The Holy Sword
The afternoon rite began by teaching the children who still could not handle mana how to sense it.
Only then could they discover whether any among them possessed a talent for holy magic.
"From this moment, the temple priests will come forward and cast a healing spell on each of you. All you need to do is sit still. Understood?"
The children answered with eager voices, though they had no idea what any of it meant.
At the High Priest's words, the priests began to file in.
It was not one or two of them.
Nearly fifty entered, and roughly half wore robes of a distinctly different cut.
They were even bringing in the apprentices.
Many more priests resided within the temple, of course, but they had not all been summoned to the baptism—contingencies had to be considered. Moreover, the ceremony would continue for the next ten days. It was the perfect chance for the apprentices to practice, and so they were put to use for any number of practical reasons.
The priests approached the children seated in front, one by one.
A priest came to Roy as well.
"Um, I can already use magic, you know?"
"Even so, since you've joined the baptism, you should simply receive it."
"Ah, is that how it is?"
Soon the hall filled with the voices of dozens of priests chanting the same spell at once.
Their voices were so perfectly matched that they seemed to ring as a single throat, resonating until one almost believed the temple itself was trembling.
If even Roy felt the weight of it, the children were left with their mouths hanging open in astonishment.
A few even burst into tears, yet the priests never once broke their chant.
A short while later the incantation ended and the magic took hold.
Anyone who had been injured would have been healed, but nothing at all happened to Roy, who had no wounds.
"Uwaaah…"
"Priest, my heart is suddenly racing so fast."
"Wh-what is this? It's scary."
The other children's reactions, however, were entirely different.
For the first time they felt the mana within their own bodies repelling the priest's mana, and they had no idea what to do with themselves.
Some children shut their eyes tight; others clapped their hands over their ears, straining to listen to the sounds inside their own flesh.
A few patted themselves down in a fluster; still others broke into open sobs.
Kids. Honestly…
While the children in front were still reeling, the priests immediately moved on to those waiting behind.
With more than a hundred children present, some priests had to cast the healing magic three times over.
Only after every priest had withdrawn did the High Priest speak again.
"What you are feeling right now is mana. It is the great gift the Sun God has bestowed upon us humans."
A lengthy sermon followed.
The children who had just sensed mana for the first time listened to the High Priest's voice with a posture altogether different from the morning's.
Yet, regrettably, not everyone here would ever become a true mage.
Anyone could kindle a campfire without flint, but that alone hardly meant one knew how to wield magic.
After the tedious sermon finally ran its course, the sacred relic Roy had been waiting for at last made its appearance.
A blade whose length fell somewhere between a longsword and a dagger.
Anna had already told him about it, so the moment he saw the silhouette beneath the cloth he knew exactly what it was.
But… that's supposed to be a holy sword?
The hilt had been crafted with a certain lavishness, yet the blade itself was black as pitch.
Calling it a blade at all was a stretch; it more closely resembled a blunt rod.
The High Priest resumed his explanation.
"From this moment I will teach you a single chant. Anyone who has memorized it completely will come forward, take hold of the holy sword you see here, and recite the chant once more. The Sun God will then answer your prayer. With that, today's rite will be complete."
For once Roy could not make sense of what he was seeing.
Anna had given him a rough description, so he had known the relic took the form of a sword, yet now that he looked upon it he could find no trace of any enchantment.
Nor did it seem that a magic circle or runes had been hidden anywhere on it.
Honestly. How are they supposed to test elemental affinity with a sword like that?
He had expected something grand the moment he heard the words "holy sword"—some intricate lattice of formations and spells.
Roy narrowed his eyes and stared hard at the blade.
No—it's still too early to be disappointed. Something must be concealed. Anna wouldn't have told me a lie that would fall apart this quickly.
He refused to let go of that hope.
Perhaps they had woven in a formula so complex he could not even begin to guess its nature, then hidden every scrap of information so thoroughly that no one could ever extract it.
After all, he himself had done the same thing more than once.
