Baptism (5)
"R-Really?"
"Yeah. A friend never tells another friend's secrets. So from this moment on, you're my friend."
It felt a little unfair to Bella, but Roy's purpose was clear. Through the girl, he meant to cut off any future threat before it could take shape.
"Thank you. Truly, thank you. I... I'll be in your care as well."
"Aren't we going to shake on it?"
"Ah!"
The girl carefully took the boy's hand. For the first time, she smiled with her teeth showing—bright and open. Tears that had gathered in her eyes slid down her flushed cheeks.
Everything about the sight left a deep impression on Roy. He only hoped she would never breathe a word of his secret anywhere. And without quite realizing it, he found himself gently stroking Bella's small head.
"……"
The girl accepted it as the most natural thing in the world, as if she had endured every hard day until now for the sole purpose of meeting this boy.
"Eh…?"
Something felt wrong. The hand that had been stroking her hair drifted to her cheek, brushed her chin, then trailed down toward her neck.
"Um, excuse me…"
"Just stay still a moment. I'm sensing it right now."
Roy's eyes had already taken on that same golden glow as before.
"A-Ah, you mustn't. Touching places like that…"
The boy still hadn't noticed, but the tips of the girl's ears had gone scarlet.
"As expected—being so close to the main line, there's almost no difference from Anna."
"Hieek!? Hwaaak?"
"But why are your arms so soft? The mana flowing this way is sparse too. Have you been cooped up in your room without any exercise? Let's see… the legs are the same."
"Um… what are you doing right now…"
"Stay still. I'm observing. Hmm… still, the size of your vessel is quite impressive. Have you studied magic separately?"
The girl nodded rapidly with both hands clamped over her mouth. She was covering it because sounds kept threatening to slip out. It tickled far too much.
"I see. I heard they usually only begin teaching after the baptism, but then again…"
Veronica. If that overbearing woman was her parent, early education made a certain amount of sense.
The more I look, the more this exceeds my expectations.
Though their parents differed, they shared the same grandfather's blood. Compared to Anna or even Jerry, she was in no way inferior. Roy had planned to quietly mark a few children with mana talent around Marek's level at best. This was an unexpected windfall.
"Bella. I like you a great deal. So never betray me."
The girl's face had flushed so red it looked ready to burst.
"Mm-hm."
Just then, a priest appeared in the distance, rounding the corner. With his business finished, Roy quickly put space between himself and Bella.
"That's enough talk for now."
Farther down the corridor, more children from the collateral lines were entering—this time all boys.
Hmm… with that lot, maybe I should start a little more aggressively from the outset.
Roy greeted the boys with a thin, predatory smile he had never once shown Bella.
And a short while later, the first rite of the baptismal ceremony finally began.
The children who had been listening to the high priest's sermon for quite some time all wore expressions that suggested they desperately needed a toilet. In essence it seemed to be praise for the Sun God, yet it dragged on so pointlessly that patience frayed more than once. For seven-year-olds, the ordeal was even worse.
Still, the temple side was not to be underestimated—they held this event for ten full days every year. At intervals they employed sacred magic that left the children's souls half-knocked out of their bodies.
Learning magic before baptism was something only a handful of high-noble children ever experienced. The merchant and official offspring here, and even the noble-born children aside from Roy, would rarely have seen real magic. Sacred magic least of all.
Sacred magic, huh…
Sacred magic, like any other, was activated by chanting. The difference was that not just anyone could use it. Even the greatest mage or sage could never so much as imitate it if they had not been born with the gift. Conversely, children born with sacred-attribute mana could never, even if they died and came back to life, wield any other attribute.
But then again, there is something called Dragon's Breath.
Whether the world had changed over a thousand years or Roy had simply lived in ignorance, he had learned through the Dragon's Breath that exceptions existed. Fixed notions were poison to a mage—he was feeling that truth anew. So he listened carefully, for the first time, to the priests' chants he had simply ignored in his previous life.
Only when interest was kindled did certain things become visible.
The structure of the chant is completely different from ordinary magic. How did I never notice this before?
The answer lay in the ancient spirit-summoning chants. For the past two years Roy had been experimenting with converting portions of those chants into magic circles. In the process, insights he had not yet fully recognized had taken root. Listening to the sacred magic now, those threads began to unravel into something usable.
