"This is quite unusual... I haven't encountered anything like it anywhere in the wo—I mean in Pompeii," Alan remarked, catching himself before he revealed too much. He studied the mural etched on the broken wall of the ruin that dominated most of the 32nd floor, remnants of what might have once been a grand dome or castle.
Father Zeneth approached, examining the mural from behind Alan as he consulted his manual. "Ah yes, we received descriptions of these murals recently at our holy church from the council of King Raiders. It was determined that these murals are a faint reminder of the majestic paintings that once adorned the castle of Great Roiran, serving as a tribute to his sacrifice," Father Zeneth explained, flipping through the pages of his manual.
"Hmm, that is interesting," Alan remarked in a low voice, standing up and turning to face Father Zeneth. His gaze fixated on the emblem sewn onto the hard cover of the manual Father Zeneth was holding. With calculated curiosity, Alan asked, "So Father, if I recall correctly, you mentioned that you and your disciples were on your way to the 48th floor for a wedding ceremony at the Grand Cathedral there. Am I correct?"
Alan asked as he gestured for Relecta to follow as he began moving ahead, prompting her to tear her gaze away from the strange mural she had been studying.
Father Zeneth, his expression tinged with sadness, replied in a somber yet trying-to-be-uplifting tone, "Yes, that was the plan of Great Roiran, until..." His voice trailed off momentarily as a hint of fury flickered in his eyes. Swallowing back his anger, Father Zeneth continued, "As the 16th Archbishop of the Holy Church, my disciples and I were invited to officiate the wedding. But unfortunately, the heathen struck upon us. I tried to save my pupil from that evil, but his dreaded speed was stronger than my faith in Roiran at the time, which punished me harshly."
"Hmmmm..," Alan contemplated for a moment, intrigued by Father Zeneth's display of power in the earlier battle. Trying not to betray too much curiosity, he asked, "A question, Father Zeneth, if I may."
"Sure, please go ahead," Father Zeneth replied.
"Your abilities, from what I can deduce, are a sort of light manipulation. But as we were taught in the academy, there are only four forms of elemental wielding common in Pompeii. Isn't that true?" Alan inquired, his voice tinged with puzzlement and curiosity.
"Well….I can't say you are wrong, but I will say that you have a shortage of knowledge regarding the Arts of Wielding,"
Father Zeneth replied with a playful mocking tone, and Alan chuckled at his attempt to tease him about his lack of knowledge. But then, with a hint of sternness, Alan responded, "Well…I can't say you are wrong either, but my lack of knowledge is not intentional. I don't know if you are aware or not, but during the incident at the Founding Day Festival of the Chronos Wielder Academy, one of our mentors who was lost had taken it upon themselves to teach us about the art of wielding. So…I have no excuse to hide behind for my ignorance regarding the knowledge."
"Oh…forgive me. I had completely forgotten about that. It is true that I got the news of that chaos, and now somehow, after your friend's revelation, I do feel shocked about the urgency of our esteemed ruler and governing elites to press the issue with such arrogance that now it has come back to bite us," Father Zeneth admitted, his emotions a mix of sadness and frustration.
Hearing Father Zeneth's conflicted emotions, Alan continued to press him for answers about the nature of his power, all the while maintaining a stern composure. "You are right about that. So again, forgive me if it feels like I'm pressuring you, but my curiosity is quite flamed after witnessing your marvelous display of energy manipulation, and I am eager to know how it works."
Sensing Alan's piqued curiosity about his wielding, Father Zeneth smirked playfully, but with a calculated argument, he demanded Alan's secret in exchange for his own.
"Well, I can say the same about you, young warrior," Father Zeneth began, his tone thoughtful. "The agility and strength you displayed while trying to save your beloved... It won't be an overstatement to say your might far surpasses my own. And the strangeness surrounding your powers is as intriguing as mine. I only saw you use your marked weapon thrice; the rest of the battle, you employed strange techniques that boosted your speed and strength to the level of a king-level raider, if I've ever seen one. It might not be wrong to say you could even surpass them, if you desired."
