Chapter 63: The Church
For six long hours, I found myself sitting in the back of my car, driven by one of the five slaves I had to my name.
The other four trailed closely behind in an SUV.
It felt like I was a member of the mafia or something the way the two black vehicles lined up together.
'The Agnus family is practically a mafia in a sense.'
Jerman would have been by my side and driving me normally but since I had insisted he took a well-deserved holiday, recalling him now felt premature and unjust.
The city I was in, home to the baron's domain, stretched out before me as the car glided through its bustling streets. While the driver navigated the roads, my mind was engrossed in the reports written by the Facold family which I had been reading since we left the mansion.
The reports delved into every scrap of information about Gerald Giggador, now known as Gabriel Webmour, previously known as Grayson Webmour, his so-called father.
Gerald cunningly disguised his true identity, deceiving others with his lack of aging by pretending to be his own child.
My original plan was to wait until I had all possible information regarding the baron before I proceeded with massacring him to fulfill the promise of Apple, the ghost child who had been trapped in that dungeon.
But with one of the major characters from the novel being in the mouth of danger far greater than she could possibly imagine, I couldn't delay my mission any longer.
It wasn't ideal but I had to proceed.
Before plunging into the heart of the city where the baron resided, I made a brief stop at the church, home of devout followers who were more like zealous fanatics to be completely honest.
The church believed in the return of angels to whisk them away to the heavens, bringing them to a paradise where they would get to meet their god.
They clung to hope, despite unanswered prayers and the glaring reality of their abandonment. But discussing the truth with them would prove to be futile. It'd be akin to pouring water into a sieve.
As soon as I stepped out of the car, the five slaves my age vanished into the shadow, watching and protecting me from afar.
Since the day that their loyalty and life were pledged to me, they had been following me around so I no longer felt uncomfortable about their presence regardless if I was in the shower or sleeping.
I was curious, however, about how the five of them ate, took showers, or slept when they were protecting me 24/7.
As I ascended the steps, I knocked gently on the door, patience my virtue as I awaited a response.
'Did they not hear it?' It was past their service hours and most of the members were done with their work for the day so I was surprised by the lack of response.
I knocked a little louder. Waited to no avail. Then I sighed. "I should've done this, to begin with. Apologies in advance."
Folding my hand into a fist, I pounded on the wooden door as hard as I could without damaging it.
'Oops. A small dent was made.'
After a minute of waiting, the door slowly opened to reveal a priest with a seasoned face full of wrinkles like waves in the ocean. His rough hands and hoarse voice bore witness to years of devoted service, while his hair that were mostly white made me assume that he was in his 50s at the very least.
"Hello," he greeted me with a gentle smile, ignoring the fact that I had pounded on the door.
His gaze soon fell upon the mysterious box in my hands.
I didn't waste time with pleasantries because I was in a hurry. "I seek an audience with the bishop of this church," I stated firmly.
"Do you perhaps have an appointment with him?" he asked, not pushing me away despite my behavior stating clearly that I wasn't a member of the church.
"No," I shook my head.
"An appointment is necessary, I'm afraid. Sorry about this, young man," the priest replied with a respectful bow, hinting at the bishop's busy schedule.
"Please, I understand the protocol, but this is an emergency. The contents of this box demand the attention of someone of the bishop's stature or higher," I implored, my tone carrying the weight of the situation.
In the box lay a precious item, the object I had requested from one of my loyal shadows on the day of Rubi's birthday, informing them to bid or steal which came down to stealing it at the end of the day.
The priest's gaze seemed almost piercing as if he was trying to peer into the box and see what was inside of it.
The raw power of mana leaking from within was powerful so it was understandable why his eyes couldn't escape the box.
"Are you sure I can't assist you with it?" he asked me, his willingness to help evident in his voice.
It didn't sound like his inquiry came from a place of greed either. He just sounded like someone who wanted to help a fellow human who was in need of assistance.
"No. I'm afraid not. It's not that I don't appreciate your offer, I do... but this object is something only a bishop or higher rank is permitted to see," I explained.
I saw the disappointment on his face, perhaps feeling as though my words were looking down on his position as a priest even if unintentionally.
Nonetheless, the priest maintained his composure, concealing his disappointment behind a smile. "I can't promise anything, but I'll speak to the bishop and see if he'll grant you an audience," he said, and I nodded gratefully.
"Thank you," I expressed my gratitude.
"In the meantime, would you like to wait inside?" he offered, gesturing towards the church's interior.
"Am I allowed to enter?" I questioned, aware of the sacredness of the space. "I'm not a follower."
"It's fine. We accept all as long as they come with good intentions. At the moment, we're just preparing for tomorrow's service," he reassured me, referring to the upcoming Sunday mass.
"In that case, I appreciate your kindness and will accept your offer," I replied, stepping into the vast sanctuary.
The priest led me to a pew, and I settled down as he went to speak with the bishop. The sanctuary was a grand spectacle, with rows of pews that could accommodate thousands of worshippers. At the front, an elevated platform held the majestic altar, while a choir loft and organs adorned the space. Brilliant stained glass windows adorned the walls, depicting religious scenes and symbols, and above, a stunning mural that must've taken years to create told a story that spanned centuries.
The dozens of novices and deacons moved gracefully throughout the sanctuary, tidying up the space and preparing for the forthcoming service.
Although I stood out as an outsider and caught the attention of everyone in the sanctuary, their gazes were short because it was the priest who had brought me into the sanctuary.
Seated there, I couldn't envision myself converting to this faith, even if it was playing a role, for I had encountered a real god, and the impression left on me was less than favorable.
