The Last Graduate of the Monastery

"Go." Rorschach wanted to leave quickly. Pascal pulled Paulina away at top speed.

Clinging to him like a lifeline, Valan tried to shout, "My friend! He's a mag—" Then he felt his mouth firmly covered and could not utter another word.

This gambling mutt knew I was a mage and still wanted to latch onto me. Rorschach did not waste words. A Mage Hand would do.

The crowd of spectators gathered around again. "Where did all these loafers come from?" Rorschach did not know that Valuana's casinos were like fresh meat drawing flies. Those who had squandered all their money and property would blindly waste away their lives nearby.

"Valan suddenly got incredibly lucky. How much has he won?"

"This kid saved Valan at noon!"

"Did this kid teach Valan a trick or something?"

Unexpectedly, the young man was something of a celebrity at the casino. The noble young master who had first come here had once enjoyed his share of glory, but after his father died of illness and his family went bankrupt, his "hobby" drove him to jump into a river. When he failed to die, everyone suddenly discovered that his luck had become unstoppable. Starting from a self-service table with two copper coins, he had rolled the snowball all noon and amassed over a hundred gold coins' worth of chips.

After the bystanders finished speaking, two of the burly men holding Valan down broke away and approached Rorschach. Just as Rorschach hesitated over whether to cast magic in public, an elderly man in a black clerical robe seized him without explanation. The others consciously made way when they saw the old man. Rorschach was led into the neighboring building.

"A church?" Rorschach was shocked to see the Holy Emblem of the God of Light and Order. There had been no sign of it from outside, and its doors and windows had still been tightly shut that morning.

Inside was a hall beneath the Holy Emblem, simply furnished with three rows of two chairs, with bookcases lining both sides. The ceiling depicted believers and angels bathed in light.

"Not a church, child. A monastery," the old man corrected him, then gestured for the two to sit. "It is where I and the other clergymen study, live, and cultivate ourselves. It is not open to the public. I saw that you were in trouble and brought you here to take shelter."

"A monastery built beside a casino?"

"It was the casino that opened beside the monastery." The old man smiled helplessly. "Ignorance is no sin, and I rather like it this way. The casino is filled with order."

"They're all games of chance inside."

"But they are bound by visible and invisible order. Beneath the radiance of the Lord, we all cast the dice of fate. Whether the roll is good or bad is determined by the Lord's order. Those casino thugs are far inferior to holy knights, but they are still maintainers of order."

Rorschach was deeply shaken by such a blasphemous comparison. "But the casino seems terrible. That Valan earlier seemed to have won too much, and they refused to pay out. Isn't that the casino violating order?"

"Hehe. Making money for its owner and His Majesty the King—that is the greatest order in that place. And they will question Valan: if he suddenly became invincible, did he use improper tricks to win? If so, he violated order first. It also reminds us at all times that not all order signifies light and justice."

"Enough, Father. Even a mage thinks there is something wrong with your theory. No monk would come here to cultivate himself." A man seated in the first row, his back turned to the newcomers all this time, rose with the aid of a cane. Limping on his right foot, he walked over with a tap at every step.

"Your Excellency the Archbishop."

"Call me Duplessis, as before, Father." Eagle-like eyes swept over Rorschach, and a golden glint flashed between his pupils. "What have you brought in? A mage—and an Imperial man at that."

Rorschach had thought the man was about to make trouble, but instead he extended a hand. "I am Duplessis, Archbishop of St. Miller's Church."

Rorschach shook his hand. Duplessis's hand was exceptionally cold. Rorschach still did not know what the bishop of this church meant to the kingdom. The man's tone and gaze both irritated him somewhat; that was simply the aura he gave off.

"Rorschach, a mage of the Tower of Stars."

"You became a mage at such a young age. Did you get your salary from the tower and decide to have some fun at the casino, hmm?" Without waiting for a reply, the archbishop continued, "Don't make that face. Fine, you're an upright young man. Aren't you curious how I knew you were from the Empire?"

He tapped the ground beside Rorschach's feet with his cane. "You have both a mountain accent and the manner of speech of the Imperial Capital. I hear His Majesty the Emperor likes to scour the countryside for talented children to train. Here in Valuana, most of the fools who hear your accent would arrogantly assume you are some country bumpkin from the provinces. That is simply what they are like."

His next question caught Rorschach by surprise. "How did you get here? By airship?"

"I took a job guarding a merchant caravan and traveled by land."

"Interesting. A mage still willing to take thankless work—I would almost suspect you of being a spy." The archbishop smiled and continued asking, "Did any holy knights make things difficult for the caravan when you entered the city? Was the entry tax the six li stipulated by kingdom law?"

Then he asked whether the officials at the checkpoint had been "greedy," and whether the road to the Royal Capital was easy to travel.

Greatly astonished, Rorschach answered all these questions. The questioner was hardly a high-ranking clergyman; he seemed more like a governor who cared deeply for the people.

"Enough. It is about time. The busybodies outside should have dispersed by now. Father, take this uninvited guest out through the back door." With that, he took a small notebook and an especially fine charcoal pencil from his clerical robe and began recording something.

"No offense, but are all bishops of the God of Order like this?" Before leaving, Rorschach could not help asking the Father.

The Father looked back at the man seated in the hall and smiled. "Here, he is my student, the last graduate of the monastery. Once he walks out that door, he is the Archbishop of St. Miller's Cathedral, Cardinal Chancellor Duplessis of the Holy Kingdom. All right, child, you do not belong here. Go."

A carriage bearing the Royal Palace's emblem stood in the rear courtyard, its driver having waited for the cardinal archbishop for quite some time.

Necker Jean, reputed to be Valuana's most outstanding banker, had recently been riding high.

His Majesty the King had followed the Captain of the Guard's suggestion and invited "the richest and most decisive man to manage His Majesty's treasury and the kingdom's coffers." The recipient of such lavish praise was this young man, still blessed with a full head of hair. Necker was about to become the Royal Palace's Minister of Finance!

Necker had just met with the Cardinal Chancellor. That strange fellow had insisted on holding their first discussion far from the financial district and the Royal Palace, in an even stranger monastery beside a casino.

The banker had convinced His Excellency the Chancellor with his ambitious plans—or at least, that was what he believed. But he still had a drastic measure he had not yet revealed, one whose full scope only His Majesty knew. "Your Majesty, you no longer need to be manipulated by the Holy See and the Mage Guild!" You should be disciplined by money instead!

At that thought, Necker smiled. He was already in his carriage when he noticed the commotion at the casino entrance.

A pitiful young man was being savagely beaten. Asking those nearby, he learned that the unlucky fellow had not, contrary to what he had imagined, been beaten for owing money, but because he had won so much that the casino had turned against him.

"Valan?" The young man was actually someone he knew.

"Sir? You know me?" A new lifeline had appeared. Valan crawled out from beneath the fists to the feet of the elegantly and expensively dressed man. "Save this poor man! Save me!"

The afternoon class was not a filler class, so I could not write. Tonight's chapter will be updated at eight. Sorry. (:>)|￣|＿