From the lengthy explanation regarding Alan's skills and abilities by Father Zeneth, Alan sensed his calculated demand. Knowing that Zeneth was onto revealing his identity, Alan carefully calculated the risk and the amount and the manner of information he should reveal. Alan played his cards cautiously.
"Well, if you insist, but would you mind if I asked you to go first?" Alan proposed, his smile masking his true intentions. "I'm a bit shy, but hearing a little about you would help me to open up a bit."
"Sure, if you say so. You see, in Academies like your own, knowledge is vast and diverse, acquired through the exploits of alumni on daring raids. However, as the Chronos Wielder's Academy came after our very own Holy Church Knights, there are certain secrets exclusive to the confines of our church. Take, for example, Purgatio. It's taught to us as a myth passed down through generations, yet its practical application is vital in preventing heinous crimes from spreading throughout Pompeii. Then there's another phenomenon called Telum Evolutionis.
Much like how a typical wielder enhances their marked weapons by slaying beasts in Relic Castle and infusing them with the aura of fallen creatures, Telum Evolutionis is a different breed altogether. It's about self-discipline, rigorous training, and facing off against formidable opponents under the guidance of seasoned masters. Only a select few are chosen to partake in this revered tradition."
After the lengthy explanations, Father Zeneth paused for a moment, allowing Alan to absorb the information. Alan watched Relecta, who seemed bored by their conversation, wandering ahead to explore the ruins. Not entirely satisfied with Father Zeneth's answer, Alan pressed on.
"So, you mean to say this training helps you strengthen your mark weapons? Is that all?"
"I know…I know..it wasn't a satisfactory answer to your query but forgive me as I dwelled on the distant nostalgia. All this chaos is taking a bit of a toll on me, if you understand," Father Zeneth said, taking a moment to refill his lungs with fresh air. Both he and Alan pressed forward, and in that same nostalgic and stern tone, Father Zeneth continued.
"You see, I am one of those chosen warriors, as are most of us, specially selected from birth and raised in circumstances designed to enhance our chances of bearing a powerful type of mark after reaching the appropriate age. Then, after Telum Evolutionis, we unlock different aspects of our wielding, some even unknown to the King Level Raiders. So, finally coming to the point," Father Zeneth passed a teasing chuckle to Alan as he continued, "What you saw back there was actually fire wielding, only so much enhanced that I have gained command over the light produced by the fire, which is much more intense, and I'm sure you're fairly aware of it."
He gestured at Alan's torn and burned overall from the previous attack, now covered by his armor plate. Alan acknowledged Father Zeneth's gesture and replied with a bit of satisfied curiosity, "I suspected that but needed to be sure. Thanks for sharing it with me. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."
Sensing Alan's attempt to evade the topic, Father Zeneth, ever cunning, didn't forget about their deal. Maintaining his teasing tone, he replied, "Oh, no. Never, don't worry. Answering my queries now would even the discomfort out, I suppose."
Alan sighed in disappointment as his tactic failed, but he quickly shifted back to an eager facade. He had already prepared a satisfactory revelation regarding his abilities for Father Zeneth. Matching Father Zeneth's tone, Alan replied as they crossed the remnants of a large gate, likely belonging to the fallen structure that covered this floor.
"I was getting to that, Father, but first, tell me, what do you know about the eastern end of Pompeii?" Alan initiated his plan, observing Father Zeneth's reaction without turning, keeping his gaze fixed ahead. Father Zeneth seemed genuinely puzzled by the question, which boded well for Alan. When Father Zeneth responded, raising his gaze, Alan noted the curiosity in his eyes.
"Not much, other than its neglect by the governing elites and its slow development," Father Zeneth replied. "But why do you ask?"
"Because that's my homeland. And yes, you're correct about the slow pace of development there. But we have our own ways of compensating for our shortcomings," Alan explained, surprising Father Zeneth. As the Arch Bishop of the Holy Church, Father Zeneth had his eyes on nearly everything, making Alan's revelation unexpected. Now he listened even more attentively as Alan continued, "As you're well aware, perhaps even more than I am, Central Pompeii's societal structure revolves heavily around Marked Weapons and Relic Castle."
Father Zeneth nodded in agreement. "Yes, I suppose that is true."
