Betrayal Knight's Joyful Faith

Chapter 277

“Therefore…”After Salem’s confession, Arendt, who had been listening quietly, tilted his head and began to speak.

“You are a third-generation shaman since the Great War. Since your predecessors died young, you were unable to properly inherit the teachings, so you are only half-baked, is that it?”

“Don’t say the word ‘half-baked’!”

Salem snapped at the indifferent tone.

It seems that he had been living with a complex about his ability all his life.

Arendt mentally organized the story Salem had just told him.

The shaman of the time when Hero Khan was active died immediately after the war ended.

He too could not escape God’s curse.

This was before the successor to the throne, Salem’s predecessor, had even reached adulthood.

In the end, Salem’s ancestors also did not receive proper education and were pushed into the position of shaman for a tribe that was in danger immediately after the war.

He was able to hold on for a while with the knowledge he learned from looking over his teacher’s shoulders.

However, the failure to properly go through the succession was the cause of his trouble, and he eventually died from the aftereffects of failing at sorcery.

This happened when Salem was just entering his teenage years and beginning his education.

“Then you can’t do anything?”

“…I guess that’s pretty much it.”

Salem, who was taken aback by Arendt’s cold question, answered.

“Shamans will continue to be born in the future, but if things continue like this, the lineage will end. So I was trying to find a way to do something…”

“Have you heard the story about the artifact?”

“….”

Salem nodded silently.

Arendt, who had been staring at him blankly, continued speaking indifferently.

“But of all things, this happened to be a sacred relic of the Evil Cult.”

The Unquenchable Heart hanging on Arendt’s fingertips shook slightly.

“Wouldn’t it be a problem if this was something related to the real Shadow Race? Could it be evidence that the Shadow Race sided with the Evil Cult during the past war?”

“That, that is…”

“But the evidence is a bit lacking. Isn’t it too much of a leap?”

Salem was about to say something, but Arendt cut him off first.

Arendt’s brow furrowed slightly as he sat with his back to the statue of Luce.

“If this is really an item from the Fourth Kingdom, wouldn’t you first think of the possibility that it was plundered during a war, instead of worrying about being considered a traitor?”

“Yes?”

Salem blinked curiously.

Arendt stared straight at him and continued speaking point by point.

“Even if someone from the Fourth Kingdoms was kidnapped and forced to give up their knowledge of sorcery, that’s a very conceivable case. I tried this myself and it was pretty amazing.”

The necklace dangled and sparkled again from Arendt’s fingertips.

“If what you say is true, even if I was born a shaman, I would have to train for quite some time to fulfill my role. But this artifact allows me to use the sorcery of the Shadow Race as is, as long as I know how to use magic.”

“Is that so…?”

“That’s why I gave it to His Highness the Crown Prince, who was weak. I thought even he would be able to use it well enough.”

“Is he weak?”

While Salem was shocked by the irreverent choice of words to address the Crown Prince, golden eyes moved silently to glance at the artifact.

“So I can completely understand why you would want this…”

With the shaman’s legacy on the line, the Unquenchable Heart was their last lifeline.

Not only could they study the artifact to gain a clue to their lost sorcery, but if they succeeded in negotiating with the Caerleon Empire and obtained it, they would no longer have to worry about the shaman.

The tradition could be maintained as long as the artifact was passed on to the one who was born with the pattern.

But there were clearly parts that couldn’t be explained with that alone.

Arendt’s gaze fell on Salem again.

“Why is your Grand Elder worried that you guys might be mistaken for an enemy force, even though there is no evidence to support that?”

“That…”

Salem just blinked stupidly.

His expression was so blank that it seemed as if he knew nothing.

But Arendt was able to get an answer from that response alone.

“Okay, what am I talking about with a child? I have a rough idea of ​​what happened.”

There was something that the Shadow Tribe’s elders have hidden from Salem as well.

“What, what is it?”

Salem asked in a bewildered manner, but Arendt didn’t reply.

Perhaps the Grand Elder discovered that his ancestors in the past, who were shamans, had sided with the Evil Cult.

That’s probably why he tried his best to avoid getting involved in this fight.

‘The traitor is either the shaman who died in the war… or his predecessor.’

However, judging from the fact that he dispatched Salem pretending to be unable to win, it seemed that he had no intention of becoming hostile to God Luce right away.

That was enough for now.

The moment the Unquenchable Heart was secured and held in his arms.

.

There was a polite knock from outside.

It was High Priest Lumiel who had sent the person.

Arendt, who got up first, lightly tapped Salem on the back of the head, making sure it didn’t hurt, as he stood there still in a daze.

“Ugh.”

“Let’s go, the High Priest is waiting.”

With those last words, Arendt leisurely left the prayer room just as he had entered.

Salem, who had touched the back of his head where Arendt’s hand had been, followed after him with a pursed mouth.

High Priest Lumiel, whom Arendt had not seen in a long time, welcomed Arendt and Salem warmly.

She, too, was quite excited at the prospect of meeting the shaman of the Fourth Kingdom in person.

The High Priest, who asked about the situation with a worried face and did not forget to nag Arendt not to do anything dangerous, gave a warm gaze to the hesitant Salem.

