Chapter 82: The Hilt

The letter was placed right at the entrance of the underground passage—written by Lancelote.

"It has been some time, and I must admit I am astonished at how rapidly you have progressed. Your growth is truly remarkable.

I am deeply grateful for the care you have shown my disciple, Talice, along the way. She has benefited greatly from your help. However, some of her actions have long been deemed unacceptable for a knight. Therefore, I have taken her back to Celeste for punishment.

The item taken from you is also in Celeste, well preserved. Should you require it, feel free to come retrieve it at any time."

The letter was not written on fine parchment—temple knights wouldn't carry such things on hand. Instead, it was scrawled onto a burial shroud, likely taken from Shante's ruined hut, using some unknown dark fluid as ink.

Despite the crude material, the words were concise and direct, the handwriting bold and unrestrained—exuding a commanding presence.

"So, retrieve it at any time? Such pointless knightly honor. I wonder if he'd still be so welcoming if he knew I was carrying something Moriel intended to gift them?"

Asa chuckled, tossing the letter aside. He turned toward the burning pile of corpses and began chanting. Blue waves of energy rippled from his hands, spreading over the charred remains. One by one, the corpses that had been engulfed in flames started to move.

These bodies had undoubtedly been Shante's final defense—an army of elite warriors who had perished in the endless conflicts between Nigen and Celeste. Under his necromantic expertise, they retained their full combat abilities, as formidable in death as they had been in life.

Unfortunately, their adversaries had been temple knights emerging from the underground passage—warriors of the Holy Order. The sacred white magic, which had been utterly useless in the dragon's lair, had found the perfect outlet here, unleashed in full force against the undead.

The flames on the corpses extinguished by themselves, the charred parts peeling off as their bodies fused and melded together. Despite the destruction caused by the white magic, these bodies were still the work of Shante, and they remained an excellent medium for necromantic magic.

With the chant, a massive creature made of these corpses began to take shape. Asa, with his control over magic, wasn't yet capable of summoning something that could fly, so what emerged was a massive, rhinoceros-sized beast in the shape of a horse.

High in the sky, a crow circled above, watching the activity below. It followed the creature's progress as it sped across the desolate ground of Nigen, carrying Asa and the two Dread Knights, their presence marked by the heavy stench of decay and burning.

"What did you write to him?"

From the crystal ball, the writing on the cloth was unreadable. The Pope turned to Lancelote.

"I just invited him to the Radiant Castle," Lancelote replied.

"Oh, I didn't know you had such literary flair," the Pope remarked expressionlessly. "If he really manages to come, I would quite like to meet this boy in person. To think he was able to save Moriel... I'm becoming increasingly interested in him."

When Lancelote had just returned through the teleportation circle, the Pope had been in the hall with Bishop Inham, both observing the scene in the crystal ball.

"As Your Majesty instructed, we took advantage of the infighting between the Minotaurs, Dark Elves, and other races to successfully activate the Purgatory Paradise. Nigen's forces have been severely weakened. However, the mission to kill Moriel failed—there were some unforeseen complications. Someone intervened and managed to rescue Moriel."

"What? Someone intervened? Who?" Lancelote's report caused the Pope's face to first light up with joy, only to quickly switch to shock.

"The person His Majesty asked me to bring here," Lancelote began, his gaze not on the Pope but on Bishop Inham, who stood beside him. "That person might appear in a graveyard on the Nigen ground. It seems there's a necromancer living there, though they're not present at the moment... Bishop, you should know where that is. Could I trouble you to cast a spell and check it out?"

When Asa's figure appeared in the crystal ball, both the Pope and Bishop Inham simultaneously gasped in surprise.

"Rest assured, Your Majesty, he will certainly come here," Lancelote said.

"Oh? Why is that?" The Pope asked, a hint of confusion crossing his face.

"There is a reason, of course. But as for the reason..." Lancelote glanced toward Bishop Inham. "It would be best if Your Excellency could excuse yourself for a moment."

Bishop Inham smiled graciously, about to step away when the Pope spoke up.

"No need," the Pope said calmly. "There's no need to hide anything from Bishop Inham."

"Understood, Your Majesty," Lancelote nodded. "However, before that, I need to report an unexpected development that occurred during our battle with Moriel. I would also like Bishop Inham to hear this as well."

The expression of the paladin was calm, with his tone, demeanor, and mannerisms showing no difference from usual. Yet both the Pope and Bishop Inham could sense that beneath the surface of this tranquility, something unsettling lingered. Particularly, Lancelote seemed very casual, even natural, as he subtly moved a little closer to Bishop Inham.