"In the eastern province, our elders devised a technique that focuses solely on enhancing the abilities of the human body, rather than relying on marked weapons. Most of us are chosen based on our circumstances, and we live a life isolated from family, past or future. Our training is conducted within the confines of our institution, and we are forbidden from discussing it with anyone," Alan elaborated.
Father Zeneth's curiosity was piqued, but he also sensed a potential loophole in Alan's story. "But then, why should I believe you? You could very well be lying to uphold one of the conditions of your training," he remarked, voicing his suspicion.
"No, I suppose you should not," Alan replied calmly, sensing Father Zeneth's skepticism, "but the again, I would like you to consider our circumstances."
Father Zeneth's eyes widened in realization as Alan subtly manipulated the situation to his advantage. Alan continued with a determined tone, urging Father Zeneth to trust him.
"Right now, we are alone, without any close friends who might feel hurt by my revelations. I even made sure that Relecta was out of earshot," Alan added confidently.
Father Zeneth looked around, confirming Alan's claim as he failed to spot Relecta anywhere nearby. It became evident to Father Zeneth that Alan had strategically planned the conversation to avoid any potential interference.
Father Zeneth's focus intensified as Alan continued, his words drawing the archbishop's full attention.
"And right now, in this very place, I highly doubt you'll find anyone from the eastern province," Alan explained confidently. "Our teachings revolve around harnessing the resources provided by the land and nature itself. Through our training, we learn various techniques and arts that go beyond mere mortal abilities, sometimes transcending human understanding. We're trained to utilize our Ghunguan instead of relying solely on marked weapons. Ghunguan refers to the energy we harness to perform tasks similar to those accomplished with marked weapons here in Relic Castle and Pompeii."
Completely captivated by Alan's explanation, Father Zeneth's eyes widened in amazement.
"Fascinating…but t—"
"Yeah, yeah, coming to the point," Alan interrupted before Father Zeneth could finish, a hint of mockery in his tone. "Me and ten others from my group are part of a special faction within our institution. We were trained to elevate the use of Ghuguan to a higher level, which explains the display of skill you witnessed earlier. But me… I didn't quite fancy all that," Alan shifted his tone to one of playful disappointment as he began to weave his fabricated childhood and origin to Father Zeneth.
"Since I was a child, tales of wielding, Relic Castle, and Central Pompeii fascinated me. So as soon as my training was complete, I ran away from the institute and ended up here. The rest, as they say, is history."
Having absorbed Alan's lengthy yet fascinating origin, Father Zeneth was left in a state of amazement as he pondered the narrowness of his own worldview. Alan turned to him, offering a mild smile in response to Father Zeneth's puzzled expression. However, Alan's smile quickly transformed into a chilling glare as he delivered a warning in a chilling voice.
"Tell anyone about what we just discussed, and you won't live to see the next sunrise."
Father Zeneth's initial fright melted into a relieved smile as he realized Alan's warning was simply a playful request for discretion. With a gentle chuckle, Father Zeneth began to assure Alan of his silence.
"Don't worry, your secret is—"
"BOSS!!!!!!"
Father Zeneth's reassurance was abruptly cut off by Relecta's urgent call. Alan turned to see Relecta sweating profusely, her eyes widened with fear and shock as she panted out her words.
"IT'S...IT'S ARMIS!!!"
The widening of Alan's eyes mirrored the fear etched onto Relecta's face when she mentioned Armis's name. Instantly, urgency surged through Alan's body, sending shivers down his spine. With Father Zeneth close behind, Alan rushed towards Relecta.
Following her lead, they navigated through a hidden passage concealed by foliage. As they emerged, Alan's heart sank, his mouth dry with desperation and fear. The sight before him struck terror into his core, causing his stomach to churn with dread.
In a large clearing surrounded by ruined walls and debris, the ground was littered with charred mud and shattered remnants. In the center of the devastation knelt a figure, blood pooling around them from gaping wounds where their arms had been severed clean off.
Alan's breath caught in his throat as he witnessed the gruesome scene unfold before him. Horror etched across his face as the injured figure, with swollen, tear-filled eyes, turned to reveal himself as Armis.
Alan's anguished cry pierced the air as he rushed towards his friend, calling out desperately, "Armis!"