Chapter 9. What Is Faith
Mills rubbed his plump hands together. Originally, he had not been very clear about this question either.
“Your doubts are entirely reasonable.”
He spoke sincerely. “To be frank, I myself could not make sense of it for the longest ti. With the intelligence rchant’s abilities, whether he restrained those dark creatures or not would not affect his own interests. In fact, the greater the chaos, the easier it would be for him to reap profits.”
He paused, then continued, “But what I witnessed today, along with your presence, has given a sowhat different conjecture.”
“Oh? Let’s hear it.” O’Brien’s interest had been stirred.
“As a rchant, I always used to view people and matters from the perspective of profit. In doing so, I overlooked the most important point—what is it that we are truly seeking?”
Mills unconsciously rubbed the ring on his finger. It had been a gift from his mother before he ca to Coral Thorn City.
“When undertaking sothing—be it a deal, a transaction, or a decision—I always sought to maximize its profit. That may not be wrong.” He shook his head. “But precisely because of this ingrained habit of thinking, I may have missed too much… far too much beauty and joy beyond transactions.”
This ti, Mills t the Paladin’s gaze directly.
“My lord, forgive my boldness. As a Paladin, would you ever betray the unshakable faith in your heart for mountains of gold and silver, for overwhelming power and authority?”
“Of course not!” O’Brien answered without hesitation.
“Exactly!” Mills’ voice carried a resonant excitent. “You rejoice in eradicating evil, feel joy in aiding the weak, take pride in upholding your oath. You have never concerned yourself with personal gains or losses. That is the fundantal difference between Paladins and rchants or nobles like us!”
He drew a deep breath, his eyes burning as he looked at O’Brien. “Then please consider this as well… Could it be that everything the intelligence rchant has done is likewise… not for so-called profit? But simply because he wishes to do so?”
O’Brien fell into deep silence.
After a long while, he spoke slowly.
“You an… that he does these things out of so… faith?”
“Exactly!” Mills affird decisively. “Faith—nothing more.”
O’Brien exhaled long and deep. Though he upheld the creed of eradicating all darkness, years of experience had taught him better than anyone what true darkness was. It was darkness rooted in thought itself, corruption and distortion deeply embedded in the soul—these were the true breeding grounds of monsters.
“Speak,” O’Brien’s voice grew lower, though less cold than before. “What exactly did he send you here for?”
Mills felt a surge of certainty. The change in address ant the man had set aside part of his hostility. He was far more confident about the rest of the conversation.
A sincere smile blood across his plump face. He bowed again, respectful yet fervent.
“My lord, the intelligence rchant has asked to convey a request—he sincerely hopes that you would et a boy and test whether he possesses the potential to walk the path of a Paladin. Regardless of the outco, this is rely a pure attempt concerning inheritance. Nothing more.”
Mills’ words caused O’Brien’s eyes to widen instantly. It had been a long ti since he had lost control of his expression.
At this mont, like Mills before him, he wondered if he had misheard. A vampire recomnding an heir to a Paladin? What kind of primordial joke was this?
Before he could break free from the absurdity of it all, Mills added, “My lord, I have here a recording crystal detailing this boy’s upbringing. I originally feared that viewing it beforehand might affect your later judgnt in testing him. But after much thought, I believe honesty is the foundation of trust and nothing should be concealed. Whether to watch it now is entirely your decision.”
“Let see it.”
O’Brien felt as though he had gone mad, yet he found himself eager to know what this was about.
Investigating a candidate’s upbringing was itself part of a Paladin’s assessnt, so he found nothing improper in it. And he was genuinely curious—what kind of experience would lead a vampire to go to such lengths to find a Paladin as a ntor for a boy?
Mills handed over a magic crystal that recorded images. As spiritual power flowed into it, scenes of Dean’s past gradually unfolded in the air…
When the image froze upon the boy’s stubborn and pure vow, the tight furrow in O’Brien’s brow slowly eased.
“So that’s how it is…”
He murmured softly. His gaze t the youth’s eyes in the image—eyes burning with unwavering conviction. In that instant, his teacher’s hoarse voice seed to echo in his heart—
‘Faith is often born in the most unexpected corners.’
A child raised by a vampire, yet possessing a sincerity countless others lacked—what irony. Even more ironic was that the vampire had personally placed the child before him.
He did not question the authenticity of the recording. A Paladin’s initiation trial was to confront one’s true self. Any false mory or fabricated will would turn to ashes beneath the Holy Light.
O’Brien returned the crystal to Mills and fixed him with a blazing gaze.
“Tell him I agree. He may bring the boy to see at any ti. But a Paladin’s trial is no child’s play. If the boy cannot pass and falls during the trial, do not bla for failing to warn you.”
“Yes! Yes! Thank you so much, my lord!”
Mills was overjoyed. His round face flushed red like a ripe apple. After bowing deeply, he clambered rather clumsily yet swiftly onto the beast of burden and, with his attendants, hurried off along the forest path.
O’Brien remained standing where he was, watching their departing figures. A complex light flickered within his gray-blue eyes.
He slowly lifted his head and looked toward the sun hanging high in the sky, radiating boundless light and heat. In a low murmur, as if conversing with his unseen ntor, he said:
“Teacher, you were right… The boundary between light and darkness may be far more blurred than we imagined. We Paladins should break our preconceived notions and attempt more possibilities. Only then might we hope to change this world.”
At the sa ti, sitting within the carriage, the corner of Kyle’s lips curved into a aningful smile beneath his silver mask.
“Sis, you really helped a lot this ti.”
————
In the west of the city, inside a room thick with the sll of tobacco and alcohol at the headquarters of the ‘Poison Scorpion’ Gang.
“What?! You’re saying that penniless Zack is setting sail?”
A bald, burly man with a strange dark-red scorpion tattoo across his face glared at the subordinate reporting to him.
“Y-Yes, boss! The informant at the port said he saw Zack chatting and laughing with Old Owen at the harbor market today, buying salvage equipnt. He might be heading out to sea within the next few days!”
A thin, dark man with a similar scorpion tattoo knelt on one knee, trembling.
‘Damn it. I thought that broke adventurer team was about to fall apart and I could take advantage of it. Now that bastard is laughing and preparing to sail—don’t tell he’s going to turn things around?!’
He had already planned how to divide up the Rock Adventurer Team’s territory. Especially the group of orphans in that orphanage—if no one took them in, their gang could sell those brats to traffickers for at least a hundred gold coins! At worst, cripple them and toss them onto the streets to beg—it would still be inco!
The more he thought about it, the more uneasy he felt. The Poison Scorpion Gang’s territory bordered the Rock Team’s. If Zack managed to rise again, he would have no choice but to continue shrinking into this corner.
He suddenly smashed the wooden table beside him, snarling, “Go! Contact the Sea Ghost Gang. I want to see what waves he can stir at sea with those few scraps of n he has left! I want them all… sunk to the bottom to feed the fish!”
“And have ‘Black Scorpion’ keep an eye on Zack. Find out what gives him such confidence!”
“Yes, boss!”
In the city, it was hard to act—but once at sea, there were far fewer rules.
Zack, let’s see where you run this ti!
Reviews
All reviews (0)