Chapter 65#

His Holiness, the Pope Who Scatters Sacred Light#

Lalan Highlands. Edge of the basin.

A sound of something cutting through the air rang out in the dense jungle, and a storm-hunting falcon dropped from the sky.

A young man dressed as a ranger pushed through the underbrush and walked over, the bowstring of the short bow in his hand still trembling slightly. He picked up the falcon and tossed it over his shoulder into the sturdy arms of the warrior behind him.

“Reid, aren’t we about done?” The young ranger felt like blisters were forming on his drawing hand.

“Pol, the employer said he wants to eat dragon hawk wings.” Reid shrugged.

“Where am I supposed to find a dragon hawk for this young master! Even if we found one, the whole squad going after it would be suicide!” Pol was on the verge of a breakdown.

Their employer, a man named Ionas, had given them a whole bag of gold coins as a deposit alone. The task was simple too — they didn’t even have to enter the basin, just walk a lap along its edge and report any strange structures they found. They had been overjoyed, thinking their squad had struck it rich with a clueless, money-loaded fat sheep. This young master had clearly taken the epic poems sung by bards as the truth.

Beautiful Lalan Highlands!

Once the homeland of dragons,

This land, wild and beautiful,

This land, mysterious and enchanting.

Until the divine miracle descended,

The Dragon Isle rose into the sky…

As for this legend, those who didn’t believe it scoffed. Raising such a vast region into a floating island was something only a god could do. But which god would be so bored as to perform such a meaningless act? Even if dragons lived on the ground, no creature dared trespass upon their territory. Why bother building a floating island?

Those who did believe it, however, came one after another to the edge of the basin, hoping to map its rim and compare the outline with the Dragon Isle in the sky. If the two could overlap, it would surely be one of the greatest discoveries in the continent’s history.

Yet to this day, no one had been able to complete a map of the Lalan Basin, because the Lalan Basin was simply too dangerous. The terrain was complex and magical beasts ran rampant. It was said that some had even spotted wyverns deep within the basin. Wyverns possessed dragon bloodlines, and since dragons had vanished from the continent, wyverns had become the most dangerous creatures on the land.

This young noble named Ionas had clearly been duped by the bards, his blood stirred up with excitement to go explore the connection between the Lalan Highlands and the Dragon Isle.

The Blood Wolf squad had originally planned to take this noble young master on a casual stroll along the edge of the basin, letting him witness the dangers nearby. A sheltered young master like this would naturally be scared out of his wits and scurry back to the safety of the main city, never daring to daydream about becoming a hero again. According to the Adventurers’ Guild’s rules, if the employer terminated the commission, they had to pay the full commission fee.

What an easy task — just a stroll along the basin’s edge, no need to face overly powerful magical beasts, and then they could go back and enjoy life with the enormous commission fee. But the entire Blood Wolf squad had underestimated just how difficult this employer was to deal with.

Folks, listen to some of the demands he made.

“I want dragon hawk wings for dinner tonight.”

Dragon hawks! Those were dragon hawks! Did this young master think they were roasted turkey wings? Dragon hawks were among the most dangerous flying magical beasts, their strength nearly rivaling that of griffins, and they were social creatures. Attack one, and the entire flock would swarm out to hunt down the provocator until they were killed. Eira, the gentlest priest on the squad, had explained this to the employer exactly so. But how did the young master respond?

“Then just hunt the whole flock. It’s fine, I can eat it all.”

Eira’s expression had twisted right then and there. Even this famously good-natured priest of Light had been choked half to death by the young master’s audacity.

He was the employer who had paid them gold. A great deal of gold. This was the sentence every member of the Blood Wolf squad had most frequently reminded themselves of in recent days.

After stuffing the storage rings full, Reid and Pol returned to camp.

Seeing the two return, Ionas stood up with great expectation: “Have you hunted my dragon hawk wings?”

“I’m truly sorry, we searched the surrounding area but found no trace of dragon hawks,” Pol said. “However, Reid and I did hunt back many delicious magical beasts.”

Reid flashed the storage ring on his finger: “Yes, this is filled with game, for you to pick from at your leisure.”

Ionas nodded loftily: “Then let’s have a look.”

