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"It's really gone."
As his words fell, the bald North Saint, Os, quietly looked at Allen's face.
It seemed like he looked for a long time, and yet, it was just an instant.
He spoke naturally.
"I see. In that case, we should definitely leave some people to be your guards! You see, both your mana and your stamina need a safe environment to recover. This way..."
"Are you acting up again?"
The smile on Os's face froze for an instant, but he quickly returned to normal. He looked up at Allen, who had interrupted him.
The latter met his gaze, narrowing his eyes.
The former put on a smile. "What are you talking about? I don't understand."
"You really don't understand?"
Os was about to say something else, but his entire body stiffened.
Allen, in an intimate and unguarded posture, slowly leaned forward.
In Os's constricted pupils, he came closer and closer.
During this process, Os forcefully suppressed his urge to draw his sword several times. He just stared with wide eyes as Allen approached, continuously lowering his head. Finally, he looked at his own waist.
The hand that had just been shimmering with golden arcs of electricity was now pressing on the end of his sword hilt.
Click, a soft sound of the blade sheathing was heard.
—Os's blade never fully sheathed. It always remained half an inch out. And during their conversation, he had continuously repeated the action of drawing and sheathing his sword with his hand, using his words as an excuse, to make his act of 'placing his hand on the hilt' seem less abrupt and more reasonable.
And the 'powerful adventurer' in front of him, who had never made him let down his guard and whose background he still couldn't figure out, took the opportunity to lean in and whisper in his ear.
"You, the Maverick Faction of the North God Style, are natural skeptics. You clearly saw me use battle aura, and you still thought I was a swordsman. But when I cast a spell, you doubted your own judgment, and thought my battle aura was just a magical illusion."
"So, here's a question."
"Are you hoping that I'm a mage, easy to control like Merna?"
"Or are you hoping that I'm a Milis believer who knows a little swordsmanship, has a decent Divine Strike Art, and is easy to manipulate like Klem?"
"Or, am I a spellsword who is completely out of your control, making you uneasy, yet utterly helpless?"
"Choose one."
"Your choice will determine what I do next."
After saying this, Allen took a step back and looked at Os.
The other adventurers hadn't heard what the two men had whispered. They were still waiting for Os to give the order to go fishing.
But the smile on Os's face had disappeared. He tilted his head, glanced at the clouds still surrounding the island, was silent for a moment, then spoke hoarsely.
This time, there was no more probing or feigned flattery.
"You're not here for that monstrous thing, are you? Are you truly a victim of a shipwreck?"
Allen raised an eyebrow. The image of the 'Main Island' in the storm entered his mind. He asked in return, "That monstrous thing?"
Os looked at Allen's waist, which had nothing on it. He looked up, staring directly into Allen's eyes.
"The core of the 'Archipelago' dungeon cluster, the S-rank dungeon, 'Main Island.' The Lord-rank ghost at the bottom level, the 'Ghost Blade Secret Sword'—Idazlidd."
Clatter, the fishing net fell to the ground. The adventurers beside them were all pale, staring blankly at Allen.
And the others' reactions weren't much different from theirs.
Whispers, gradually growing noisy and mixing together like a swarm of bees, continuously pierced Allen's ears.
The latter simply listened quietly, sorting out the environmental information that Os's inconsistent actions and words had provided.
"The Ghost Swordsman Idazlidd..." "Aren't we supposed to fix the boat and return to the mainland?"
"Is the master really going to that ghostly place? What do we do..." "I heard there's a very terrifying ghost."
"But they say if you defeat it, you'll not only get a magic stone, but you'll also get his secret sword? And become obscenely rich?"
"How do you know?" "The King of the Dragon Kingdom is very interested in that secret sword and has offered a bounty of 6,000 gold coins. That's six thousand..."
"Six thousand! Why don't you go yourself! What are you doing clearing out Specters on this island! The master saved us from dying here!" "Can't I just talk about it?!"
"For a swordsman, a legendary sword like that is worth more than any amount of money. You can't exchange it for money..."
"Exchange it for money? Do you have a life to take it with you?!"
"He's a legendary swordmaster. Even as a ghost, he's probably hard to deal with..."
"And this dungeon has changed. It's likely a chain reaction caused by his rage. A Lord-rank monster at the bottom of an S-rank dungeon would have a certain ability to change the dungeon's structure..."
"So the master is here for that secret sword. Should we go with him?"
"Are you crazy?!"
"Then what... what do we do?"