Whenever he finished crafting a magic circle he had researched to the point of death, he always layered an additional veil of concealment over it so that no outsider could reverse-engineer the work. Countless mages had studied the equipment he forged for heroes and sages, yet not one of them had ever uncovered a single magical clue.
"Then we shall begin. Listen carefully and commit it to memory. Priest Erpe."
A priest stepped forward and began to recite the chant.
Holding the holy sword, he spoke the words with deliberate, glacial slowness so that every child could remember them.
…What? So that's all it was?
Only after hearing the priest's chant did Roy grasp the true situation.
That was no holy sword.
The identity of the pitch-black, blunt blade was a kind of mana stone.
How did they even get a Jetstone that large?
Jetstone.
Also known as Infinite Mana Stone—a peculiar ore that could be mined only from the deepest reaches of certain veins, unlike ordinary mana stones harvested from powerful monsters.
Yet even during the days of the empire that had nearly conquered the entire continent a thousand years ago, Roy had never once heard of a Jetstone so enormous.
True to its name, ordinary mana stones were single-use, while a Jetstone could be recharged and used indefinitely until it was destroyed—making it extraordinarily precious. A Jetstone of vast mana capacity had been worth nearly its weight in gold under the old empire.
At that size, the price would truly be whatever the seller demanded…
While Roy was already eyeing the holy sword with the same covetous gleam he had once reserved for the kettle, the priest finished his recitation.
Oh-ho. Now it finally looks like a holy sword.
The magic the priest had just used was a recharging spell that poured fresh mana into a depleted Jetstone.
Because the caster was a priest, light-attribute mana flooded the stone, and it began to blaze with sacred radiance.
As expected—its capacity is as immense as its size.
The priest had poured nearly all of his own mana into it, yet to Roy's eye the stone was still not even a quarter full.
Ah… the more I look at it, the more I want it.
Roy was curious what they intended to do next with a Jetstone that had only been half-charged.
To test the other children's elemental affinities, they would first have to empty every drop of mana currently stored inside it. That power would have to be spent somewhere.
What…?
Roy was stunned.
As if a Jetstone of that size had not been shocking enough, another priest now appeared carrying a second sword of almost identical bulk.
Are you kidding me? How are these things so common?
Had they discovered a new vein?
A thousand years was more than enough time for that to have happened. And since these were not disposable tools—so long as they remained unbroken they could be used forever—finding several veins would make them relatively plentiful.
The priest who had brought the new holy sword approached the High Priest, exchanged the blades, and carried the charged one away.
They were clearly ferrying them outside to swap for fresh ones.
There were more than just two.
Haah…
Roy decided he no longer needed to wonder about it.
Instead he began laying other plans in his mind.
If they're that common, then even if one or two went missing… no. Theft is a bit much. Especially when the goods belong to the temple.
In a mage's life, there was nothing to gain by making an enemy of the temple for no good reason.
In that case…
Roy was confident.
When it came to making money, he could always find a way.
I'll just buy one. If Jetstones are common, that simply means anyone with enough coin can purchase as many as they like.
While Roy was smiling with a cunning far too sly for his young face, the High Priest addressed the children still staring in awe at the glowing holy sword.
"Now then. The chant the priest just recited is the one you must all memorize."
Complaints erupted from every corner.
"How are we supposed to remember something that long?"
"Exactly. And those were words I've never heard in my life."
"I can guarantee it—I'll never be able to memorize that."
The High Priest answered them calmly.
"Those of you who cannot recall it will receive help from the priests present. Those who can read may also collect the scrolls on which the chant has been written. From this moment, each of you will practice the chant on your own. Anyone who has finished will raise a hand and come forward. If you fail to memorize it by the end of the day, the rite will not conclude even if it lasts through the night. Concentrate, all of you!"
A brief storm of wailing cries filled the air, then the chapel was flooded with the murmur of children muttering under their breath.
But the noise died almost at once.
Roy had already raised his hand.
"I've finished memorizing it."