Chapter 95: A Misunderstanding

"I'm here to see you."

"Oh?" 

The priest looked slightly surprised. "Then this is about the commission?"

"That's right."

"Very well. I'll come find you once the Eucharist ceremony is over. If you're hungry, you're welcome to join us for the meal."

"Thank you."

Soon, Emlyn appeared, skillfully distributing items related to the Eucharist among the congregation. When he spotted Edward, he paused slightly, seemingly wanting to approach and speak. But after noticing Father Utravsky's gaze, he held back—looks like he'd been thoroughly tamed by the priest during this time.

———

By the time the Eucharist ended, night had already fallen.

The worshippers left the church one by one after bidding Father Utravsky farewell. Emlyn was busy cleaning up and taking things back to the kitchen.

The bishop walked over with heavy steps, his face full of apology. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"No, I should've picked a better time to come."

"As I mentioned last time, the reward for this commission will be an Apothecary potion formula and a mystical item without any major side effects. Is that acceptable?"

Edward nodded. "I heard that you possess a mystical item capable of allowing its user to enter the deepest part of a target's psyche."

Father Utravsky raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. "I don't recall telling anyone about that item after obtaining it. Where did you hear that?"

"Uh..."

In the past, whenever he encountered situations where his knowledge came off as 'prophetic', Edward would always brush it off with the excuse of having 'heard it somewhere'. Some might find it suspicious, but no one had pressed him about it before.

This time, though, things were a bit awkward.

"Actually…I don't remember where I heard it. Maybe, maybe…" Edward quickly glanced at the massive symbol of the Earth Mother. "Maybe the Mother Goddess gave me a revelation in secret?"

"I see."

Father Utravsky nodded solemnly, fully accepting this explanation.

"It was under the Goddess's blessing that I obtained the Mental Terror Candle. It seems you're fated with the Mother. Perhaps you could consider becoming one of "Her" faithful?"

"...I'll think about it."

The priest reached into a concealed pocket in his brown clerical robe and pulled out a strange segment of candle. The outer layer of the candle looked as though it were wrapped in human skin, with several raised lumps protruding from it. The wick was only about a finger joint tall, pitch-black and etched with dense, fine scale-like patterns.

"All you need to do is ignite it with spirituality, and it will allow you to enter the deepest part of the target's psyche. And my commission is to use it…to kill the past self buried deep within my own heart."

As he said this, he sized Edward up, his tone uncertain. 

"I can't see through you. Rationally, I think it would be difficult for you to complete this task. But my intuition tells me…you might be dangerous."

If Edward were just a Sequence 7 Astrologer, he'd have no chance against a Sequence 6 Dawn Paladin. But with his magic, even an average Sequence 6 might not be a match for him.

The only issue was—once he entered the bishop's psyche, would he still be able to use his spells normally?

"If you can resolve my problem, the rest of the Mental Terror Candle will be yours."

Edward thought for a moment, then said, "I'd like to first test the candle with Emlyn, to determine if I have the ability to help you."

The bishop nodded without hesitation. "That's fine."

Boom!

At that moment, a loud noise rang out from the back of the church, followed by Emlyn's startled shout, "Hey? You again? I already told you—wait, where are you taking me?! Hey!"

Father Utravsky immediately rushed toward the back. A set of silver-white armour materialised out of thin air, enclosing his brawny body. Edward followed close behind.

When the two reached the rear courtyard, they saw that the doors and windows had been smashed apart, shattered glass and splintered wood strewn everywhere. Two burly men in shirts were carrying a struggling Emlyn and bolting from the church.

"Zombies?"

The bishop picked up speed, then stomped his foot down hard. A wave of radiant energy surged forward about thirty centimetres off the ground.

In an instant, the legs of both men were shredded into pieces, and they collapsed to the ground with Emlyn. Yet, as if immune to pain, they didn't let go of him. Even without legs, they still clutched him tightly and tried to drag him forward.

Emlyn yelled in disbelief, "Are you guys insane?! Still won't let go after that?!"

A man in a black trench coat and hood stepped out from the shadows. He grabbed Emlyn, slung him over his shoulder, and ran without even sparing the bishop a glance.

The bishop's steps quickened. At over two meters tall, each of his strides was equal to two or three of a normal man's—and faster, too. The gap between him and the hooded man was quickly closing.

A massive sword formed from pure light appeared in the bishop's hands. Gripping it with both hands, he stepped forward and swung. The sonic boom from the blade's arc nearly knocked the black-clad man off balance even before the sword arrived.

The man remained silent, but Emlyn was already screaming, "Father! Are you aiming at me with that thing?!"