Allen listened to the information. He felt that the name Idazlidd sounded familiar, but he couldn't remember where he had heard it.
"Idazlidd?"
"Yes!! The 'Ghost Blade Secret Sword' Idazlidd! The legendary swordsman of the long-eared race, Idazlidd!"
Leuf, who had come over, ignored the cold glare from Os. He looked excited. Seeing Allen's interest, he eagerly spoke.
"During the First Human-Demon War! He single-handedly killed over a thousand demons! He finally had a decisive battle with Necross, one of the five Great Demon Kings! He suppressed him for an entire month, killing him countless times, but was ultimately exhausted and died from the shameless immortality of the demons!"
"Legend has it that his secret sword was forged from the horns of the Bone Dragon Sea King. It has the ability to cut through all magic, splitting the sea, breaking waves, and is indestructible!"
"With your ability, you can definitely break into the 'Main Island' dungeon and retrieve that sword! With your Water God Style mastery, how can you not have a good sword?"
Os suddenly drew his sword and roared at Leuf. "Nonsense! It's all a trick! Shut up!"
Leuf completely ignored Os and grabbed Allen's hand.
"With your ability, you can definitely kill that monstrous thing! And take the secret sword!"
Os swung his sword at his neck, but as soon as the blade was an inch out, it slid back into the sheath with a clang.
Allen casually patted Os's sword hilt back into the sheath.
"Catch fish, eat, repair the boat. The sooner, the better."
"Time is limited. We're not going to raid the dungeon. We're returning to the mainland."
A moment of silence fell over the area, then a deafening cheer erupted. The adventurers all ran back to the hilltop to get their tools and then ran down the mountain.
Os, however, shifted his gaze from the sword at his waist and looked at Allen with a deep look. He saw that Allen was indeed going back to the mainland, and not, as he had thought, a spellsword who was 'looking for a sword' because he lacked a good one.
He let out a long sigh of relief and bowed his head. "Yes."
He also ignored Leuf's livid face, turned, and walked down the mountain.
Allen held out his hand, which had been behind him and was now trembling, towards Merna, who had been dazed by Allen's words. "It's your turn."
Merna froze.
"Wh-what?"
"The exchange." Allen twisted and walked towards the wooden hut. "I'll get some food first. You get ready. The lowest-level barrier spell is enough. You said you could maintain it for about a minute, right? We don't need a minute, ten seconds is enough."
Merna blinked. Her expression was a little confused, but her body honestly followed Allen.
"You... you don't know the barrier spell?"
"No, so I'd like to see it."
"I'm... I'm sorry."
"Hmm?"
"Just now... I thought you knew the barrier spell, so..."
Leuf ran over and interrupted her.
"Mr. Allen! Please believe me! What I said..."
Allen stopped and turned to look at Leuf.
"What do you want to do on the 'Main Island'?"
Leuf stopped, staring fixedly at Allen.
"You take the sword! I get revenge!"
"Revenge?"
"It killed my adventurer companions! I want revenge! I will personally kill that monstrous thing! I want to kill it! The sword is yours! The magic stones are also yours! I only want revenge!!"
Allen tilted his head, looking at him.
"Revenge is your business. Whether I take the sword or not is my business. They have no connection."
"You want revenge."
"Go do it yourself."
After saying this, Allen walked forward, the wooden hut was right in front of him. He stepped over Klem, who was on the ground muttering, "This is all a dream, this is all a dream!"
"Stop sleeping. It's time to eat."
Klem suddenly got up and hugged Allen's leg.
"I know! You're a Holy Son! You're a Holy Son of Milis! I remember! The Pope of the Milis Church has a grandson who was raised in an orphanage to avoid power struggles. The Pope recently welcomed him back to the church and helped him become a Holy Son! But he resisted!"
"You're that Holy Son! The Pope's grandson! That's why you have such a high aptitude for the Divine Strike Art! It's you!"
Allen looked down at him.
"Cliff?"
Klem's face showed confusion.
"My name is Klem."
"Okay, Klem. Your notebook has been requisitioned. You can go ask the Pope for a new one."
Klem said, "Huh?"
"That's not right, is it? I shouldn't accept something without earning it..."
"It's right. It's very right. But before that, you should be worried about your companion. His mental state looks even worse than yours."
"Ah! You're right!"
Klem had just stood up, about to walk towards Leuf, who was on the ground, biting his lip in silence, but he froze. He turned to look at Allen.
"...My mental state is... worse than mine?"
