Chapter 78
Chapter 78
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 78
Chapter Title: Digestion (7)
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"I'm grateful you say that."
Daimeros flashed a satisfied smile.
"You're the second person I trust the most."
"Unfortunately, not the first, then. Is the first Lilia?"
"Me."
"Ah."
Galen let out a wry chuckle. How sly, ranking himself at the top.
"Anyway, I'm at a loss for words that you think so highly of me."
"I mean it sincerely. I judged your actions trustworthy and put you in charge of overseeing the ruins—and you returned with results beyond expectations, so I have even more faith in you now."
"It was all for my own benefit, and things just worked out well."
"Exactly. Keep doing things for your own benefit from here on out. As I said before, your pursuits align perfectly with the church's teachings—nothing could be better."
"If you still feel that way, I'm truly thankful."
Galen scratched his cheek. Daimeros smirked and added,
"If I didn't trust you, I would've separated Bishop Lilia from you ages ago."
"Pardon?"
"Would I let a key figure in the church's future hang around someone suspicious? Of course, by the time I realized her absurd talent, the two of you had already been inseparable for a while, so it was a bit late..."
"Isn't it the pilgrim's freedom to choose who to travel with?"
Lilia blinked innocently, as if asking what the problem was. Daimeros sighed, looking exasperated.
"Freedom, yes... but setting up house under the same roof? That's rare, even if temporary. What do you think others will say?"
"That we're really close friends?"
"...See? This is why I didn't bother separating Bishop Lilia. You need to act wisely too."
"It might sound like an excuse, but... I just found a house with a training ground, and Lilia insisted on moving in."
"There were plenty of spare rooms, so why not live together?"
"Exactly like that."
"And you didn't say no."
"Well, I didn't mind..."
"Fine, do as you like. What business does an old man have meddling in young folks' affairs?"
Daimeros shook his head at their back-and-forth and changed the subject.
"Anyway, to sum up: that's how much I trust you."
"And you came here because something requires that trust?"
"Correct. Want to hear it?"
"I'll keep my mouth shut after."
"It involves the two of you as well."
Clearly, Daimeros's trust in Galen had grown since their first meeting.
Before, he wouldn't share full details until a commission was accepted. Now, he was spilling everything upfront.
And something involving both of them? Galen and Lilia perked up their ears.
"Last winter, you two did great work in the Dawn Archipelago. Taking out those rampant pirates was impressive, but the real key was that demon weapon."
It was a bloodbath for the victims, but honestly, bandits or pirates weren't major threats.
Exceptions aside, they were just ragtag groups.
Cities could handle swarms on their own—the church had no reason to intervene.
The demon weapon was the outlier that threw everything into chaos.
"Didn't Bishop Roald destroy that necklace?"
"He did. But you might not know this: the pirate leader's acquisition of it was suspicious from the start."
"Oh, I remember!"
Lilia clapped her hands.
"He claimed it was a lucky find?"
"You knew. The leader never budged, even under interrogation to the end."
Daimeros mentioned torture casually.
After using a demon weapon charged with human sacrifices to slaughter Belpas and the Dawn Archipelago fleets, the church saw him as less than human.
Galen didn't bat an eye. Live flaying or not, it was his karma. He deserved to die several times over.
Galen focused on why Daimeros brought this up.
"He paid a heavy price?"
"Bishop Roald's report said he had grit—until the real work began."
"Then he wasn't lying; he genuinely believed it."
"Likely. But demon weapons aren't things you stumble upon. Not for a leader like him."
Daimeros stated flatly.
"Demon weapons are made by demons. Not the fakes from the cradle, but real ones. These days, all demons are locked in hell beyond the abyss, so circulating weapons are ancient relics."
"Ancient... so sometimes they're found in ruins?"
"Yes. In fact, ruins are virtually the only source. Where else do undiscovered ancient artifacts linger?"
"But the church doesn't oversee every ruin expedition, right?"
Galen tilted his head.
"True. If groups handle it themselves, we have no reason or pretext to interfere. The Steelwall incident—nearly sparking war—was the exception."
"So someone unscrupulous could dig one up and hide it."
"That's the problem."
Daimeros nodded, frowning.
"No matter how we preach their evil, will the already wicked heed it? Greed blinds conscience. Fools always think, 'As long as I don't flaunt it...'"
Thus, ways to obtain demon weapons were limited.
You needed the force for ruin dives and secrecy—solo factions only.
Not top noble houses, but at least gold-rank families ruling a city.
Either secretly excavated by such houses,
passed down covertly from ancestors,
or leaked during a house's downfall.
Those were the main paths.
The leader's case was closest to the third.
"But a demon weapon can't leak unknowingly. You sense the malice on contact."