“Nice to meet you, Salem. I am truly grateful to God Luce for this wonderful opportunity to meet you.”

Salem, who had been very nervous, was finally able to relax.

Lumiel, who had created a comfortable atmosphere, began asking Salem various questions.

Most of them were trivial questions about the daily lives of the Shadow Race.

Thanks to this, Salem’s guard seemed to have completely let down.

While the two talked about this and that, Arendt stood back, sipping his tea.

High Priest Lumiel did her best to be Salem’s conversation partner.

Thanks to that, by the time they returned, Salem’s face was filled with regret.

After the promised time had passed and they left the Great Temple, Salem muttered in a voice that still had regrets.

“Her Excellency is truly a good person. How can I become as wise as her?”

He hid his face once again with his long hood.

Arendt responded without even looking at him.

“Give up because you were born different.”

“…”

Salem was once again overcome with emotion at the hateful words that came back without fail.

But Salem had become painfully aware over the past few hours that getting angry would do nothing, so he just stayed silent.

But the silence didn’t last long.

Salem spoke again.

“……What can I do then?”

Only then did Arendt glance at Salem.

The young voice that had been filled with respect and envy for the High Priest until just a moment ago now was filled with emptiness.

“I don’t know how to do what Sir Arendt says. The elders treat me as a shaman… but if they have that artifact, I guess they won’t need me anymore.”

Salem touched his face under his hood.

It was the spot with the pattern.

“I stubbornly came all the way to the Holy Empire, but in reality, I’m not very useful in war. I can’t become an excellent commander like Shekhinah, Ragnald, or Zakar.”

A gloomy voice continued to flow from under the hood.

“But that doesn’t mean that I can heal people unconditionally like the priests of God Luce. I always need someone to be a sacrificial lamb… and I don’t even know how to do that properly.”

Salem’s steps, following Arendt, gradually slowed down.

“I envy God Luce’s priests. They can heal people with just their own power.”

Arendt opened his mouth after seeing Salem mumbling.

“I don’t know about anything else, but remember this one thing, kid.”

“Yes?” Read full story at novelhall.com

Salem, who had been hanging his head, slightly lifted it and, at some point, found himself locking eyes with Arendt, who had been silently watching him.

Salem flinched involuntarily as he looked into those emotionless golden eyes.

“There is no such thing as mercy without a price in this world. Those who preach such things are all swindlers.”

At first glance, his tone seemed indifferent, but for some reason, his words carried an underlying sharpness.

Arendt added, glancing past Salem, who had stopped dead in his tracks.

“It’s better to pay the price that you can see than to act in a sinister way, saying things like mercy and such.”

“…No, wait, wait a minute! What do you mean by sinister?”

Salem, who had been staring blankly, suddenly came to his senses and quickly followed Arendt.

A voice full of reproach poured out from under the hood.

“Are you talking about the priests? How could you…? I heard you’re close with High Priest Lumiel!”

“It’s okay if you don’t understand.”

Arendt waved his hand in annoyance.

Strictly speaking, the swindler was God Luce and the priests were closer to the victims, but there was no need to tell Salem that.

It would be somewhat amusing to see him explode in outrage, claiming blasphemy.

‘By the way…’

What Salem just said caught his attention for a moment.

‘I think he’s more objective about himself than I thought.’

It wasn’t entirely wrong to say that he was a useless being.

The Grand Elder of the Shadow Race seemed to care for Salem in his own way, but he seemed to be far from respecting him as a Shaman.

It all started from the fact that Salem never revealed the key reason why he had to hide his identity.

‘This might just be my own worry, though.’

In his experience, in these cases, something always goes wrong.

And it also bothered him a little that Zakar stayed silent and left Salem to him.

Arendt stopped walking after thinking about it.

“Are all your subordinates trustworthy?”

“Huh?”

Salem’s eyes widened at the unexpected question.

“Of course… They are people carefully selected by the Grand Elder.”

“Hmm, so the Grand Elder has carefully selected them.”

A bitter smile appeared on Arendt’s lips as he recited Salem’s words.

After a moment of silence, Arendt blurted out in a seemingly light tone.

“It looks like you don’t have much talent for acting. How about going back and bragging to your closest subordinate about what happened today?”

“…Bragging?”

A doubtful voice came back from within the robe.

Arendt nodded.

“You saw the Great Temple, and had a long chat with the High Priest. You even saw the artifact. It seems like a pretty good day. It’s fine if you want to gossip about me, though.”

“Well…”

Salem was confused.

He had a feeling that it wasn’t meant to be a literal boast.

But Arendt did not say anything more and just strode ahead.

“Oh, wait a minute!”

Salem, who suddenly came to his senses, hurriedly followed him.

Arendt added, watching Salem follow him around like a magpie.

“Oh, right, I almost forgot. Come quietly to my room later at night. I’ll show you the artifact and also teach you how to use it. Don’t tell your subordinates, keep this to yourself.”

“Oh, really? Thank you!”

Salem smiled brightly from under the hood.

He didn’t seem to have any doubts at all.

‘It’s over, this guy.’

The apprentice knight, who had just experienced firsthand that kindness without a price was a scam, clicked his tongue in frustration.

This guy was so naive.