Chapter 5: This Can Hardly Be Called Evil, My Friend
When Bishop Atanis sensed something amiss and quickly walked from the library to the main hall, over half of the clergy in Saint Lawrence Cathedral had already fallen unconscious.
"What happened?! Could it be a cultist attack?!"
A single glance revealed only priests and fathers collapsed everywhere. Though advanced in age, the old priest's reactions remained swift. He immediately condensed a ball of holy flame in his hand, draped himself in a layer of divine protection, and prepared a Word of Death spell, ready to unleash it at any moment.
At the same time, Atanis began analyzing the countless possibilities behind this situation—perhaps cultists were planning a large-scale sacrifice in this remote northern land and were now launching a surprise attack, or perhaps an old enemy from his adventuring days had returned for revenge, or maybe a sudden violent plague had silently infected most of the knights and priests and was now manifesting. But he dismissed all these possibilities himself.
—Too absurd. With that artificial intelligence named No. 3 in place, the entire Moldavia main city was like an impenetrable fortress. Not even a fly could infiltrate it. How could cultists possibly break through her defenses without a sound? Not to mention the nonexistent enemies and the plague that had no rumors at all.
So what was really going on?
Though he thought much, in truth, only an instant had passed. Noticing a faint sound at the door, Bishop Atanis immediately raised his guard and looked up ahead.
He suddenly felt his vision darken.
As if light itself had faded, three figures stood in the corridor at the entrance of the cathedral's prayer hall. The tall man in the center instantly seized all attention. Endless shadows emanated from him as their source, covering the entire hall.
Pausing briefly, the old priest shook his head, breaking free from the illusion. Then Atanis clearly saw the figures before him. His eyes widened, and he immediately dispelled the holy flame in his hand.
"Joshua?! You're awake!"
The old priest spread his arms, stepped forward two paces, and stared at the tall man in surprise. "My child, may the gods bless you. You woke up so quickly!"
Joshua, who had also noticed Atanis, strode forward and embraced the white-haired old man. He said with a smile, "Yes, Your Grace. Thanks to you, I've awakened."
"No, I was helpless regarding your coma—truly shameful. You should thank Ying and Lin more. Those two children have been taking care of you these past few days."
They parted, and Atanis nodded with a kind smile at the somewhat embarrassed young man and woman. Then the old man looked around the hall and asked in confusion, "But what happened here, Joshua? How did they all fall unconscious?"
The old priest didn't suspect the warrior had acted. Though he had the strength, he had no reason to do such a thing—and the unconscious people bore no injuries. It was as if they had seen something terrifying and simply fainted from shock.
"...It's a long story..."
Sighing, Joshua also turned to look at the scattered clergy and said helplessly to Atanis, "Fortunately, you seem unaffected. Otherwise, we'd have a big problem. It's not convenient to talk here. Let's find a private place to discuss this in detail."
"No problem, but..."
Clapping his hands, the white-haired priest sent out a ripple of holy light, summoning a few people to handle the large number of unconscious individuals. Then he turned back to examine Joshua carefully. His gaze swept over him, and he couldn't help but frown. "Joshua, have you been cursed by something? Why do I feel a thick shadow lurking within your body?"
"That's exactly what I want to talk to you about."
Before the other church personnel arrived at the hall to deal with the unconscious ones, the group ascended the stone spiral staircase to the cathedral's second floor. Following an empty corridor, Atanis found an unused room. They took a few chairs and sat facing each other.
Atanis didn't ask Joshua and the others where they had been or what they had done before falling unconscious. The white-haired old priest didn't want to meddle in such matters. After all, knowing some things was useless and only brought trouble—this was the life experience of an elder.
What interested him now was the explanation Joshua would give.
And the warrior naturally wouldn't hide anything. He truthfully described his condition.
"Chaos Breath?"
After hearing Joshua's account, Atanis frowned. He clasped his hands together and muttered in confusion, "I know that the resentment of dead monsters clings to you. It can indeed impose a great mental burden on those who see you for the first time. But does the breath of chaos amplify this burden?"
—And amplify it to the point where even strong-willed priests and knights can't bear it? This particularly surprised the old priest.
"Indeed." Sitting on the hard wooden chair, Joshua replied, "I find it hard to understand the relationship myself, but that's how it is. Anyone who sees me for the first time is affected by the chaos breath. The resentment dwelling in me seizes their mind, causing unconsciousness—that's why those knights and priests collapsed."
"This can't continue. I need to resolve it quickly." He added another sentence.
"Indeed."
Taking a deep breath, Bishop Atanis nodded in strong agreement. "If everything is as you say, then it must be resolved quickly. You're different from others—you're the lord of this territory. You often need to preside over festivals, celebrations, or sacrificial rites. At those times..."