What is it, exactly? It feels just within reach, yet slips away…
The chant the priest had just finished sent fine motes of light cascading over the children's heads. Like starlight falling from the night sky, the sight drew gasps and open-mouthed wonder. It was a form of wide-area healing magic, but so thriftily cast that the effect was almost nonexistent and the light vanished almost at once. The children still loved it.
Only Roy sat with his brow deeply furrowed. The priest who had bestowed the blessing noticed his expression and pouted. Competitive spirit flaring for no good reason, she cast yet another spell. The other priests preparing the next rite looked at her as if asking what on earth she thought she was doing.
"Waaah!!"
A swarm of light ten times more splendid than before filled the entire chapel. The children cheered as though watching fireworks. Roy's face still did not change. He merely wore the look of someone thinking, Is that priest overdoing it?
He muttered something under his breath, and because the lord's son sat in the very front row, every word slipped straight into the priest's ear.
"If you cast it like that there's no healing effect at all—just excess spectacle that would only make you a target in real combat."
The demonstration priest trembled, then silently slipped out of the prayer hall. She had wanted to retort, but the other party was the lord's son—and she had spent every last drop of her mana, leaving her without even the strength to stand.
The next rite was the washing of hands. Here appeared the first holy relic Roy had never seen in his previous life.
The first priest gently set a large silver basin upon the dais. It held no water. The high priest took his place directly behind it; when a name was called, each child would approach in turn. Roy stood at the very front, and his name was called first.
"Where's the water?"
The high priest smiled like a child who had something to show off.
"Bring it."
Another priest waiting in the rear approached carrying something. It was wrapped in ornate cloth, so its identity was not immediately clear. Just before handing it over, the priest stripped the cloth away, and the object was revealed for the first time.
A teapot?
It was an extravagantly ornate teapot—so gaudy that the covering cloth looked shabby by comparison. Gold leaf and assorted jewels covered it, yet to Roy's eyes it looked entirely different.
Mana stones?!
What was embedded were unmistakably mana stones, and large ones at that—not merely one or two. Though he could not confirm it outwardly, magic had clearly been enchanted into it, and a fairly complex magic circle seemed to be concealed as well.
Receiving the teapot, the high priest spoke.
"I shall pour the water. Wash away the sins you have committed until now."
Water streamed from the spout over Roy's hands. It had not been stored inside from the beginning. The teapot itself was creating the water through magic at this very moment. What astonished Roy most was that the high priest was not chanting at all, yet the teapot continued to produce fresh water without pause.
I want it.
Even as water fell across his hands, Roy's gaze remained fixed entirely on the holy teapot. What monster had been hunted for those mana stones? Which mage had performed the enchantment? The fact that an object like this existed in a rural temple like this one meant the larger domains and the capital's temples almost certainly possessed similar pieces. He wanted to steal it at once and take it apart, and countless questions whirled through his mind one after another.
Above all, the open use of enchantment magic—something he had believed lost after his own death—struck him with genuine shock. He immediately formed several hypotheses.
First: as he himself had once done, some genius had appeared and established enchantment magic through methods uniquely their own. That would be the best outcome. Roy would be unfamiliar with the approach, so by comparing methods they could discard weaknesses and combine strengths for still greater progress.
Second: someone had discovered part or all of the magical legacy he left behind in his previous life and had succeeded or further developed the sections related to enchantment. That, too, was not bad. Though he had never taught them directly, he almost wanted to meet those "adorable disciples" who had followed his research as-is and talk with them at once.
Third: if it was this case, it would be the absolute worst. That damned piece of trash Albert, who had betrayed his master, might have passed Roy's research achievements down to his own children as if they were his own accomplishments—or left disciples of his own before dying. Either way, the long-dormant rage would boil over.
There was also the chance that the teapot itself was an ancient relic. But if that were so, would they truly leave it in a place like this? It would have been kept in the capital's grand temple.
Whatever the truth, to uncover it the teapot needed to come into Roy's hands.
If I ask to borrow it, would they lend it? Or should I just quietly steal the whole thing?
While Roy spun off into his own imagination, the high priest could endure no longer and spoke.
"Young Master Roy. The basin will overflow. Please wash your hands quickly—no, wash away the sins you have committed until now. Only then may you become a follower of the Sun God."
"Ah, my apologies."
Looking sheepish, Roy hurriedly washed his hands and returned to his seat.