14 Owen Acar

Nolan and Atticus arrived at the spot where they'd left their carriage. Atticus opened the door and extended his hand to Nolan, who took it as he boarded and settled onto the soft seat.

Before the butler could close the carriage door, Nolan asked, his tone serious and contemplative, "Do you think he can protect Elwin?" He turned to Atticus and stared at him intently. "The summoning ritual I performed actually worked." His words carried an unspoken implication—an innuendo that Atticus couldn't ignore.

He first had no results, and when he used a different chanting phrase, it turned him into a cat.

Was it the first actual ritual that summoned Nerys? Or was it when he chanted a different chant?

"Perhaps I should try to summon another? It says in the Grimoire that as long they finished a task, they would eventually disappear." Nolan muttered to himself. "The book did not say that a summoner could only summon one chthon or demon."

But then he would need another sacrifice.

Sacrifice. His eyes swept to look at his butler, who was patiently standing outside the carriage, looking up at him, his face gentle, although he was not smiling.

It says in the book that sacrifices could also be discussed once the Chthon was summoned or if the task had been finished. This setup could be a little tricky, Chthons were an underworld creature and might deceive the summoner. Especially demons.

"It's getting late, Young Master. We need to go home so you can rest. We can talk about it tomorrow."

"No, I need you to take me somewhere else."

*

Deacon Frantz Tagen sipped on his coffee as he scanned through his paperwork. It was already past his working hours, but he seemed determined to finish his work tonight.

New religions had begun sprouting throughout the empire. The establishment of these religions was not necessarily restricted.

However, one occult religion that suddenly emerged had explicitly shown the true nature of their goal, introducing themselves as believers of one evil God, Atticus. A thorough investigation was needed.

Several occult groups, even cult religions had emerged even in the past worshiping the same evil entity. But the Church was adamant to end heretics and continued to hunt them. 

Furthermore, years had passed, and the church had not yet achieved substantial leads about the Black Market as well.

The Hollow Assembly of Atticus is a newly formed esoteric group whose members center their faith on an entity known as Atticus. Many esoteric groups following the same evil god had been recorded by the Church. According to the writings found in the orthodox church's scriptures, Atticus is described as the son of the evil gods who govern half of the underworld's domain.

Deacon Frantz paused on reading and sighed. Suddenly a knock on the door snapped him from his thinking.

"Deacon Frantz, are you in?" a male voice coming from outside asked.

"Come in," he replied and put down the report that a member of Sanction had sent him.

Upon hearing his response, a young man with dark hair entered the room. The candle on the table flickered as the subtle wind from outside entered.

"Owen, how's your first day in the village so far?" Deacon Frantz asked the young man and gestured him to sit down at the chair in front of his desk.

Owen Acar, the young leader of the Sanction assigned to Cerefina Village, closed the door behind him, walked to the desk, and sat at the empty seat across from the Deacon.

"This small village is beautiful." he candidly answered, "Why did you call for me, sir?"

Frantz examined the young man closely.

Owen had a tan complexion, dark hair, and sharp brown eyes. Frantz couldn't help but wonder how someone so young had not only joined the Sanction but risen to the rank of leader.

Deacon Frantz pushed paper in front of Owen. "This is the list of people suspected to be involved in the occult group that is secretly operating here. This is not the final list yet—I need you and your team to observe and confirm."

Owen picked up the paper and read through a few names. Suddenly, a familiar name caught his attention.

"Nolan Loic? Deacon, if I'm not mistaken, isn't he the youngest son of the noble businessman Benson Loic?" Owen asked without lifting his head as he continued to read the names listed when, suddenly, a name under Nolan Loic made him freeze in utter surprise.

Elwin Grabenstein.

"I don't know the exact details, but you are right. He moved here some years ago to take care of his father's estate." The Deacon answered without noticing the changes on Owen's face.

The Deacon stood and walked towards the corner where a shelf full of books stood, "Once the listed people confirm their ties to those heretic religions or what occult group they are part of, immediately report to me."

Owen didn't linger any further as he stood up and said his goodbye before exiting the Deacon's office.

As the door to his office closed, Deacon Frantz reached for a book on the shelf. He stared at it for a while, arguing inwardly whether he should take it or choose another.

It didn't take him more than a minute to decide as he strode back towards his table while dusting off the book he had in his hands.

Frantz didn't sit back in his chair, he reached for the candle on his table then continued to walk towards the door and exited his office.

The small chapel in Cerefina Village was shrouded in complete darkness and silence. His footsteps echoed softly as he walked through the corridors, eventually stopping before a metallic door.

Tucking the book under his arm, he fumbled in his pocket for the keys and inserted one into the door's keyhole. As he pushed the door open, the dim light of his candle spilled into the darkness beyond, revealing a staircase leading underground.

Leaving the door ajar, he descended the stairs carefully, the faint flicker of the candlelight guiding his way. At the bottom, he arrived at another heavy metallic door. Sliding the key into the lock, he turned it, and the door creaked loudly as he pushed it open.

"You're back…!"

Deacon Frantz quickly glanced at the man who was standing against the wall and whose limbs were bound by chains.

The white-haired man was beaming at him, his scarlet eyes darting down at the book he was holding.

"Did you bring that for me?" he asked, not even trying to hide the joy in his voice.

Deacon stepped inside and placed the book and the candle on the table before he pulled the chair and sat on it, facing the white-haired man.

"Atticus," Deacon Frantz called out to the man, his voice calm, "I have a proposal for you."