Orishin was finally silenced by Criel.
"Hey."
[Hahaha! Did you see? I have claimed victory in this battle against that wicked witch—]
"That's not something to be happy about."
[Huh?]
"It means that even as a holy maiden, she can't purify your curse. Unless they perform a Grand Purification Ceremony with multiple priests, you'll have to live forever tainted by the Abyss."
[What? Wait. Is that... really how it works?]
Orishin, losing all composure, fell silent for a while before wailing "This wasn't supposed to be my fate!" and disappearing into the Baikon horn.
Criel had hoped he could finally enjoy a peaceful dinner, but instead he had to face Morgina, who made no attempt to hide her frustration.
Picking up her tray and plopping down directly across from Criel, Morgina whispered in a very small voice.
"...It's not that I lack skill."
"I know."
Criel answered calmly. As far as he knew, Morgina was the most skilled priest. If she couldn't fix it despite her persistence, then it was probably a curse that couldn't be solved by an individual from the beginning.
"It must have been quite a terrible curse."
"The intensity of the curse itself wasn't that strong. The core is the problem."
"The core?"
"The nucleus of the curse. Something that's corrupting that deranged horse-head's soul. I tried purification blessings several times, but the deepest source wouldn't wash away."
She explained that unless the core of the curse was cleansed, corruption would continue to progress, however slowly. Criel questioned:
"Wait. If it's a structural problem, does that mean even something like a Grand Purification Ceremony wouldn't work?"
"If we poured that much holy power into it, I couldn't guarantee the results... but theoretically, it's impossible. Blessings borrow the principles of the gods, so you need a precise understanding of which principle works in what way."
Morgina added a brief example. A person suffering from a fatal illness received healing blessings multiple times, but while their condition improved somewhat, the illness wasn't cured.
In fact, they weren't sick at all but infected with parasites.
"Well, whether the real cause was parasites or poison varies depending on which collection of cases you read, but that's not important. It's a cautionary tale teaching that without proper understanding, randomly using blessings won't solve the fundamental problem."
Criel held the Baikon horn in his hand and looked at it. If there was no way to solve the corruption, how should he deal with this?
Suddenly, Orishin's voice echoed in his mind.
[W-wait a minute. We've developed a bond these past few days, so you're not going to 'crack' or 'crush' me, right?]
Criel didn't answer. After listening to about eight variations of Orishin's "please wait a bit because now is inconvenient" pleas, Morgina, looking thoroughly annoyed, muttered:
"That sucker came all this way, I can't let it end like this..."
"Hey. Give me that."
"The horn?"
"Yes. I'll try something."
[Wait! You're thinking of handing me over to that thug! Criel! Sir Knight!]
Orishin shouted passionately. The difference from the previous mental noise pollution was that this time he was so desperate he couldn't use thought waves, so he shouted audibly.
"Orishin."
[Are you going to spare me!]
"There's a saying: you reap what you sow. You should have watched your mouth."
Criel handed the horn to Morgina, ignoring Orishin's screams. It wasn't just to torment Orishin, but a preemptive measure to prevent corruption.
Morgina smiled fiercely.
***
When Criel saw Morgina again, three days and nights had passed. Impressively, her eyes were hollow with exhaustion, quite unlike her usual energetic or passionate self.
"Take it."
What Morgina threw was a dagger in an elegant leather sheath. Both the hilt and sheath were black, making it look almost like a short black staff from a distance.
Criel drew the dagger. The keenly refined blade resembled freshly butchered bone in color. The base color of the blade was white, but a subtle red glow lingered along the center of the edge, as if not all the blood had drained away.
The strangely curved, winding blade glinted with a unique atmosphere reminiscent of sea foam or flames whenever it caught the light.
And at that moment, the now-familiar chattering voice pierced his ears.
[So much has happened. I'm really exhausted, seriously.]
"What is this?"
"It's a dagger made from that horn. The sheath has a silencing effect on it. That guy was seriously noisy."
The Baikon horn had been sharp enough to cut through plate armor. However, that sharpness was concentrated at the tip of the horn. Spreading it across the entire blade must have required considerable effort.