The bishop shifted stance, switching to one hand and sweeping horizontally. Just then, his movements froze, his body going rigid. Within his pupils, a faint silhouette of a woman in an antique gown appeared.

"Light!"

With a shout, Father Utravsky regained control over his body. A translucent figure flew out from him and disappeared in a flash. A flurry of icy crystal arrows shot forth, cutting off his immediate pursuit.

Clink clink clink!

The crystal arrows struck the bishop's silver armour with crisp, sharp sounds but failed to harm him.

He launched himself toward where the figure had vanished, his greatsword slashing the air in a violent flurry. To an onlooker, it looked like he was fighting with nothing—but to the actual target, dodging was getting increasingly difficult. Though in a shadowy, incorporeal state only visible to high-Sequence Beyonders, the bishop had still managed to lock onto them with sheer instinct.

Elsewhere, the man in the black coat was sprinting away from Harvest Church with Emlyn over his shoulder when he suddenly realised his companion hadn't followed. He turned to rush back—only to find Edward standing right there.

"Diffindo."

The man had no time to react before a gash opened up across the arm holding Emlyn.

Edward was momentarily stunned. That spell had been intended to sever the opponent's wrist, but it had only left a shallow wound. The black-coated man was equally shocked—ever since becoming an advanced undead, his body had been as hard as steel, capable of withstanding bullets and even cannon fire.

Yet now, someone had effortlessly cut him.

He quickly flung Emlyn aside, launched off the ground, and charged toward Edward. The sudden acceleration caused a gust of wind that blew his hood back, revealing a pale, cold face.

Edward, who had been about to cast another spell, froze in place. 

"Mr. Maric?"

But Maric seemed not to hear him. His hands transformed into claws with long, sharp nails as he lunged at Edward.

"Stupefy!"

A burst of light flared outward. Maric's movements faltered, then he was hit by a barrage of control spells—Tarantallegra, Confundus and others in quick succession. Even though a Sequence 6 Zombie had high resistance to magic, the rapid, repeated strikes caused him to twitch unnaturally, like a glitching puppet.

By the time Maric recovered and closed the distance, Edward was already gone.

He spun around and saw Edward standing beside Emlyn. Before he could act, both of their figures twisted—and vanished.

"Damn it!"

———

Father Utravsky's relentless assault had lasted for nearly two to three minutes. He seemed tireless, as if completely unaware of exhaustion. The invisible foe had been pushed to the brink.

With no room left to retreat, a golden light flared around him—Hurricane of Light: the Dawn Paladin's specialized technique against vengeful spirits and evil beings.

"Father! Miss Sharron! Stop! This is all a misunderstanding!"

Bzzz— 

The golden light flashed and vanished. The bishop halted his attack, taking a few steps back to look at Edward.

A blonde woman in an old-fashioned court gown appeared, solidifying from shadow. Her face was pale and expressionless, but only she knew how frustrated she felt inside. She was clearly one Sequence higher than this burly priest, yet had been completely on the defensive.

She now truly understood just how difficult it was to face a nemesis with natural counters against her.

Seeing that neither of them was injured, Edward let out a breath of relief. Under Sharron's questioning gaze, he explained, "Miss Sharron, it's me…Braveheart Bar, Reinette Tinekerr."

Upon hearing her teacher's name, Sharron immediately understood. She made a gesture toward the returning Maric. 

"Maric, he's the one we're looking for."

"???"

The moment Edward recognised Maric, he more or less guessed what had happened.

He had approached Sharron and Maric while disguised as Emlyn. And now, clearly, the two had come here looking for Emlyn. The reason behind it wasn't hard to figure out.

They weren't 'kidnapping' him—they were rescuing him.

What a blunder.

———

"So you've been going around using my face?"

Back inside the church, now that the misunderstanding had been resolved, everyone sat down together. Emlyn pointed at Edward, stunned. 

"You…you didn't ruin my reputation, did you!?"

"You're a vampire who collects figurines. What reputation do you even have to ruin?" 

"It's Sanguine!"

Emlyn's face flushed crimson. He muttered through gritted teeth, "Those are art. They're manifestations of beauty—a thousand times purer than you filthy lot…"

He then turned to glare at Maric and snapped, "And you! This is the third time you've come for me. And the third time I've told you—you've got the wrong person! Why are you so convinced I'm being held against my will?! I only have two more weeks until I'm free!"

He quickly turned to the bishop to explain, "I was forced the entire time! They can all vouch for me!"

Maric apologized without hesitation. 

"I'm sorry."

That caught Emlyn completely off guard—and just made him angrier.

Then, he got even angrier.

———

[Note]: Don't forget to VOTE. It keeps me motivated.