He briefly imagined it: when Joshua appeared, the masses who saw him would faint en masse. This would undoubtedly cause panic. Even the relatively strong-willed clergy had collapsed without resistance. Ordinary citizens might suffer heart attacks, and that wouldn't be surprising.
"Does the Church of the Seven Gods have any solution to this problem?"
Joshua asked directly. He seemed to have anticipated the future situation and was eager to resolve it. "Even if it can't be completely removed, it should at least be concealable."
"Complete removal is impossible."
The old bishop shook his head decisively, but his voice carried a hint of hesitation. He seemed uncertain, tapping his fingers on the armrest. "As I said before, the resentment of life at the moment of death is very hard to eliminate. For mild cases, I could try. But for someone at your level, unless His Holiness the Pope personally intervenes or a god bestows a blessing, it's basically impossible to erase. And now with the chaos breath entwined, it's even more complicated than before."
Pausing briefly, Atanis seemed to make up his mind. He looked up and met Joshua's eyes directly. "However, since this mental pressure requires one condition—looking directly at you—there's still a glimmer of hope."
"What do you mean?"
Sensing the dawn of a solution, Joshua immediately pressed further. At the same time, he thought of a possibility.
"It means that if you cover your face, or use some spell to hide your true appearance, this oppressive force will be greatly reduced."
Briefly explaining several possible solutions, Bishop Atanis seemed to have thought it through carefully. "A dragon's draconic might can also cause widespread panic. But when they take human form and come to live among humans, the draconic might doesn't work. That's because ordinary people don't see their true form. Your situation is similar to a dragon's, and following this logic, the solution is the same."
"Wear a helmet, or a mask, or use some illusion to change your appearance—even making it look exactly the same is fine. As long as people can't see your true face, this problem can be temporarily resolved."
Having said this, the old priest stood up. A subtle smile played at the corners of his mouth as he looked at Joshua, who also rose. Atanis said in a low voice, "Now, I happen to have a magical item—or rather, a divine artifact—that meets the requirements."
What a coincidence? The warrior was a bit surprised. But after thinking briefly, he didn't find it strange. Enchanted equipment capable of creating illusions was among the easiest magical items to make. Plus, any organization occasionally needed to do things requiring concealment, so it wasn't surprising that the church had magical equipment for altering appearances.
In fact, if Joshua wanted to buy some, his status as Lord of Moldavia would allow him to easily obtain various high-quality illusion-enchanted equipment. But since the old bishop had one, he didn't need to go through the trouble of collecting it.
"Don't be so impatient."
The subtle smile on his face widened, as if thinking of something good. The wrinkles on the white-haired old priest's face seemed to soften. He said with a smile, "Before helping you solve your problem, Joshua, you need to help me with something too—in a way, it's also helping yourself."
"As long as I can do it, it's no problem."
Joshua agreed without hesitation. Bishop Atanis had helped him greatly and always watched over the main city's safety. As one of the leaders of the Seven Gods Church in the northern lands, he didn't compete for power. If the old priest truly had trouble, the warrior would certainly help.
"Perhaps you've already heard from No. 3."
Having received Joshua's promise, the old priest's smile grew even wider. "Recently, cultists and demon worshippers have frequently infiltrated the city, attempting sabotage. But thanks to Miss No. 3, they've all been caught and brought to me."
Joshua nodded, indicating he knew about this. Bishop Atanis continued, "These cultists sneaking into the city certainly mean no good. More keep pouring in from outside. But we still don't know their purpose. This puts the church and the city guard in a passive position. We don't even know which areas to prioritize protecting."
"Couldn't you interrogate them?"
Frowning, Joshua was a bit puzzled. "Though saying this might damage the church's reputation, as far as I know—"
"—The church shows no mercy or tolerance to cultists. We use torture, even divine spells, to torment them until they reveal everything we want to know."
Interrupting the warrior, Bishop Atanis shook his head. A hint of regret showed on his aged face. "But unfortunately, these cultists have unexpectedly strong wills. Even the psychological state of several knights who performed the executions has been affected, yet they still won't talk. Out of twenty-seven cultists and demon worshippers, only nineteen remain, and we still know nothing about their purpose."
"...I understand."
Roughly grasping the old bishop's meaning, Joshua guessed what he wanted him to do. Suppressing a smile, he shook his head and said with emotion, "Your Grace, you really are..."
"To be precise, this can hardly be called evil."
Atanis also smiled, looking very pleased. "Letting a territorial lord meet the cultists who plan to destroy his land—can that be considered evil? No matter how you look at it, it's the most normal thing!"
The two exchanged glances, then both burst into laughter. The speechless young man and woman could only silently look at each other, then together showed helpless smiles.