Chapter 32
Holy Relic (2)
Johan’s party returned to the territory shortly before sunrise. It was still dim outside in the predawn gloom, so Johan had yet to return to human form.
He was still a demon.
Since he couldn’t enter the castle looking like this, the group decided to wait at the village mill until morning.
Sitting in a corner of the mill, Johan took out the Great Saint’s eye.
It was an eyeball-shaped model encased in gold. The supreme holy relic gleamed atop his pitch-black palm.
The reward far outweighs what I spent.
He had expended the Polymorph Slime, the jar that had contained the sealed Apostle, Archwitch Rachel’s treasure chest, and several lesser artifacts. Yet the prize he had obtained was none other than the Great Saint’s eye.
The profit vastly exceeded the cost.
My relationship with Beris has become a little troublesome, but that couldn’t be helped. Obtaining something this valuable was bound to come with a price.
The Apostle Beris had displayed his hatred for Johan by engraving contract magic into the world itself.
Someday, that would surely bring about a major crisis.
It was an enormous risk, but the reward was more than worth it.
Against humans, the Great Saint’s eye was a peerless treasure.
Merely meeting its gaze inspired goodwill in others, which could further develop into respect and reverence. Its power was perfectly suited to the chief deity of a religion.
Through this eye, Great Saint Margiel had effortlessly reigned above the masses.
Its possible applications are endless.
While Johan was lost in thought, Ilea spoke.
“The young master will be delighted.”
Johan’s red eyes shifted toward her.
“Why?”
“Because he’ll regain his sight.”
Johan looked back at the golden model. When he offered no response, Ilea asked,
“Do you perhaps want it for yourself?”
“Want it for myself? You seem to be misunderstanding something.”
“Pardon?”
“This eye never belonged to Raguel in the first place.”
Johan had never said he would give the Great Saint’s eye to Raguel.
He had merely mentioned that the fragment of the corpse inside the coffin was an eye.
Ilea let out a hollow laugh.
“It seems I jumped to conclusions.”
“Do you feel deceived?”
“Not at all. If anything, I’m pleased. It’s a first-class holy relic. Using it merely to restore someone’s sight would be a waste. I’m sure you can put it to far better use, Johan. However...”
She paused before continuing.
“What do you intend to do about your contract with Young Master Raguel?”
Johan had promised to restore Raguel’s sight. The penalty for failing to fulfill the contract was death.
Johan’s lips curled upward.
“We never established a specific deadline.”
Gaf, who had been listening, slammed his fist against a pile of straw.
“You shameless scoundrel!”
Ilea covered her mouth and feigned surprise.
“You truly are a demon to the bone.”
Johan shrugged.
“I intend to keep my promise someday. It simply won’t be today.”
“Another opportunity may not come easily. Transplanting or regenerating living tissue falls within the realm of miracles.”
“That’s why you’ll help me. Aren’t we bound by a shared fate?”
“Johan, you really do whatever you please.”
Gaf snorted.
“He’s a selfish bastard.”
Johan smirked.
“That’s a compliment to a demon.”
Ilea shook her head as though he were beyond help, then changed the subject.
“May I ask you one question?”
“Ask as many as you like.”
“The Great Saint’s eye—what ability does it possess, exactly?”
Even a witch had much she did not know because of her youth.
Even Ilea couldn’t know the Church’s most closely guarded secrets.
Johan answered,
“It earns goodwill from humans who meet its gaze and hatred from demons.”
That was the simplest way to summarize its power.
The moment she heard Johan’s explanation, Ilea’s eyes widened.
“If you corrupted it into an abomination, you could bring countless demons beneath your feet.”
A corrupted holy relic possessed abilities contrary to its original nature.
Just as Kazan’s Ring, which had once warded off demonic energy, had been corrupted into an abomination that resisted holy power, the Great Saint’s eye would become an unholy object that earned the goodwill of demons and the hatred of humans.
If used properly, countless demons would come to follow Johan.
“Correct. That would be quite a useful application.”
“Then have you decided? Are you going to corrupt it?”
Johan shook his head.
“No. I intend to leave it as a holy relic.”
A shadow briefly crossed Ilea’s face.
That must be disappointing for her.
Johan’s decision did not particularly align with Ilea’s ultimate objective.
She would prefer to corrupt the Great Saint’s eye and place countless demons beneath Johan’s feet.
“May I ask why?”
“First, I intend to transplant the Great Saint’s eye into my human body.”
At present, Johan’s human form was far too weak. Rather than further strengthening his demon form, which had already undergone explosive growth, investing in his human form would greatly improve his chances of survival.
No matter how powerful his demonic side became, it would mean nothing if he died while human.
But transplanting the corrupted Great Saint’s eye into his human body would be absurdly contradictory.
A human who was despised by humanity yet loved by demons could never survive in this world.
“And your second reason?”
“It is a practical one. There’s no way to obtain enough sacrifices.”
Corrupting a first-class holy relic would require an enormous number of lives.
A single prostitute named Betra had been enough for Kazan’s Ring, but the sacrifices required by the Great Saint’s eye would be too numerous to count.
Even offering the entire population of a city might not suffice.
“What about waiting until another day? You could store the holy relic for now, then obtain the necessary sacrifices when an opportunity arises.”
Johan shook his head.
“I cannot afford to leave power unused when it is available to me now. I must grow by any means necessary. Therefore, I reject that option.”
It was a matter of opportunity cost. Rather than dragging things out, it would be more efficient to use the Great Saint’s eye immediately and exert influence over human society.
Ilea’s expression grew cold. She slowly opened her mouth.
“...What if I could procure all the sacrifices right now?”
Johan furrowed his brow.
“I don’t understand why you would go that far.”
“Because its potential would undeniably be greater as an abomination.”
Corrupt the Great Saint’s eye, transplant it into Johan’s demonic body, and use it to bring all demons under his sway.
It was certainly an enticing prospect.
But it disturbed him. Could he truly remain sane after sacrificing so many lives?
Impossible.
He would either be crushed by guilt and become a broken shell, or turn into a demon in every sense of the word.
Simply put, he did not want to cross that line.
Perhaps that was merely the weakness of a human being.
Johan spoke.
“That conflicts with my first reason. As I said, I must strengthen my human form as well. I appreciate the offer, but I refuse.”
Ilea smiled again. As usual, she appeared to be yielding first.
“I was merely curious about what choice you would make. I understand your intentions now, so I won’t interfere any further.”
Johan felt inexplicably uneasy.
She was curious about my choice?
Ilea turned her gaze toward the window.
“The sun is rising at just the right time. We can perform the transplant now.”
Faint dawn light was seeping through the window.
At the same time, Johan’s appearance gradually began to change.
He was returning to the form of an ordinary boy.
A somewhat youthful voice emerged from his lips.
“Gaf, smash the golden model.”
“...What are you talking about?”
“Exactly what I said. Strike it with a rock or do whatever else you need to do. Just break it.”
Gaf accepted the Great Saint’s eye and released a deep sigh.
“This is enough to drive a man insane.”
After steadying his breathing, he drew his iron sword.
With all his strength, he began striking the model with the sword’s hilt.
Crack! Crunch!
Fractures spread across the model. Red liquid began seeping through the cracks.
“That’s enough. Stop there.”
Johan took the eye back and raised it above his head. Then he tilted his head backward.
Drip. Drip.
Drops of crimson blood fell into Johan’s left eye.
It was the Great Saint’s holy blood.
Several days passed.
Johan stood motionless before the full-length mirror installed in a corner of his room.
Reflected in it was a black-haired, black-eyed boy. His human mother must have been quite beautiful, as his features were remarkably distinct and harmonious.
He was likely to grow into a handsome man.
But that wasn’t important right now.
Johan’s attention was fixed on his left eye.
Neither its color nor its appearance has changed.
Despite absorbing the holy blood, the eye looked exactly the same.
His vision hadn’t changed either.
Only one thing was different.
The way others treated him.
Johan glanced to the side.
The maid who had brought his tea flinched and lowered her head.
“Um... Well...”
“What do you think when you look at me?”
Caught off guard by the sudden question, the maid merely opened and closed her mouth, unsure how to respond.
“You may speak honestly. Tell me what you feel.”
After hesitating for quite some time, the maid answered in a barely audible voice.
“You look impressive and dependable, and also...”
“I feel like I can trust you!”
Having blurted it out without thinking, she immediately covered her mouth.
“I-I’m sorry. It slipped out before I realized...”
“It’s fine. You may leave.”
The maid hurried out of the room, completely forgetting to hand him the teacup.
The effect is rather vague.
Impressive. Dependable. Trustworthy.
They were certainly positive feelings, but the effect fell short of what had been portrayed in the original story.
Surging respect, reason-devouring awe, admiration bordering on religious devotion—when the Pope used the Great Saint’s eye in the original story, it had unquestionably provoked such dramatic reactions.
The difference was probably due to the absence of holy power.
Do I need to acquire divinity?
As a rule, holy relics displayed their true power through divinity.
The Great Saint’s eye was no exception.
If Johan became capable of wielding divine power, he would likely be able to activate or deactivate the eye’s ability at will rather than having it remain constantly active.
In many respects, acquiring divinity would be more efficient.
As he considered how he might accomplish that, a knock came from the door.
“It’s Ilea. May I come in for a moment?”
“Come in.”
When she entered, Johan stared intently at her.
Ilea didn’t avert her gaze.
The two stared at each other for quite some time, as though engaged in a contest.
Suddenly, Ilea let out a quiet laugh.
“Young Master, are you trying to charm me?”
Johan clicked his tongue.
“As expected, it doesn’t seem to work on you.”
“That’s because I’m not human.”
She was a witch.
“I expected as much.”
Smiling with her eyes, Ilea approached Johan.
“Are you disappointed?”
Johan’s expression stiffened slightly.
Ilea gently linked her arm through his.
“Don’t worry. You’ve already earned a great deal of my affection, Young Master.”
After clearing his throat, Johan pressed his index finger against Ilea’s forehead and pushed her away.
“Enough nonsense. Tell me why you’re here.”
As though she had only just remembered, Ilea lightly clapped her hands.
“Shaperia has come to see you. She’s with the lord right now.”
A puzzled look crossed Johan’s face.
Why is she here?
Had she been expelled from the Church after losing all her holy power and come searching for somewhere to stay? She didn’t seem brazen enough to do that.
He couldn’t determine her intentions.
“I’ll have to meet her myself.”
Johan immediately headed for the lord’s reception room.
***
Shaperia stole several glances at Baron Grian’s expression.
There was something deeply timid about the Baron. Just as during her previous pilgrimage, he constantly seemed gripped by anxiety.
He displayed none of the authority expected of a regional lord.
If anything, his young son appeared to hold the true power.
Is that even possible?
A boy barely ten years old being the real authority within a noble family was difficult to imagine.
It must be my imagination. I should speak with the Baron.
Shaperia slowly opened her mouth.
“My lord, I don’t know whether you’ve heard, but the pilgrimage procession was attacked.”
The Baron’s eyes widened. He truly appeared to know nothing about it.
“What do you mean...?”
“The Church is currently conducting an investigation.”
“H-has the culprit been identified?”
“We haven’t found a single clue. However, there was one peculiar detail.”
“What was it?”
Shaperia took a sip of tea, then slowly surveyed her surroundings.
“I don’t see your knight.”
“My knight...?”
“Isn’t there a blond-haired knight serving this territory?”
She was referring to Rael.
It had been a long time since the Baron had last seen him.
“There is.”
“Do you know his current whereabouts?”
“I do not. He hasn’t shown his face at all recently.”
Shaperia’s brow furrowed.
The lord doesn’t know where his own knight is?
The Baron asked,
“But why do you ask?”
At that moment, the reception-room door flew open.
Johan stepped inside.
“Sir Shaperia, it is a pleasure to see you. It has been a long—no, I suppose it hasn’t.”
Shaperia had left the territory only recently. Barely ten days had passed before their reunion.
She rose and returned his greeting.
“It is good to see you again.”
“What brings you here? You may speak with me from this point onward.”
As though he had been waiting for those words, the Baron sprang from his seat.
The action seemed natural, yet strangely unsettling.
After hesitating briefly, Shaperia spoke.
“I came here relying upon the small connection we share. If it would not be too much of an imposition, may I ask you a small favor?”
Johan couldn’t begin to guess what she might request.
For now, he decided to hear her out.
“Please, go ahead.”
She looked directly into Johan’s eyes.
“Could you allow me to stay here for a short...”
Shaperia couldn’t finish her sentence. Her gaze dropped to the floor before she even realized it.
Unfamiliar emotions were surging within her.
It was a sensation she had never experienced before.
Johan slowly approached her.
“Are you unwell?”
“Do not come any closer!”
Startled, Shaperia backed away. Her eyes trembled wildly.
Having known her from the original story, Johan found her current behavior deeply unfamiliar.
Rather than the Demon Butcher... she looks more like a girl going through puberty.
Johan felt sorry for her, yet also found the sight somewhat amusing.
“Calm down and take a seat first.”
“S-speak from where you are.”
Johan smirked.
Great Saint Margiel, I suppose you had no choice but to become a philanderer.