The midday sun hung high in the vast sky, its overwhelming radiance casting a blinding light upon all beneath it.
"I am Narbareck, current head of the Burial Agency. It is an honor to meet you, Lord Novia."
The man with his right eye hidden beneath a curtain of hair fixed his gaze upon Novia.
Perhaps it was the inexplicable allure of Novia's deep blue eyes—
A gaze that seemed capable of pulling one's very soul into its depths—
That caused Narbareck's eyes to instinctively drift around the room.
Besides a plain wooden square table and four straw-woven chairs, there was no other furniture.
In the spot where a mirror might typically hang, there was instead a silver-bronze crucifix, nailed to a strip of black cloth, enclosed within a modest, golden wooden frame.
There was nothing luxurious here.
The simplicity of the space, coupled with the tangible presence of witnessed miracles, naturally gave rise to a profound sense of reverence.
"Since you're here, I assume Koback conveyed my message to you," Novia said gently, his smile soft but carrying unmistakable weight.
"Of course. From this day forward, the Burial Agency will no longer operate independently. We will act under your command.
Unnecessary personnel within the Agency have already been dismissed across the forty-five provinces of the Roman Empire.
We will also begin openly recruiting powerful individuals."
Narbareck replied with a wry smile.
For the Narbareck lineage, this was neither entirely good news nor entirely bad.
After all, every head of the Burial Agency bore the title "Narbareck"—a name inherited along with the position.
From its founding, leadership had always remained within the Narbareck bloodline.
The Agency itself had never recruited outsiders—
A measure meant to preserve absolute purity of faith and character.
This was the same logic behind their historical independence from the Jewish Church.
Even when the so-called "King of Antichrist," Doro, once requested they assassinate Novia, they refused outright.
In their eyes, this was a matter of doctrinal interpretation—
Not grounds for murder.
But after the battle in Jerusalem…
When darkness shrouded the land for those three fateful minutes…
Narbareck realized his lineage had made a grave mistake.
They had failed to aid the Lord's messenger.
A sin beyond forgiveness.
Just as he pondered how to atone for that failure, Koback arrived—bearing Novia's summons.
The visit of a Dead Apostle Ancestor should've sent the entire Burial Agency into high alert.
After all, aside from Narbareck himself, they lacked the power to confront such a high-ranking Dead Apostle.
But upon learning this was a former Church ally—
And that he carried Novia's message—
Their fears eased somewhat.
Yet when Novia's actual demands were revealed…
The Burial Agency erupted into chaos.
Novia's requests were as follows:
From this day forth, the Burial Agency would retain only one unshakable tradition:
The leader would remain the strongest Narbareck.
But all other positions would adopt a meritocratic system.
Strength alone would determine eligibility.
Any individual, regardless of background, even those merely nominally faithful, would be welcome—
So long as they had the power to eliminate targets the Agency found inconvenient to handle directly.
A new Burial Agency would be formed:
Seven handpicked members, plus one selected personally by Novia.
As for the rest—
They were to be dispatched across the forty-five provinces of the Roman Empire, stationed at major churches to suppress lurking Dead Apostles and spread the faith.
In effect, Novia was dismantling the centuries-old, insular structure of the Burial Agency.
Inevitable infighting followed.
But after careful consideration, Narbareck agreed.
To demonstrate sincerity, he came alone to meet Novia.
He understood full well:
What Novia sought was an absolute execution force—
A unit capable of killing even Dead Apostle Ancestors.
At the same time, he wanted ordinary citizens to retain hope when facing Dead Apostles, through simple, accessible methods.
After all—
Low-ranking Dead Apostles were little more than beasts.
With courage, they could be resisted.
But the problem was their human-like form—
Which instinctively paralyzed ordinary people with fear.
"Give me a copy of those names," Novia said casually, his words bordering on impolite, yet Narbareck wasn't the least offended.
On the contrary—
It felt natural coming from someone like Novia.
"Understood. I've prepared the list in advance—
A total of 135 individuals. Please review it."
Narbareck retrieved a sealed letter from his pocket, handing it to Novia.
"Let's see…"
As Novia flipped through the list, his eyes landed on an unexpected name.
He asked casually,
"By the way, does your family always pass down names like this?"
"Yes. The title 'Narbareck' is reserved for the strongest in the bloodline.
Other names are inherited through combat.
For the sake of purity, the losers… are executed."
"I see."
The reason Novia asked was because among the names listed, one stood out—
Beze.
A familiar name.
The same as the 25th Dead Apostle Ancestor—
Beze, the sword monk who wove techniques for slaying Dead Apostles, holder of the principle of the "Sword."
If memory served—
Beze, teacher of Ciel and the 19th Ancestor, was believed to have lived around 300 AD.
Renowned priest of the Church, master swordsman, and inventor of the Black Keys.
Perhaps this "Beze" was his ancestor.
"Let's abolish that tradition," Novia said bluntly, lifting the letter.
"No need to kill the defeated.
Not everyone desires victory.
Instead…
Let them retreat into anonymity and establish orphanages.
The Empire and local churches will provide financial support."
"…Understood." Narbareck nodded.
"Is there anything else I can assist with?
I noticed you don't have many bodyguards. Would you like me to—"
"No need."
Novia smiled faintly.
"My teacher and the eleven apostles of Jesus Christ will be arriving in a few days.
You can meet them with me then."
Though Albion, having returned to the "Spear" for now, said nothing,
Novia didn't need to ask—
He knew she was watching.
If he accepted Narbareck's offer of protection,
She'd no doubt be in a foul mood.
Last time, after Nero returned, Albion bit him again.
Fortunately, she only left bite marks—
Not a chunk of missing flesh.
"One more thing."
Novia added as if remembering,
"In the next few days, help me find someone.
Name's Locusta.
Green hair.
Lives in the forests of Gaul, supposedly surviving off mushrooms."
It was strange.
Novia distinctly remembered—
This eccentric mushroom girl, a master of poisons,
Shunned by normal society for her unhinged behavior,
Living deep in the forests, surviving on mushrooms.
Despite that, her expertise in herbalism made her popular among the powerful,
Often hired for assassinations using poison.
And every time, she managed to escape punishment thanks to her influential employers.
By all logic, she should've been easy to track down.
Yet…
Not a single lead.
An unsettling mystery.
"Hm… one person, living off mushrooms in Gaul? Understood."
For an ordinary person, scouring all of Gaul for someone was an impossible task.
But for Narbareck, whose strength rivaled even a proper Dead Apostle Ancestor—
It was child's play.
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