"If you go around stabbing people with that, the corruption will be purified. Even if we can't clean the root cause because that horse-head's mind is messed up, we can at least wash away the corruption each time it gets dirty."
Morgina spoke casually, but the effort she had put in was comparable to preparing for the temple's grand festival.
Yv Caha was the goddess who guided fallen warriors. It was natural that she had the character of a war goddess. Sometimes honorable combat itself became an offering to her.
Morgina had used this to bestow a blessing that elevated battles fought with the horn-dagger into rituals dedicated to Yv Caha. As long as Criel didn't put down the knife, the horse wouldn't suddenly go berserk and charge at him.
"Now, get ready."
"Ready?"
"I told you, didn't I? We need to meet the Priest King in a few days. Are you going to wear that heavy-looking armor? It's a royal audience, after all."
Criel's protest that a knight's formal attire was armor became meaningless in the face of the clothes Morgina threw at him.
The well-ordered but not ostentatious uniform was black like Morgina's clothes, resembling a crow. On the chest area, a crow-shaped embroidery in red thread made it easy to recognize as a uniform of the Church of Yv Caha.
Seeing Criel after he changed, Morgina nodded with a satisfied expression.
"Clothes make the man. Let's go."
***
The Priest King hated his position.
He should have realized something was wrong when there were no volunteers during the election. He thought it was the pinnacle of temple power, but it turned out to be the pinnacle of administrative work. This was fraud.
"Gods of the pantheon..."
Please shorten the Priest King's term. The Priest King couldn't bring himself to say the rest out loud. Not out of concern for blasphemy, but simply because there would be no answer anyway.
"Your Holiness. The saints from various orders have arrived."
The voice of an elderly priest announcing from outside the office. If the Priest King could switch positions with that priest, he would give a fortune.
"Please tell everyone to come in."
The office door opened, and the saints slowly walked in. In the early days of his term, they had all been away from the holy city of Temris and unfamiliar, but now he had become accustomed to their faces after several meetings.
"Hmm?"
There was an unfamiliar person among the saints. The Priest King himself had said, "I will assign a task, and you may bring along a trustworthy companion who can help you complete it." Because it would be a secret mission, the number was limited to three people total.
Some of the saints, as authorized, had brought one or two holy knights from their respective orders. All were people the Priest King knew.
More precisely, the Priest King knew every priest who visited the holy city. As the supreme ruler of the Holy Kingdom, he presided over priest appointment and promotion ceremonies, and memorized the faces of all the clergy he met on those occasions.
But that white-haired holy knight—identifiable as the Church of Yv Caha's Champion by his insignia—was a face he had never seen before.
"Morgina. Who is that person?"
"Our order's Champion. Appointed him the other day."
The Priest King pondered briefly before nodding. The right to appoint Champions belonged to each order. While he might question Morgina's unilateral decision, he could trust a decision made at the Church of Yv Caha level.
"I assume you've all heard the situation in brief. An Abyss relic has been discovered."
"How many are there that you called all of us?"
"Many."
"How many exactly?"
The one pressing for an answer was an elderly man with visibly well-trained muscles. He was a martial arts monk. As the elderly monk repeated his question, the Priest King picked up a pouch from the table and turned it upside down.
Metal fragments fell with a clinking sound, layer upon layer. When all the fragments from the pouch had fallen, the Priest King opened another pouch.
Then another, and another. The metal fragments piled up in heaps.
"All of these are wedges from the Abyss."
"Such small fragments? Aren't they too small to be relics?"
Just as the Priest King was about to explain, he noticed Morgina firmly pressing two fingers near her Champion's shoulder.
"...Yes, you're right. They're all Abyss relics."
Oh? The Priest King's eyes gleamed with interest. Whoever this person was, they clearly had exceptional senses to be selected as the order's Champion.
"But they're not different relics. It's as if one relic has been split into many—"
Amazing perceptiveness. The Priest King clapped his hands.
"Damn, Morgina. Where did you find someone like this! It's like having a human Holy Gate!"
For Criel, who had nearly been expelled from the holy city because of that Holy Gate, it was hard to know what expression to make.