I could have passed by showing the Sheriff's Guild Sign, but the local guards were poorly versed in heraldry and couldn't decipher the image of Ishid's Scroll on it. Of course, I could have explained it to them, but I was too lazy, so I simply pulled out the brooch from my purse and walked through the gates, not bothering to enlighten the local guard.
As soon as I arrived in the city, I called over a boy around twelve years old and, flipping him a small coin, asked him to lead me to a good inn and inquired about local craftsmen. To my slight disappointment, the boy hadn't heard of any young master named Kay or Katashi. Could I have been mistaken, or had the future god of Labor been thrown far from this area famous for its blacksmiths this time around? It was frustrating and regrettable, but there was nothing I could do about it.
After renting a room for the night at the inn the boy led me to, I changed into city attire and, taking only my backpack and spear, went down to the front desk to inquire about local tailors and leatherworkers. I visited the nearest workshop the attendant suggested, and, to my relief, it was owned by a relatively young, and therefore not too set in his ways, craftsman. We quickly found common ground. Of course, at first, he didn't quite understand what I wanted and how a backpack could be the way I illustrated it. But Illusion magic and the promise of generous payment helped us reach an agreement.
To fit all my belongings and avoid carrying bags in my hands, I needed something like an Earthly hiking backpack, at least sixty liters in capacity. I depicted this to the master and then explained in much more detail how to make it. Which areas to reinforce with sturdy leather and exactly how to attach the straps. Of course, my general sketches only provided an overall picture, but detailed verbal explanations finally got through to the master, and he grasped the general idea. Once this breakthrough occurred, everything else went more smoothly. I don't think he'll get it right on the first try, but let him give it a shot. I'll visit him again in the morning and ask for adjustments, pointing out the many errors and inaccuracies I'm sure will be there. This will almost double the total cost, but it's better to get it right the first time than to suffer like I am now!
I left the tailor's shop at sunset. Like any other city in the Rur region, Stolmid had many stores selling blacksmithing products. There was even a whole street where, it seemed to me, every house had such a shop. I turned onto it, peeking into these stores one by one, eyeing various armors and engaging in leisurely conversations with the city's merchants.
The assortment in all the shops was very similar: ordinary weapons and armor, the only difference being their external decorations, like various engravings or intricate weaving. But what else could I expect? Truly skilled craftsmen don't linger long in such backwaters. Nevertheless, all the armor, blades, and other weapons on display were of a certain, quite high standard. It was evident that the local blacksmith guilds and associations maintained quality control, ensuring that no inferior products ended up on the shelves. And the local prices were pleasantly surprising. A decent double-woven chainmail of medium-sized rings could be acquired for just nine gold coins. The range was quite satisfactory, too, allowing me to choose a chainmail off the rack without spending too much time on fitting.
Of course, I didn't buy anything that evening. Just talked, looked around, and that was it. I didn't find anything particularly appealing, so I decided there was no rush. Turning into the last shop on my way to the inn, which was the seventh I had visited, I froze in awe as soon as I stepped through the door.
"Ah! The sir seems taken with the armor I just brought in this morning!" exclaimed the shopkeeper, a not-so-young but sprightly and agile man, rushing over to me. "It's quite unique and beautiful, isn't it? Wearing it, you'll stand out in the crowd, and many women won't be able to take their eyes off you!"
"It's beautiful, indeed," I managed to say, swallowing a lump in my throat and gently touching the metal breastplate lined with thick leather.
What I did not expect to find here was a classic do-maru, a lamellar plate armor of the Japanese school crafted to all the traditional standards. This was not something that could be replicated from a drawing or memory, having seen it once in a movie or a painting. Sure, one could create something inspired by it, but my fingers were now touching a do-maru made following all the rules, with all its metal linings, lacquered wooden inserts, and external silk ties.
Turning the lamellar shoulder guard over, I saw an image resembling the letters "TJ"[2], seemingly trying to run to the right. A Japanese character meaning "sword".
[1] TLN: "proudly named" likely refers to the first half of the name Stolmid, sounding similar to the word "capital" in the original language.
[2] TLN: 刀 is the actual sign.