Chapter 92: |
At the time of the incident, Ricardis had also witnessed all the priests of the Great Temple interrogating Laheansi. Laheansi had been rolling on the floor with tears and a runny nose, weeping bitterly like a child, as the gray-haired priests watched.
[Oh, I don’t know, I didn’t know she was that kind of person!]
[I don’t know! What do you mean I was learning from a crazy woman who slandered Illavenia?!] He kept crying.
[E/N: Correction from last chapter- Windit is a woman.]
Of course, everyone believed he had nothing to do with Windit. But now he was saying his Master had taught him something?
“You said you didn’t receive any of Windit’s teachings.”
“I had been with Master for several years. Big Brother, you’re more innocent than I thought to buy that…”
You punk. Ricardis glared at him. Laheansi giggled as he spun around in his chair.
“She must’ve been executed unjustly.”
“She only cursed at Illavenia and His Majesty the Emperor.”
“…as she shouted about injustice?”
“Certainly… Even to me, it sounded a bit harsh…” said Laheansi as he looked into the air, recalling the past.
What curses have you spat, former High Priestess Windit…
“If you got a hint about the Blessed Night from Balta, not anywhere else, does that mean you can’t summon the White Night and the Black Moon solely using your power…?”
“No, I can’t. We need power from two people: one with holy power and one with magic. And judging from the literature, the date and time are also important. That leads me to another question: when’s the next full moon?”
Laheansi silently applauded.
Ricardis had been confident that his guess was roughly correct. He’d noticed the clue at the temple of Balta, and now he was relieved when the High Priest, the one closest to the Blessed Night after the Emperor, confirmed it.
“Nevertheless, Brother. The current Illavenian people are unaware of that fact. Illavenia intentionally erased the need for mages and magic. They caught Windit because she knew the secret and tried to spread the truth.”
Ricardis hated temples, so he wasn’t friendly with priests. He’d only seen Windit a few times too. He hadn’t even known she’d been such an intelligent person.
“It must have been difficult for the Emperor.”
“Well, everything else aside. Why do you think we haven’t had a White Night in Illavenia?”
“Because of the Emperor’s lack of competence and because the mages are hiding?”
“Yes, those are correct, but there’s something else too. If the Blessed Night requires someone with a certain level of holy power, then someone with a certain level of magic power is also required, right?”
As Laheansi recited the unfamiliar words, Ricardis nodded without saying anything.
“The bloodline of the Laurels of the Snowfield has been perfect for that role because they have strong holy power from generation to generation. So from generation to generation, they were able to call the White Night.”
“I guess…”
“Then, which bloodline is born with strong magic? Where are they now?”
Ricardis was seized by a striking sensation as if Laheansi had hit him in the head. He was right. The Laurels of the Snowfield: most of them bearing that name were always born with some amount of holy power. They had royal legitimacy and privileges because they could bring about the White Night and the Blessed Night.
So, as Laheansi had said, there’s a possibility that there existed a bloodline born and bred with strong magic power. However, he could not find them in any records or history books. Due to the nature of the Illavenian imperial family, who desperately erased the existence of demons and the role of magic, it was unknown whether they had also hidden that part. Nothing was certain…
“…Maybe there wasn’t any such bloodline in the first place?”
…So he had no choice but to give this silly answer.
Laheansi relaxed his half-closed eyes even more. Ricardis wondered if he was sleeping now, but Laheansi looked far away, lost in thought.
“There was.”
His short words confirming their existence pointed to the past, not the present.
Ricardis rubbed his chin, clearing his thoughts. Laheansi wouldn’t say this based on instinct. Whether it was from Windit or through the library that only the High Priest could access— this was very likely to be true.
A bloodline with strong magic had existed. So where were they now? Had they left unable to withstand the tyranny of Illavenia? Were they hiding? But was it possible to hold one’s breath without showing signs of existence over the centuries?
Even if they weren’t Laurels of the Snowfield, those with holy power were born all over the continent. Sometimes, some people’s abilities surpassed the imperial family’s, and in typical cases, they were brought to the temple and raised as priests. There were often cases of coercion, but parents usually handed over the child because there was a big reward.