Bishop Inham raised an eyebrow slightly, glancing at Lancelote, but the pleasant smile on his face remained unchanged.

The Pope's gaze shifted between Bishop Inham and Lancelote, a brief look of surprise crossing his features. After a moment, he nodded.

"Go ahead, then," he said.

"Indeed," Lancelote's face remained calm as ever. "As Bishop Inham previously informed us, Moriel was indeed severely weakened due to the flaw in her seal, and we had the upper hand in the battle against her. However, just as we were fighting Moriel, a Minotaur priest suddenly ambushed us. He was using scrolls. One was a gravity field, another a space lock, and two fire element summoning scrolls, as well as Blazing Fireball and Thunderclap Bomb..."

"Oh?" Both the Pope and Bishop Inham exclaimed simultaneously, exchanging a glance.

"The way the scrolls were used—timing, method, and technique—was flawless. I must say, if that individual hadn't appeared to disrupt things, I, along with the others, would not have made it back. Even so, Knight Yuland died in the gravity field... Your Majesty, these scrolls are definitely not something the Minotaurs could have possessed on their own."

The Pope nodded slightly. "I know. Even Celeste doesn't have access to space locks and gravity fields..."

"And these scrolls—when combined and used in such a way—were meticulously calculated with a very targeted approach. I have reason to believe they were specifically intended for us..." Lancelote said, his gaze fixed on Bishop Inham.

Bishop Inham continued to smile, though now it was a bitter smile.

"No need to continue," the Pope raised a hand, signaling to stop, his voice calm and his expression steady.

"Understood," Lancelote nodded, falling silent and withdrawing his gaze from the bishop.

The Pope looked up, his eyes briefly staring at the ceiling as he thought. When he lowered his gaze again, he spoke, "It's probably Theodorus... He traveled across the continent in his youth, and it's not surprising he'd have connections with the Minotaurs. Besides, Orford now controls the largest source of magical gemstones on the continent and has ties with the Tooth Tower. Two or three scrolls are nothing. Most importantly..." The Pope smiled slightly. "I trust Bishop Inham."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Bishop Inham bowed.

"Your Majesty is astute, everything is under control," Lancelote turned to Bishop Inham, bowing deeply in an apologetic gesture. "My apologies, Bishop. Please forgive my rashness."

Bishop Inham gave a wry smile, shaking his head. "This matter was originally my suggestion, and I was the one who made the initial contact with the Minotaurs. Your conclusion is entirely reasonable, Lord Lancelote."

The Pope spoke, his voice calm yet filled with anticipation. "Now, tell me why that young man will definitely come here."

"Because by a very fortunate chance, I managed to take this from him. I'm certain he will come to claim it," Lancelote replied, pulling out the small pouch he had taken from Asa.

"This is...?" Both the Pope and Bishop Inham froze for a moment. Lancelote slowly untied the string at the opening of the pouch, releasing a faint, almost imperceptible aura.

Though weak, the aura was enough to send a wave of shock across both the Pope and Bishop Inham's faces. They were both individuals who had mastered the art of concealing their emotions, yet the sudden presence of this aura caused them to momentarily falter.

"This aura... Could it be...?" The Pope reached for the pouch, his hand trembling slightly. As he untied the strings and opened the pouch, his hand moved to support something inside. A black cylindrical object flew out from the pouch's opening. The faint yet pervasive, unavoidable aura immediately filled every inch of the surrounding space.

"Yes, this is it," Bishop Inham's expression slowly shifted from shock to calm, his gaze fixed on the sword hilt suspended in mid-air, his face an unreadable mask.

"Is this... the fabled Black Star, the one that can supposedly change the world and make its wielder the King of Necromancy?" The aura and power emanating from the hilt were undeniable, as they were far beyond anything a mere human could resist. The hilt floated, suspended by air magic, but the Pope's gaze didn't linger long on it. His attention shifted, falling instead on the small ring adorning the bottom of the sword hilt. "Heh, it's been over twenty years since I've seen this. I never thought I'd see it again, much less with it on the hilt of the Black Star."

"Legend says that whoever grasps this will gain the power to change the world..." The Pope's usual steady and deep gaze faltered for just a moment. There had always been waves beneath the surface of his eyes, but now, something from the deepest recesses of his being stirred.

This was no ordinary artifact. It was something sought after by countless powerful individuals, a legendary relic that many had longed for. And now, it was within his reach. No one could remain unmoved by the sight of it. However, the Pope's excitement, though palpable, was fleeting—like a shooting star that flashed across his eyes before vanishing completely.