After all, yoma were fundantally different from demons or Outsiders. While yoma were created from transford spirits, animals, or human souls, demons and Outsiders were beings from entirely separate planes of existence.
The distinction explained why yoma were treated differently.
Michael smirked at the irony of the situation. Wasn't the Church of Radiance's behavior no different from the Outsider cults they vilified? Hidden away, gathering power in secret, the Church only seed "divine" because its influence was already established.
He quickly shook off the thought. In a world where divine eyes could land upon you at any mont, such musings were dangerous.
Curious, Michael asked, "If Leonardo has beco a yoma, what abilities has he gained?"
Alfred took a sip of tea, courtesy of Clara, before responding.
"Not all yoma gain special abilities, but ones created like this often do. Given Leonardo's prior gift from the Outsider, it's likely his abilities have evolved."
Leonardo bead with excitent.
"Indeed, Master! I can feel it. My original persuasion ability has expanded into the realms of hypnosis and suggestion. Should I demonstrate by charming this woman here?"
It seed becoming a yoma hadn't improved Leonardo's social awareness.
Michael shook his head in exasperation.
"She's my aunt. Treat her with the sa respect you show ."
Startled, Leonardo quickly apologized.
"Oh, my deepest apologies, my lady!"
Clara, ever unfazed by unusual personalities, smiled warmly and reassured him.
"It's fine, really. Just relax. By the way, could you chop so firewood outside? And while you're at it, maybe do so laundry too."
Her cheerful, nonchalant tone as she assigned chores left Michael speechless.
Indeed, the true ruler of the house was Clara.
At that mont, Court Marquis Woodrock sat in his opulent study alongside Count Charles, reviewing a missive from the royal palace. Sunlight stread through the large windows, casting shadows across the room and accentuating the refined elegance of the estate.
The walls were lined with centuries-old tos and exquisite artwork, while the heavy cherrywood desk bore neatly arranged docunts adorned with intricate insignias.
"So, they're quietly asking us to investigate the whereabouts of the blood quill…" Marquis Woodrock mused, folding the missive carefully and setting it aside.
He looked up, his expression thoughtful.
"Count Charles, you thoroughly searched Crowley Castle, didn't you? From my perspective, it seems likely that this Nicholas fellow fled to the Church of Radiance with the quill. Didn't they find a teleportation circle in the room he used as his sanctum?"
Count Charles hesitated montarily before nodding. Stay tuned with My Virtual Library Empire
"Yes, I think so too. There's no way to track him now, and the evidence points to the quill being returned to the Church of Radiance. We've already uncovered proof that their agents deliberately approached Nicholas and Leonardo," he said, his tone dark and heavy.
Marquis Woodrock snorted in disdain.
"Ha! Those brazen cowards. I hear they're now accusing us of hiding the blood quill. Such audacity from people who dare to call themselves priests."
He threw the docunt onto his desk with a show of anger.
Count Charles nodded, sharing the Marquis's frustration.
"Indeed. Truly despicable. They preemptively smuggled the quill away, and now they're accusing us of concealing it. It's infuriating," Charles said with a weary sigh.
Marquis Woodrock turned toward the window, gazing out thoughtfully.
"Still, with the Church of Radiance having retrieved the quill, there's no guarantee they won't cause another uproar, is there?"
He glanced back at Count Charles, who responded with firm resolve.
"They've suffered a severe humiliation, and their baseless accusations against us suggest they're desperate to deflect bla. It's likely they'll keep the quill hidden away for good this ti, both to avoid further scandal and to obscure their own sins," Charles said confidently.
Marquis Woodrock mulled over this for a mont before nodding.
"Fair point. If the quill reappeared, it would be like saring filth on their own faces."
He allowed himself a faint smile of relief. Count Charles returned the expression, reassured.
"So I think we can rest easy on that front," Charles concluded.
The Marquis's tense features relaxed slightly.
"Still, their cunning knows no bounds. Their bold accusations are likely a preemptive move to dissuade us from demanding greater compensation," Woodrock observed.
Charles nodded in agreent.
"Exactly. Infuriating as it is, at least we've secured a significant benefit: exemption from tithes. That alone is a win for us," he said, a small, satisfied smile spreading across his face. His eyes glead with the satisfaction of soone who had scored a minor victory over the Church.
Marquis Woodrock unfolded the missive once more, tapping his desk thoughtfully.
"I hear that young Michael of House Crassus distinguished himself during this ordeal. What's your impression of him?"
There was a trace of curiosity, perhaps even envy, in the Marquis's voice. While he acknowledged Michael's accomplishnts, there was a subtle undertone of resentnt—an unspoken comparison to his own son, who had yet to receive such recognition.
Charles's reply carried a hint of tension.
"He's a decent man. I had my son Louis spend so ti with him, and the boy said Michael was both competent and virtuous. From what I've seen, he's an exceptional talent, particularly in training soldiers. I even considered proposing a marriage alliance by offering my illegitimate daughter, but… I didn't want to risk straining relations over her status, so I dropped the idea altogether," Charles admitted, his tone tinged with regret.
Marquis Woodrock watched Charles's expression with interest, detecting the faintest trace of jealousy.
"I see. If he's of that caliber, then it's no surprise the royal palace is considering raising his title and expanding his lands," Woodrock remarked casually.
Charles's eyes widened in shock.
"An elevation in rank and additional lands?"
He sank back into his chair, struggling to process the news. Jealousy and wariness swirled within him at the prospect of House Crassus receiving such a substantial reward.
"That's… problematic," Charles murmured. "House Crassus holds one of the five baronies carved from the old Barkley Earldom, shared among five vassals. Expanding their territory would cause significant backlash from the others. They swore a pact among themselves to prevent just such an occurrence."
His voice carried both genuine concern and thinly veiled resentnt.
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