If people with strong holy power were born all over the continent for hundreds of years, shouldn’t there also be people born with a significant level of magic power? Even if they weren’t of that lineage, shouldn’t there still be other mages? Nevertheless, the story of the imperial family of Illavenia not being able to call upon the White Night for centuries… was perhaps because there had been no mages that met the conditions.
At the same time that lineage disappeared, the well of powerful mages also dried up. In the unfathomable distant past, something must have happened. And due to that, the continent gradually began to deteriorate, and it probably all started with the Illavenian imperial family.
Ricardis laughed. This is it. You’ve finally done it. You guys just had to do something so stupid. It was like flipping the table upside down while trying to monopolize a game. It was embarrassing to wear the title Laurel of the Snowfield. I never dreamed the day would come when I thought it was fortunate our blood was not connected.
“There’s something to note here…” Laheansi continued.
When he’d stopped spinning around in his chair, he sat upright and rummaged through the Scripture stained in cookie grease.
“Right now, there is a strong mage with a great reputation on the continent.”
Ricardis’ eyebrows twitched. He leaned his upper body forward and gave Laheansi a sharp look.
“The more you know about the secret, the more need you will feel for Sir Rosaline.”
The fresh spring breeze seemed to leave his skin cold, causing goosebumps and tense nerves. It was a sentence that foreshadowed the difficulties of the future. Ricardis had also felt it, but hearing it from his half-brother, the High Priest, left another feeling. Even in the old days, prestigious High Priests didn’t give prophecies often.
The bell rang three times from the tower to signal prayer time. Ricardis’ eyes were directed past the door, drawing Rosaline’s figure in the distance. Recalling her nervousness, Ricardis stood up.
Laheansi also took off his light pajamas and changed into a robe lying on the floor.
“You’re more diligent than I thought.”
“By all means, I’m still the High Priest… See you next time.”
“Lahey.”
Laheansi grinned as he put on the white high-ranking official’s hat.
“Why are you so sweet, Brother? You always call me that when you need or want to ask me something.”
“And you always avoid answering. What changed your mind today?”
Ricardis looked at the busy figure of Laheansi. Lahey. It was the nickname Setistia used to call him.
Among his brothers, Laheansi seemed to be especially friendly with Ricardis. But, he never once ruled in favor of Ricardis. The Blessed Night. The White Night. Any clues, information, or secrets about things Ricardis had hoped to know as he rolled around on the battlefield, avoiding the blades of assassins— Laheansi had known some of them and had never shared them with Ricardis.
But why today? It was a natural question. Laheansi whined and pulled his necklace out from under the bed.
“Honestly, I thought you would die. From my expectations, you should’ve died about six years ago. You’re amazing, Bro.”
“Thank you for the compliment.”
Ricardis rubbed his chin sullenly. Laheansi looked in the mirror and tidied up his outfit, but he didn’t look a bit organized, so Ricardis stood up to help.
“But that alone isn’t enough. You can’t go around exposing these secrets to everyone, can you? It may threaten my life.”
“But…?”
Ricardis combed Laheansi’s hair by hand and tied it back. He had to fasten it loosely to avoid pulling too hard and causing Laheansi pain. After tying up his messy hair, he looked much more alive. Laheansi answered only after shooting a wink and an arrow of love at himself in the mirror.
“Now I’m going to risk my life.”
Ricardis looked at Laheansi’s face in the mirror; he didn’t grin or slouch as usual, and his gaze, fixed on one spot, was cast to a faraway place. Laheansi soon turned around and grinned. It was a smile Ricardis had seen often.
Through the gap in the slightly opened door, the priest who had guided Ricardis waited for Laheansi with an anxious face. Laheansi was the High Priest, but there must be a few times that he’d forgotten to attend the daily prayer.
Laheansi bustled around, ‘I’m late, I’m late, I’m late.’ He pretended to be busy while only moving his mouth.
“See you later, Bro.”
“Hurry up and go.”
“The blessing of Idelavhim-”
“Go away.”
Laheansi muttered the rest and then left with quick strides.