Allen, in one crouch, had already entered the wooden hut.
In the distance, Os, who had been walking towards the bottom of the mountain like a tower, had stopped at some point.
He turned to look at Leuf, a mocking smile on his face.
"Revenge? Foolish."
"Who do you think you are? A mere Advanced Swordsman, spouting nonsense. How dare you talk about revenge?"
"What a lunatic."
Inside the wooden hut.
Allen quietly ate the rest of his bread, casually flipping through Leuf's notebook. Merna, who was sitting opposite him, was a little nervous. She looked left and right at the empty room, and reached out to smooth her golden hair.
"You... you asked what a Holy Son is? You're really not a Holy Son? Your Divine Strike Art... it's too terrifying. I've never seen a genius like you."
Allen replied casually.
"There are many geniuses. It only proves that your temple is not very good. As for the Holy Son, I've never heard of a Holy Son or a Holy Maiden. I've only heard of a Divine Child. Is there a connection between them?"
Merna looked up at Allen's white hair. When Allen looked up at her, she quickly averted her gaze.
"A Holy Son or a Holy Maiden is a Divine Child candidate."
Allen nodded, chewing on his bread. But he suddenly stopped flipping through the notebook.
"A Divine Child candidate? Isn't the Divine Child an innate ability? How can there be a candidate?"
Merna smoothed the wrinkled, blood-stained clothes on her leg. The wrinkles were smoothed, but the bloodstains could not be. She tucked her legs under the table.
"A Holy Son or a Holy Maiden can become a Divine Child through 'baptism' at the temple's central tribunal. Indeed, some children of heaven are born with the ability of a Divine Child, but some can obtain the ability of a Divine Child through 'baptism.'"
"Go on."
"...Go on... Right. I heard that the success rate of 'baptism' is not very high. There's a risk of becoming an idiot, and the risk is quite high."
"Go on."
"But the church promises that, regardless of success, the families of Holy Sons and Holy Maidens will be unconditionally promoted one rank in the priesthood. That's why many priests still want to train their children to be Holy Sons and Holy Maidens."
"Does no one resist?"
Merna looked at Allen with confusion.
"Resist? Why would they resist? This is a blessing from God."
Allen looked at Merna, whose hair and eye color were exactly the same as Zenith's.
"Are you a noble from Milis?"
"...Yes."
Allen put the last bite of bread in his mouth and swallowed it.
"It seems I'll have to make a trip to Milis one day. There are some things there that are more complicated than they seem on the surface."
Merna stared blankly at Allen.
"You're not from Milis?"
"I'm from Asura."
"Is... that so...? Can a temple in Asura produce a person of such exceptional talent...?"
The four magics under the healing system—because detoxification magic and healing magic were so universal, they became a household name during the Human-Demon Wars. But the other two, the Divine Strike Art and the barrier spell, could only be learned within the Milis Church after the beginner level.
Even the Ranoa Magic University only had beginner Divine Strike Art and beginner barrier spell.
Merna lowered her head.
"Milis welcomes you. With your magical talent, the church will surely be shocked. A Holy Son... no, you can definitely be baptized and become a Divine Child!"
Allen shook his head, noncommittal.
"That's still too far away. I have many things to do before then, such as..."
"Are you ready? I remember that barrier spells can be cast directly at the beginner level, but you need a magic circle for intermediate spells. Is your mana enough?"
Merna nodded vigorously. For some reason, she felt a little nervous.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and placed her folded hands on the table.
"God, please look upon this person who devoutly believes in you."
A weak, gentle light, like a faint halo of stars, appeared in front of her hands.
"Grant me the ability to withstand scorching flames."
"Grant me the courage to withstand severe storms."
The ball of light in her hands began to change shape, rippling like a stone thrown into a lake.
Merna opened her eyes.
"Beginner Barrier Spell—Mana Barrier."
Crackling, crackling, the light on the table made a sound like a bad signal on an old television. It rose, connected, and formed a small barrier spell that looked like a glowing overturned bowl.
She looked at her work, breathed a sigh of relief, and looked up.
"You..."
Slap! The barrier spell was casually shattered by someone.
And then, in Merna's sudden stiffening, the hand that had broken the barrier came over.
It grabbed her wrist.
Merna almost jumped out of her chair. She looked at the person opposite her in shock.
Allen's other hand was propping up his head, as if he were lost in thought.
"Don't move."
"I'm thinking."
And in front of him.
The system panel, in the form of smoke, revealed its true nature.
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