After reviewing the pile of magical beast carcasses dumped from the storage ring, Ionas wore a look of disgust: “No dragon hawks is one thing, but this whole storage ring full of food is just this much?”

We’re sorry, our squad is simply too poor to afford a bigger storage ring. Did this young master even know how expensive storage rings were? Only adventurer squads with some fame, like theirs, could afford one. Reid and Pol’s expressions twisted in unison.

Lu Heng, watching from the side, finally couldn’t stand it any longer. This dragon had spent most of the tens of thousands of years of his existence sleeping, and had absolutely no proper understanding of the outside world. His assessment of strength was always based on the dragons around him — that was why he thought hunting a flock of dragon hawks would be a piece of cake. If this went on, the Blood Wolf squad members were probably going to cough blood from his exasperation.

“Ionas, those few magical beasts have tender meat — they’ll taste quite good roasted.”

Pol saw the apprentice priest, who had been keeping half his face hidden under his hood, walk over and apparently say something in a low voice. Then the notoriously difficult young master’s expression softened instantly, and he obediently sat to the side without further complaints.

Pol had come to a realization — this impossible Ionas was only as docile as a child in front of that apprentice priest. Could that priest be his godfather? One had to remember that priests who cultivated the power of sacred light always had ageless appearances. Perhaps this youth who looked twenty-something was actually quite old.

In a sense, the young ranger’s guess wasn’t entirely wrong.

Pol and Reid worked swiftly, processing the game and setting up a fire pit to prepare dinner. But then they saw Billy from their squad, staggering out from behind the trees with another unconscious teammate slung over his back.

Reid’s face changed drastically. He dropped the roasting rack and rushed forward: “What happened?!”

Billy was gasping for breath, barely able to speak between pants: “We… we ran into a wyvern! Edi held it off, and that’s how we managed to get away.”

Edi was a mage — the strongest member of their squad. But even against a wyvern, even the lowest grade of wyvern, it was extremely dangerous. Reid and Pol grabbed their weapons, confirmed the direction, and were about to rush to assist, when they saw space suddenly warp before their eyes. Everyone knew at a glance it was teleportation magic — a scroll Edi’s mentor had given him for emergency escape. For him to use it now meant he was facing a life-threatening crisis.

A rift tore open in the air, and then a blood-soaked figure appeared in the camp. The mage, always so full of vigor and confidence, now lay unconscious on the ground. His abdomen had been torn open completely — almost certainly a direct hit from the wyvern’s claw.

“Eira! Hurry!”

No sooner had Pol spoken than Eira was already upon them. He knelt on the ground in a prayer posture. A moment later, the sacred stone atop his staff emitted a soft white light. That light slowly enveloped the wound on Edi’s abdomen, and the bleeding seemed to slow somewhat.

They had barely breathed a sigh of relief when they saw sweat beads as large as beans emerge on Eira’s forehead. Cracks appeared across the sacred stone on the staff, and finally, with a loud pop, it shattered.

Eira slumped to the ground: “I can’t do it. The wyvern’s aura is tangled in the wound — I can’t purify it. I can’t save Edi.”

“Damn it!” Pol kicked hard into the bushes beside him.

Reid, who always bickered with Edi, had an even stronger reaction. He slammed his fist into the ground, eyes bloodshot: “Edi! You motherfucker, get up!”

In this atmosphere of grief and fury, a gentle voice rang out: “Let me take a look at him.”

Reid looked up to see the priest who had been following Ionas all along. He wore a pure white priest’s robe with no insignia on the cuffs — proof that he was only an apprentice priest. The apprentice priest lowered his hood, revealing a rather ordinary face.

Even Eira had said Edi’s injuries couldn’t be saved. Reid should have furiously rebuked this oblivious apprentice priest. But when Reid looked into those eyes that seemed to encompass all things, a surge of conviction rose in his heart — he somehow believed this person could truly save Edi.

Reid nodded, stepped aside, and let himself be pulled free from the grip of grief and anger.

Eira sat dazed to the side, watching as the apprentice priest didn’t even assume a prayer posture — he simply flicked his finger lightly. A small cluster of white light fell from his fingertip onto Edi’s wound. To the naked eye, the wound began to writhe as it healed. Moments later, it had returned to smooth skin, leaving only a pinkish scar to mark where several hideous wounds had once been.