“Phew.” Schwarz let out a sigh as he closed the door behind him. “Man, that was tiring.”
“Which one? Interacting with the Holy Children of the Coloured Gods, or just Holy Daughter Clarissa?” a voice piped up.
“Obviously it’s the latt—” Schwarz clammed up a moment later, having realised that Holy Son Nero was still in the room. In fact, he was actually the one who had brought up that question, a fact that Claud had noted with some amusement.
Holy Son Nero was quite the breath of fresh air, compared to the stuffy personality that was the Holy Daughter of the White God.
The bartender eyed Nero with a long-suffering expression, and then decided not to pursue the topic. Instead, he pulled out a small, palm-size bottle from his jacket, making it float above his hand with some mana. “See this?”
Nero gulped.
Claud breathed in really slowly, controlling every single reaction his body might have had produced with sublime focus. This was probably not how such a distinguished personage should act, but to say that out loud was simply courting trouble. He glanced at the others, who were all somehow managing their emotions better than him, and then mocked himself inwardly.
It was natural that the others were better. All of them were either nobles or important people that had been exposed to the profound ways of etiquette, so…
“I’ll pour out some for you later,” said Schwarz.
“Looking forward to it,” said Nero. “So. Right. Today’s agenda…let me take out my notes for a moment. I haven’t exercised my brain for three years, so do pardon me.”
He had a sad smile on his face. It was the kind of smile that would only surface in times of deep grief, when one thought about their deceased friends and family. The Holy Son was mourning someone, and it didn’t take much for Claud to draw the dots.
“Something wrong?” Claud found himself asking, his words abnormally gentle.
“Just thinking about my guards,” Nero replied, a touch of loneliness adorning his sorrowful smile. “They…probably aren’t alive anymore.”
Schwarz stared at him, and then poured out a cup of alcohol, before sliding it to him. Lily had an understanding expression on her face, while Farah and Dia were clearly uncomfortable with this topic. Risti, however, was completely emotionless, her eyes seemingly fixed onto something distant.
Claud lowered his eyes a second later. Risti, at this moment, somewhat reminded him of Holy Daughter Clarissa, save for the nauseating pity that was near-omnipresent in the latter’s eyes. What was she thinking at this moment? Was there something he didn’t know?
Suppressing his curiosity, he returned his attention to Nero, who was drinking from his cup and babbling uncontrollably. The Holy Son of the Black God looked very much like an ordinary person right now, like one of Schwarz’s patrons drinking their sorrows away. It was a sight that resonated with Claud, a sight that he couldn’t tear his gaze away from.
Sobbing incoherently, Nero slumped over onto the table, eventually falling silent.
“I’ll settle him down in a nearby room,” said Schwarz, his words slow and measured. “Happens sometimes. Don’t worry. I’m a professional.”
“Alright,” said Farah. Her tense face had loosened up. “It’s a bit uncomfortable. The death of friends and family is not something I want to confront, not when I’m this young. It’s painful to think about.”
Dia nodded in silence.
Claud glanced at Lily, who had a sad smile on her face, and then sighed. “The sorrow of a final parting is proof of your bond. Those tears that fall from your eyes are the petals of the flower you planted with the bereaved. The pain in your heart is the joy you spent with them. Treasure your time with those you care about.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“Poetic,” said Risti. “But these feelings hurt, no? If you stray by the sea, your feet will eventually get wet. Other than a few friends, it’s best to give passing lives a wide berth.”
She turned to look at Schwarz. “Being a bartender can be very painful, if you ask me.”
Claud instinctively understood that she was talking about Schwarz. Of the Moon Lords, he alone probably had more emotional connections than the rest of them combined.
“But…what’s wrong with that?” Claud asked, his words slow and measured. “His life is more painful, but it is also more vibrant for it.”
Risti looked at Claud, her gaze piercing and sharp. “Well, of everyone here, your personality will help you go far. It’s possible that you’ll understand a century or two down the road.”
Before Claud could question Risti on that very cryptic comment, Schwarz came back into the room. “Holy Children are very troublesome to deal with.”