"Sorry that I took so long."
Finally, the priest returned, and behind him stood the bishop.
"I heard from Father Alexander that you needed to speak with me urgently," the bishop addressed me, appearing remarkably youthful for a man in his position.
His face was smooth as a baby and his green hair looked like grass that had been fed plenty of water and sunlight.
His eyes, however, glinted with the wisdom of someone far beyond his years.
I stood up from the pew, facing the two men, while the priest took a respectful step back, aligning himself behind the bishop.
"That's right. Nice to meet you, I am Bell Agnus," I introduced myself with a measured poise.
"Agnus? Is this perhaps the same Agnus family that I'm thinking of?" he inquired, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"I can't claim to know your thoughts, Bishop, but probably," I replied, maintaining respect while also not succumbing to the power of the church.
"Well then, Bell Agnus, what business do you have with the church? What emergency has brought you all the way over here during a beautiful Christmas day?" he inquired with genuine curiosity.
His question about the purpose of my visit to the church during the festive Christmas day brought a smile to my lips. In this world where Jesus Christ wasn't a historical figure and Christianity was not a religion that existed, it was amusing to hear him use the term "Christmas."
If the shitty god was a little better at writing his novel, he could've prevented mistakes like these including the presence of Chinese New Year despite the absence of China as a nation in this world.
There was the equivalent of China just as there was the equivalent of Japan and the USA which I live in, but China itself was not a thing.
Handing the box over to the bishop, I made a request, "Please, ensure that only you lay eyes on its contents when you open it."
The bishop seemed to have an inkling of what lay inside, as he didn't question the possibility of a dangerous weapon within and complied with my request.
"You sought a private meeting with me, is that correct, Agnus of Bell?" he asked.
"Yes," I answered.
With a nod, the bishop addressed the priest accompanying us, "Father Alexander, I appreciate your swift response to this emergency. I shall engage in a private conversation with this young one. Ensure that no one eavesdrops or interrupts us. If our conversation takes a while and overlaps with anything else in my schedule, be sure to cancel them."
The priest's curiosity about the box and the reason behind my unscheduled audience with the bishop was noticeable in his expression, yet he respectfully set it aside, bowing his head.
"Thank you, Father Alexander," I expressed my gratitude before following the bishop as we ascended the stairs in silence. We descended three floors, arriving at the basement, a secluded realm accessible only with a key.
"The only people allowed in here are myself and those I'm meeting with," the bishop assured, quelling any concerns of eavesdroppers.
As the door locked behind us, my curiosity lingered, wondering if he would exhibit a different side, showing signs of corruption and being two-faced.
We proceeded to his office, where he motioned for me to take a seat at one end of the table, while he settled at the other.
Placing the box down, he opened it, exhaling a sigh of relief. "Just as I thought, the missing ruby."
The significance of the missing ruby was not lost on me. It was an integral part of the Holy Grail which was not only a symbol of the church but one of the most powerful artifacts in the world.
The bishop inquired, "May I ask, Angus of Bell, how did this come into your possession?"
I candidly replied, "One of my servants acquired it for me at an auction in the black market."
At the mention of the black market, his eyebrows slightly frowned but he didn't bring it up.
He probed further, curious about my interest in the ruby, unaware that my knowledge extended far beyond what he assumed.
"What made you desire to purchase ruby in the first place? Was it just the mana that it exudes?" he questioned.
"I heard about it and simply felt the desire to possess it," I responded vaguely, cautious not to reveal too much.
"Are you aware of what this ruby truly represents?" he asked.
His question sounded useless considering that I wouldn't have brought the ruby here to the church if I wasn't aware of what it was but he was most likely asking this to just gauge more about me.
"Yes, it is part of the Holy Grail, one of the six gems needed to use its power," I revealed.
His baffled expression betrayed his astonishment at my awareness as well as how willing I was to tell him the truth.
"How do you know this? The secrets of the Holy Grail have never been revealed to the outside world. No one outside the church knows the existence of the gems," he expressed his bewilderment.
My instincts sensed no hostility within him despite me knowing a secret his church held close to themselves, reassuring me of his genuine nature.
'Perhaps he is as benevolent and kind inside as he is on the outside.'
It was a comforting thought because although the church was a bunch of fanatics that believed in a god that didn't exist, the amount of good that they did couldn't be understated.
The church of this world was unlike the typical fantasy novels where religious organizations often abused their power and extorted their followers.
Obviously like with any organization, there are bound to be a few bad apples that take bribes or conduct crimes but most members of the church were sincere individuals, driven by a genuine desire to help others.
That's why I was willing to gamble this precious card in my hand.
In the off-chance that the bishop I spoke to was one of the corrupt few, my plan would crumble and the difficulty of dealing with the baron would increase.
Thankfully, that didn't seem to be the case.
"I know because of who I am," I replied with a smile, implying that being an Agnus was why I knew the truth but in reality, I was referring to my identity as being a reader of the novel.
"You are... who you are. Hmm," he muttered with a smile. "Then surely, you seek something in return for this valuable gift you've returned to the church?"
"Of course, I do," I confirmed with a slightly devious smile.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
nemolikessoju
nemolikessoju After reading your responses to my last chapter and my thoughts on where I am as a writer and author, I was able to slightly pull myself out of the creative swamp. I took a few hours to reflect on where I was going with this arc and thankfully, even while I was writing like a mindless zombie, I had been setting up things with my occasional expositions and foreshadowing. I think I'm back on track for the plot. Hopefully. Fingers crossed.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone