“No need to be nervous. As long as your friend named Judy doesn't show up here, he won't go crazy.”
Just as Lynch was looking completely bewildered, Mrs. Nightingale whispered an explanation beside him:
“That is the archbishop of Phil, the Lord of Crafts, who came all the way from the Menason Republic to the west. They are sworn enemies with the Lady of Fire. Phil was originally the Lord of Fire and Crafts, holding two distinct divine authorities, making him one of the strongest deities. But after his fall, Cthugha usurped a piece of his authority over fire. Since then, he was left with only the single authority of crafts, and his strength plummeted. That's why Phil's followers harbor deep enmity toward anyone connected to Cthugha. Still, given your standing, no matter what they think in their hearts, at most they'll throw a few words your way while still maintaining proper etiquette.”
Religious disputes are such a pain. Could I take three punches from that guy?
Looking at the man's bulging muscles, Lynch mentally pictured him uprooting a willow tree with his bare hands and quickly shifted his gaze to someone else.
“That is the blue-robed Cardinal of Shilin, the Lord of the Oceans. Cthulhu, the Lord of R'lyeh, actually doesn't have a direct feud with Shilin—it just sleeps in the deep sea, after all. However, most of its Deep One vassals operate as pirates, frequently attacking ships at sea. Many dangerous sea beasts were also birthed under the influence of Cthulhu's dreams, and countlessly many sailors have perished in their jaws. Since most sailors worship Shilin... well, you get the picture. But how do you have ties to Cthulhu anyway? You don't actually know any Deep Ones, do you?”
“Coincidence. Total coincidence.”
Lynch touched the side of his face that had been kissed by the young Deep One and gave an awkward laugh. I'm certainly not going to mention that I also bear marks from Bastet, the cat god, and Hastur, the King in Yellow. Oh right, and there's a hound chasing me down, too. If you add the gaze of the Swelling Daughter, I'd have enough for a basketball team with substitutes. What a damn circus.
Lynch sighed, cleared his stray thoughts, and nodded to the two emotionless high clergy. “I am a follower of the crimson moon—nothing more.”
The two stared at Lynch for a moment before giving a gentle nod. The lady serving the ocean said softly, “That is for the best. The conflicts between supreme wills are intricate and complex. As uninvolved mortals, remaining a bystander is the wisest choice. Thank you for everything you have done for this world, Sir Levive. May the blessing of the tides be with you always, and may the Lord be with us.”
The two representatives for Selo, the Lord of Dust and Wind, and Gaia, the Lord of the Earth, had already met Lynch at the docks earlier; they proactively offered him smiling nods of greeting. The representative of Franda, the Lord of Plants, was also a cardinal. Her pinned-up hair was stuck full of wild, messy flowers, but she looked only in her early twenties, radiant with youthful energy and quite adorable.
However, the moment Lynch noticed her standing right next to the Pope of Mica, the Joyful Maiden, he immediately slapped a “Keep Out” label on her. It'd be best if I never deal with her for the rest of my life.
“That won't do,” a youthful voice chimed in from beside him, brimming with vitality and clear as a mountain spring. “You killed one of our Lord's children, so I won't let you off the hook.”
Fuck, who's that? Scared the hell out of me.
Lynch turned around, only to find a potted plant nearby talking to him, its branches actually akimbo in a hands-on-hips stance.
What on earth is this? And what kind of crazy talk is that?
Yet it felt oddly familiar. Lynch quickly recalled his experience back in Glaaki's tomb.
Oh, she must mean that explorer named Karl. So he was a follower of Miranda.
Wait, I didn't kill him! Why are you blaming me?
“Because you're the easiest target! What, do you expect me to go bother a dead guy? But if you want me to forget about revenge, it's simple: you have to agree to go shopping around Rhine City with Sister Serina and me, pay for our purchases, and carry our bags.”
Don't talk nonsense. Pay for your shopping? You might as well just kill me! Wait, I was just exaggerating, you don't have to take it literally. Huh? Wait a minute, I didn't say a single word out loud!
“Everything you're thinking is exposed by your subtle fidgeting and micro-expressions! Tee-hee! We plants can't speak, after all, so we can only study humans this way!”
???
This person is a plant? Lynch subconsciously looked over at the young lady.
“You're looking in the wrong direction! This potted plant is my real body, and that girl over there is just a puppet. Everyone here knows that.”
For real? There's such a thing?
Lynch was completely baffled, turning back toward the potted plant in utter disbelief.
“Hahaha! Of course it's fake! Your expression is so cute!”
Amid crisp laughter, a cardinal and a pope clung to each other in fits of giggles, making Lynch's eyes twitch uncontrollably. Beside him, Mrs. Nightingale could only sigh and pat Lynch's shoulder reassuringly.
Damn it. Right then and there, Lynch swore a grand vow: tomorrow he would go full vegetarian, eating only greens for three days straight as revenge.
The representative for Simon, the Lord of the Sky and Lightning, was a fat man who weighed at least two hundred kilograms—how he was connected to the sky was anyone's guess. Meanwhile, the substitute bishop for the Lord of War was the most peculiar: dark-skinned, powerfully built, a native from the Old Continent.
Mrs. Nightingale guided Lynch in a large loop, introducing him to all these influential figures one by one. Whether out of respect for the Saint or not, without exception, every single one of them showed Lynch plenty of warmth and validation, leaving him quite touched.
What a lovely old lady.
Having introduced Lynch to every church, she waited until he finished exchanging pleasantries and handing out his business cards before pulling him into a secluded corner out of everyone's line of sight, pointing at the Torch of Light.
Since he had already weighed the options repeatedly and decided to trust the Church of the Black Night and the Church of Suffering, Lynch did not hide anything. He recounted his concerns about the Shadow Alliance and everything that had transpired today to the old lady in full detail.
“We can't let them cause panic through the plague, or they really might artificially trigger a major catastrophe. So if something goes wrong with the medicine, or if we fail to prevent the panic, this will be our last line of defense. I know it's dangerous, but sometimes for a greater goal, taking a bit of risk is worth it.”
“Have you reported this to the Watchers? High-risk items like this must be registered, and you aren't allowed to keep them privately, regardless of the reason.”
Huh? There's such a rule? Natalie didn't mention it at all.
When he had expressed his concerns about the Watchers' stance and his suspicions of internal moles, wishing to keep the Watchers out of it, Officer Natalie had only stayed silent for a few seconds before agreeing. He hadn't realized the Watchers had such a strict regulation.
Lynch pressed his lips together and sighed softly, a warmth blooming in his heart.
“I understand.” Seeing Lynch's expression, the old lady immediately understood what had happened. She smiled and said, “Leave this matter to me. I'll explain it to Victor. After all, this is a sacred memory of our church's forebears; I want to keep it by my side to study for a while. I doubt Victor and his people would dare refuse. Still, keeping it safe will be tricky... How about storing it at the church?”
“The medicine itself is already kept at the church. It's better not to put all our eggs in one basket,” Lynch replied smoothly with a tactful excuse he had prepared beforehand. “I think I'll spend the night at the Black Night Cathedral. I haven't officially paid my respects to the Lady of the Night yet.”
Watching Lynch turn around and walk toward Trinlais, Mrs. Nightingale paused for a moment before shaking her head with a laugh.
This boy, dragging someone else into the water again.
“Wait, Archbishop, wait!” Seeing Trinlais about to leave surrounded by church knights, Lynch quickly called out to him. “I came today specifically to find you! You almost slipped away from me.”
The old gentleman paused with great poise, raising an eyebrow. “Hmm?”
“I didn't run, I didn't run,” Lynch chuckled apologetically. “Give me a lift, would you? I want to pay an audience to Her Divinity tonight, and I have a few things to discuss. You might be getting home a bit late tonight.”
The archbishop frowned slightly. “Why go so late at night?”
“To visit the Lady of the Black Night, of course one must drop by in the middle of the night.”
“Nonsense.” The old archbishop glared at him. “Let's go, then.”
“There are a few more people in the lobby... Hm?”
As the two chatted while walking out of the conference hall, just moments after stepping through the doors, a strange noise suddenly reached Lynch's ears from amidst the crowd.
Faint, yet distinct.
Like the flapping of insect wings.
“Buzz, buzz, buzz...”
Rate on N.U.
