Mist

After witnessing Veronica in action, especially after seeing her transformation where her divinity seemed to overflow, it was difficult for Horn to find the courage to say "no" to her face.

Obediently following Veronica, walking along an open-air corridor where seagulls could be seen soaring high from time to time, Horn felt the cool breeze brushing comfortably against his face, as pleasant as an evening stroll in early summer.

But wasn't it almost winter now?

"How do you feel?"

A gust of fishy sea breeze blew by, and amidst the sound of the wind, Veronica, who was leading the way ahead, asked abruptly.

"Feel about what?"

Taken aback by the out-of-the-blue question, Horn asked back in confusion.

"How does it feel to be a transcendent? More accurately, how does it feel to be an Apprentice?"

"Do you feel any strange impulses affecting your thinking? Like Restlessness, unease, or your skin starting to itch? Or perhaps a thirst for knowledge? Appetite? Do you crave conflict, or do you crave Silence?"

"I feel... fine? If anything, I feel too calm."

Trying to clench his fist, Horn did not feel the abnormalities Veronica spoke of; on the contrary, he felt extremely calm. It was as if all his impulses had been burned away along with the flames, leaving a sense of emptiness within his heart.

Completely devoid of worldly desires.jpg

"That's good, at least there are no signs of losing control. For a rare self-awakened one, it's even better than expected."

Although Veronica's pace never changed from start to finish, she kept her walking speed just a little faster than Horn's, leaving him no time to look around. In the gaps between walking, he took the opportunity to ask:

"Self-awakened?"

"Yes, being able to shake off such strong influences of [Mind] and [Blood] from the [Storm Burnt Offering], and achieving the First Seal by belonging to the [Ember]—this is undoubtedly a symbol of self-awakening. That black fire that cleared the pollution from your body at the end must be your awakened innate ability, right? Truly a young talent."

"Ah, yes. That's right, um, that's exactly it."

Still wondering how to explain the anomaly in his body, Horn was stunned for a moment, then nodded repeatedly, unable to agree more.

Whether she believed it or not, Horn believed it. Since he had a convenient excuse, he had to solidify the setting that the [Flame of Destiny] was his innate talent.

I, Horn, have reached this point today entirely through my own talent and hard work. [Flame of Destiny], add points!

Not surprised by Horn's answer—or rather, having already preset the result in her mind—Veronica kept walking, leading Horn toward the land vaguely visible in the distance. Along the way, monks wearing light purple robes also walked on the path, but upon seeing Veronica, they all stood respectfully on both sides of the road, chanting in low voices.

Seemingly accustomed to such scenes, the golden-haired girl rubbed her forehead, letting the monks perform their faith. She explained to Horn, who was curiously staring at the hawthorn leaf decorations on the monks' chests:

"The monks here originally separated from the ancient [Sisterhood of Knots], inheriting a part of their traditions. On this isolated island, they still plant yew and hawthorn trees, maintaining the habit of offering sacrifices to the [Double-Horned Battle Axe] at the end of the year."

"Of course, their primitive rituals cannot bring much power today and can no longer be called [Formless Secret Arts]; at best, they are just remnants of power. That is why they are not strong enough to attract an investigation from the Prevention and Suppression Bureau, yet they are far enough away from prying eyes to continue their peaceful lives."

"But they all seem to know you?"

Seeing an old woman wearing a dark purple robe different from the other monks, trembling and leaning on others while bowing and praying piously to Veronica, Horn couldn't help it. He shifted slightly away from the golden-haired girl walking in front, who looked embarrassed, to avoid being bowed to as well.

"Ahem." Clearing her throat, Veronica increased her walking speed a little more, as if fleeing toward the monastery gate, which was now visible in outline. "This is the downside of faith. I just made some improvements and reinforcements to their isolation ritual while passing by, and they took me for a saint performing miracles on earth. There's nothing I can do. After all, it's not a bad thing; being worshipped is better than them worshipping just anything."

After a moment's thought, she added, "But I still hold the position of consultant for the Prevention and Suppression Bureau, so it's best not to talk too much about these things; it doesn't look good."

"--Just like I didn't report your feat of transforming into a fire giant."

"Oh----"

Drawing out the sound in agreement, Horn gave her an "I understand" look and nodded repeatedly.

Those who know, know.jpg

However, after this little interlude, the sense of estrangement between him and Veronica dissipated quite a bit, and there was even a feeling of being accomplices. Horn shyly rubbed his hands together and took the opportunity to ask the question he wanted to know most right now.

"Um, um, is the [Blood Cup Cult] dead and gone? Are there any remaining threats that haven't been eliminated? For such a heinous organization, how much is the bounty?"

Just as she was about to push open the monastery gate decorated with a pair of deer antlers, Veronica's wrist paused. She turned her head with a complex expression, looking at Horn, who appeared innocent and harmless, even eager to try, as if they weren't discussing the eradication of a long-standing secret society, but rather discussing the light task of weeding the backyard.

She was silent for a moment.

"Hey, hey, fighting evil cults is everyone's responsibility. If there's really no bounty, I can do it as volunteer work!"

Mistaking Veronica's silence for a refusal, Horn braced himself and acted righteously, fearing he would miss out on such a good source of experience.

The use and upgrading of the [Flame of Destiny] required a large amount of spirituality to support, and [Blood] was the thing Horn had come into contact with the most so far, and also the easiest to burn. As long as he left them with a breath and didn't burn them to death, the spirituality would flow in continuously—it was simply excellent fuel.

"No, there is a bounty, and it is very generous. But the [Blood Cup Cult] has indeed been wiped out; Saliba, who died in Birmingham, was its last High Priest. As for whether there are any remaining cultists, that is no longer the focus of the Prevention and Suppression Bureau."

"Dealing with cultists who are either stupid, ambitious, or both stupid and ambitious is just an unpleasant, unexpected event. For the Prevention and Suppression Bureau, what we truly need to fight against are these."

The retro-looking monastery gate, centered on the deer antlers, slid silently to both sides, revealing the thick gray fog outside the monastery. Even for the damp seaside, this fog was unusually dense. The dark gray fog gathered in clusters near the ground, rolling within the slightly thinner light gray fog, with multi-limbed nodules extending from the main body resembling spiders, swaying slightly as if they were truly living things.

"Caw caw!"

A seagull flying from the direction of the monastery lost its way in the thick fog, flapping its wings helplessly, letting out panicked cries as it slowly approached the ground.

No, not approaching.

It was falling.

Flames ignited silently at the bottom of Horn's pupils. Under the spiritual vision enhanced by the [Flame of Destiny], the fog blocking his view cleared, reduced to a level where he could barely see the situation inside.

And so, Horn saw.