Iver smiled meaningfully, as if deep in thought. "No wonder... the Good Lords are hereditary, while their Children never gained this ability to summon water.
"No wonder killing a Good Lord was some kind of forbidden taboo in the desert, either. According to this method of inheritance, if a Good Lord were killed, then the remaining Good Lords would only grow fewer and fewer.
"You need the previous generation's head to obtain this power and engrave this technique, right? That's why you refused to teach me this knowledge, because this isn't merely a technique for summoning water... It's an inheritance that requires life as the price."
"...My lord, my lord... please! Please forgive me..."
Afuxin's voice was rough and hoarse, and he suffered as if he were naked, struggling and rolling on a ground covered with sharp stones. "I'm willing to help you take the contract emblems of the other Good Lords! Please—save me, save me!"
"So that's how it is..."
Iver murmured softly as he reached out and touched the lines on Afuxin's forehead.
It was a mark that looked like a sunstone—a regular octagon with eight sharp isosceles triangles extending in all directions. Like the markings on a watch, the triangles at the top, bottom, left, and right were somewhat larger.
"—You became a Good Lord through this...?"
The moment he touched it lightly, the emblem suddenly lit up.
Iver immediately felt a scorching heat. It was Afuxin's burning skin. Like an inflamed limb, the skin around the sun-mark on his forehead quickly turned red, even dark red. The slightest touch brought a sensation of swelling and searing heat, while the originally black emblem turned into a glowing white.
"No, no... wh-why... My lord, my lord! Pope Your Majesty, please!"
Afuxin didn't understand why this change had occurred.