“I think Nero’s troubles are quite normal, though,” said Lily.
“Hmm. Maybe you’re right.” The bartender rubbed his forehead. “I was hoping to elicit some information from him, regarding Nihal. And anything he might remember about the Third Bearer of Destiny.”
“You’re still hung up on that?” Dia asked.
“Hard to not be. The Third Bearer of Destiny…I get a hunch that he isn’t working alone. I’m almost certain that he’s a mana-user too, and most mana-users are part of an organisation. And it makes sense too, since he was able to brew up Experiential Potions and everything. Furthermore, the mystery behind Zulan Patra’s death has not been solved yet. Did Holy Son Nero kill him? Or was it someone else? We still need to figure that out.”
Claud froze. “Right. We’ve been so bothered by this whole thing that…we…forgot.”
His words trailed off as thoughts rushed through his mind. It was fortunate that the others hadn’t noticed it, and as they began to discuss the truth behind these murders, Claud found his mind racing. Controlling his emotions, he activated his status and checked on the Mission Function.
[Faction Mission: For the Dark beyond the stars
Mission introduction: The great age of change has come. The Moons and the Dark have struggled with each other to gain influence over
Mission requirements: neutralise the Moon-aligned Bearers of Destiny
Moon-aligned Bearers of Destiny neutralised: 1/3
Mission rewards: 1000 years of lifespan, 1 Fragment of Fate
Additional remarks: Doing this quest will invalidate all Moon-aligned faction quests and increase their hostility towards you.]
He looked at the mission requirements, and breathed in deeply. Claud had tried to put all these new things out of his mind, for fear that he would be tempted by the very high rewards, but these missions also provided…information. The Bearers of Destiny was split into multiple factions, for one. Secondly, one of the three Moon-aligned Bearers had died.
Even a fool would know that only one Bearer of Destiny had perished, and that was the Third. In a way, this interface was proof that the Third Bearer of Destiny had some buddies who shared the same goal. Still, what exactly was this alignment? How was it determined? When was it determined? Before he knew the answer, making assumptions off this information would be dangerous.
Claud, who was acting alone the whole time, didn’t know if there was any way for Bearers of Destiny who belonged to the same alignment to identify each other, but it would be the height of foolishness to simply assume that this wasn’t the case.
In fact, it could very well be a passive skill, like his Omen.
Claud took a deep breath.
Somehow, Schwarz had probably hit upon the right answer. Whether it was by design or by chance…well, he did seem to be right quite a few times.
Was it a skill of his? He didn’t know, but it was a reminder to Claud to guard his second identity well. If Schwarz could figure things out based on just words and rumours along, there had to be someone else capable of doing the same thing.
And that someone else would probably not be friendly to him.
“…to sneak an attack on Zulan Patra, then,” Dia was saying.
“Probable, yes. From what I can tell,” said Risti, “there should be two types of thralls. So far, we’ve encountered folders and non-folders. The latter is a servant that whole-heartedly follows the orders given. However, it’s possible that thralls that happen to be a mana-user have the ability to act naturally.”
“Considering that Zulan Patra was guarded by other mana-users, this hypothesis does somewhat make sense. If he was betrayed by one of his turned followers or something…” said Schwarz. “Besides, it’s an unknown skill. We don’t have the details about it at all. Anything’s possible.”
“Maybe the Third didn’t need to work together with anyone,” said Lily. “Just turn them all into thralls, and order them to make potions and gather materials. Wasn’t there a report about people acting oddly in other territories?”
“Such an enviable skill…but it looks like it’s explicitly made for evil, though,” Claud muttered.
He didn’t dare to speak on, however, since the next sentence was a question that, if he voiced out loud, would almost certainly draw suspicion onto him.
“Evil, eh?” Schwarz mulled over his sentence. “Yeah, I can’t see how anything good could be done with this. Turning someone into your slave cannot possibly be a good thing.”
“Alright,” said Farah. “Right, wasn’t there an instruction from Caroline this morning?”
“Right,” said Schwarz. “Guys, regarding Ruler Istrel’s inauguration…”