"A bit grim, but it'd be treated like treasure among villains."
"Exactly. His house was nothing special, already ruined—he's a drifter. No way it just 'appears.' He calls it fate, but such fate doesn't exist."
"So you think someone deliberately handed it over?"
"It was a possibility. Knowing his backstory, his burning grudge, staging it to seem natural. Until yesterday."
Daimeros emphasized the last part, pausing before continuing.
"Today, months of investigation bore fruit."
"Caught their tail?"
"Not sure if it's severed or leads to the body. But we pull it, right? Sneak close and strike at once."
"You want me for that role?"
"Two months ago, you agreed to bury the ruin incident without fanfare."
"Yes."
"So your and Bishop Lilia's profiles stay low."
After heading northeast, their only public activity was the ruins—which was hushed.
"The unprepared foe takes the deadliest blow."
Daimeros's eyes gleamed as he stared at Galen.
"What do you say? Up for it?"
*
The next day.
After breakfast and a short rest, Galen and Lilia headed to the backyard.
The first month—when Daimeros visited daily—had been training under him.
The following month, without his visits, it became their daily sparring ritual.
But today's vibe felt different.
Galen had accepted Daimeros's commission yesterday.
Meaning today was their last day in this mansion.
"I'll use everything I can't easily pull out anymore today. Earth and fire."
"Sounds good!"
Galen had warned Lilia ahead. He stepped back farther than usual.
Half-closing his eyes, he recalled his senses.
A normal mage had one magic sense. Galen's five magics yielded five distinct ones.
He selected the newest fifth—but second-highest leveled.
'Territorial March.'
Territory meant the land around Galen transformed like his domain,
and referred to that altered earth itself.
The spell's feel: mana extending root-like from his footing outward.
That mana reshaped the surrounding soil into territory, and then...
Ssssh!
Soldiers rose from the territory—thus, the march.
The mud dolls from the ruins emerged, all too familiar.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
A dozen dolls lumbered forward in unison.
Fwosh!
A radiant sword bloomed in Lilia's hand.
Matching the dolls' pace, she advanced—swinging at point-blank.
Slash!
The doll swung too, but Lilia's speed dominated.
Slicing its arm, her blade's momentum cleaved the torso clean.
In the ruins, she'd needed blessings only for elite dolls; regulars fell to simple cuts.
These matched regular ruin dolls in speed and toughness.
Stronger now, Lilia handled them easier.
Yet she moved cautiously.
Whoosh!
Not just dolls attacked her—flames erupted without warning.
Galen had announced earth and fire.
Exploiting her doll-slaying openings, fierce flames surged from below.
Anticipating it, Lilia dodged sideways. The fire scorched harmless dirt.
She evaded, but dolls kept encircling.
Before tighter confines, her sword preemptively slashed.
Slash! Slash!
Dolls ignored their own or allies' destruction.
They herded her like hounds,
Whoosh! Boom!
Phantom Heat Waves chased her path relentlessly.
"Ugh, this is seriously..."
Lilia grimaced, cornered.
These dolls were fewer than the ruin hordes—far more manageable.
But unlike then, dolls weren't the main threat.
Unpredictable flames were—sans prelude.
She couldn't tank them, so evade.
Yet dolls haunted every dodge spot.
Even cleavable in one stroke, unaddressed they'd strike—forcing kills.
Any delay, flames licked hungrily.
Ssssh!
Galen spawned dolls on-demand from earth, blocking paths—not flooding upfront.
In the vast yard, maybe fine—but debris piled, hindering.
Lilia slowed, movements snared.
"Ah, I can't do it!"
She surrendered.
As Lilia sheathed her sword, Galen withdrew mana. Dolls crumbled to dirt.
"Even on the last day, no blessings and I can't escape."
"I used two spells."
Lilia pouted, but it was expected.
If leveled, her blessing miracle might outpace individual Territorial March or Phantom Heat Wave.
But facing both sans blessings? Like dueling two gold mages.
"A shame mud dolls only work this way. Great for fodder, but..."
"Can't make elite ones?"
"A few, sure. But..."
Galen tilted his head.
"Ruins forced elites, so they scared me. Now? Even elites might ignore and rush you."
"True, they're tanky but slow! They'd prioritize the caster."
"So one-on-one, mass weaklings for disruption seems better."
"What were those ruins, spawning hordes of strong ones..."
"Gem-rank, probably? How a non-mage ruin cast gem magic remains a mystery..."
"Similar to demon weapons, in a way."
"How so?"
"We can't grasp the principle!"
"Oh, that. Weapons are better than ruins, though. Ghost necklace was top-tier among them."
Not that sea ghosts were weak.
Rather, demon weapons capped at gold.
"Just no gems."
We have five golds.