Rebirth of the 8th-Circle Mage

Herarion refused.

Henry remained silent. Of course, he had somewhat expected Herarion to decline his request. Even if this was for the sake of defeating a common enemy, no religious person would ever accept deceiving the deity they worshiped, the deity for which they would give their life.

Therefore, Henry was not shocked, but even so, he kept silent. This silence was simply a negotiating technique, which prompted Herarion to bow and apologize.

“I am so sorry, Archmage. I swear that I thought carefully about your offer, I really did. But I cannot do what you ask, and there’s a reason for that.”

There was no way a man of Herarion’s stature would give Henry some half-assed excuse, so Henry decided to hear out what Herarion’s reason was.

“Then may I ask what the reason is?”

“It’s because of the will of the gods.”

“The will of the gods?”

“Yes. Like you’ve just said, the best way to defeat those who possess divine power is to possess an even greater divine power yourself. However, anyone who worships a god puts them above their quest for revenge. It would be blasphemous for us to use the blessing of the gods for the sake of our personal greed.”

“So this is a matter of conscience?”

“No, it’s a matter of faith. A god can tell if your faith is genuine or not.”

Herarion was trying to say that a deity would see through this kind of trickery.

After listening to the explanation, Henry became silent again and got lost in thought. After a while, he continued, “Hmm, I thought I’d come up with a solution, but it seems it was no good. I wonder why the Saint didn’t tell me this sooner?”

“I’m sure it’s because she didn’t dare think of something like this. But the deity she worships is the goddess of peace and love, so perhaps Goddess Irene will take pity on your situation and give you a chance...”

Naturally, each god had their unique characteristics. Herarion was suggesting that Irene might be more benevolent than La, which was why it would be better for Henry to ask the Church of Peace for this favor. freew(e)bnovel.(c)om

Henry understood exactly what Herarion was trying to say.

“That’s a shame.”

It really was a shame.

Janus ruled over death and over the night of Shahatra, so Henry had naturally assumed that Janus’ counterpart was La. But it was a shame that La wasn’t going to understand Henry’s situation.

Henry crossed his arms and fell into thought again. At this point, he had no choice but to go with his second-best plan.

Seeing that Henry had gone silent again, Herarion, with an apologetic expression, said, “I truly am sorry, Archmage...”

“Huh? No worries. I was just throwing out an idea, and I wasn’t really expecting you to go with it.”

“But it’s true that I haven’t been of any help, right? So... I would like to propose another solution.”

“Another solution, you say?”

“Yes. If divine power is all you need, there’s a way to acquire it without believing in La.”

“!”

This was the best thing Henry had heard so far. He put his arms on the table and leaned toward Herarion, asking eagerly, “How?”

“You must have a divine object.”

“A divine object?”

“That’s right.”

Depending on the religion, that object was either called a holy object or a divine object, but the gist of it was that it was imbued with the aura and the divine power of that particular god. For example, Herarion’s tokens of proof from La and Janus were divine objects.

“Archmage, what I’m about to tell you is a great secret that nobody else knows about other than the royal family of Khan.”

“...Is it really okay for you to share such a secret with me?”

“Yes. I’ve already lost a lot, and I also don’t have the power to kill Arthus. My fury won’t be appeased and the souls of the dead won’t find peace if I just sit around and act high and mighty.”

As Herarion was speaking, Henry noticed many emotions in his eyes—vengefulness, hatred, sorrow, loneliness, emptiness... These were the eyes of a man who had nothing left to lose. They convinced Henry of Herarion’s determination.

Henry smiled and said, “You’ve made a big decision, Your Majesty, and I’d like to thank you on behalf of everyone and say that we’re grateful for your help.”

“No, this is nothing compared to what you’ve already done for me and to the things you’re going to do from now on. Now, let me tell you the secret of the Shahatra dynasty, something I have never revealed to anyone else.”

Henry listened attentively to Herarion, and after the explanation was finished, Henry smiled.

The secret of the Shahatra dynasty and of the divine objects—Henry realized that this might be easier than he had thought.

*

“Are you all feeling better now?”

At Henry’s request, Vulcanus was waiting for his guests in his office at the city hall. The guests were those who had left the meeting room earlier to allow Henry and Herarion to talk in private—Von, McDowell, Valhald, Allen, and Balak.

As for Walker, Hector, and Ronan, they were also in good shape, given that the Saint had also healed them overnight, but they had simply decided that they didn’t need to attend Henry’s meeting, and instead, they were already at their assigned accommodations.

“We just barely survived thanks to the Saint, but... may I ask why Henry sent us here?”

McDowell was the first to reply to Vulcanus. He seemed to be feeling much better, given that his more serious injuries had been healed, and he was also in better spirits compared to the previous night.

“Haha, isn’t it obvious why he sent you to the best blacksmith in Monsieur?” Vulcanus chuckled. I heard that you lost all your equipment in your last battles.”

This was the shameful truth. The apostles had decimated McDowell, Valhald, and Allen, and scraped a message into their flesh to make the humiliation that much worse. Moreover, their equipment had been completely destroyed.

At Vulcanus’ question, the three of them flushed and lowered their heads in embarrassment.

“I was lucky enough to escape Arthus’ wrath, so if you’re going to make new armor, only the three of them need it,” added Von.

“Von, was it?”

“That’s right.”

“Speaking of which, do you mind if I take a look at your equipment first? If your equipment is in good shape as you say, then I wouldn’t have to make you anything new.”

“Alright,” replied Von. He took out his sword and armor from the Subspace Pouch around his waist and held them out to Vulcanus.

Von had always taken good care of his own equipment because the first step in becoming a knight was taking care of one’s weapon.

Vulcanus carefully examined Von’s sword and armor akin to an appraiser examining a gemstone; it was a delicate process.

After he finished examining the equipment, Vulcanus said, “Your sword and armor are fine indeed, but they’re quite old. They’ve been repaired and refurbished hundreds of times, but the seams of the armor, among other things, are almost worn out.”

Vulcanus’ comment was a mixture of criticism and praise. Von’s equipment was indeed a few decades old, so Vulcanus’ points of critique made sense. But the fact that his equipment had lasted this long proved how much Von loved and cared for it.

“Von.”

“Yes, Sir Vulcanus?”

“Like I said, your equipment is good, but not great.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s too old. I’m not saying this out of pride or to criticize the craftsman who made them, but it saddens me to see the marks of time on your sword and armor. You care much for your equipment, and I have no doubt that you have a connection with it, which is why you’re still using this equipment even though you can easily acquire and use something else. Am I wrong?”

As expected of the best blacksmith in Monsieur. His assessment was spot on.

It was great caring for one’s equipment, but such lingering attachment could become a hindrance.

“How about this? If you give me a chance, I swear by my name that I'll craft one-of-a-kind equipment perfectly suited for you.”

With the negotiation skills of a merchant, Vulcanus made Von the best offer a blacksmith could. This was also something Henry had asked Vulcanus to do. He was willing to pay any price as long as his comrades got the best equipment there was.

Such a request was bound to excite any blacksmith out there, so Vulcanus wanted to provide the best possible service to Henry’s guests.

Von pondered on Vulcanus’ offer.

Glua, his favorite sword, had been created back in Enkelmann before the empire had been founded. Von had danced with it for decades. He and other countless blacksmiths had sharpened Glua countless times, trying to make use of it just a little bit longer.

However, the reality was that Glua was just an ordinary sword. After all, the craftsmen in Enkelmann who had crafted Glua were less skilled than those in Monsieur. Von himself admitted that Glua wasn’t the best sword he had ever wielded, but even so, he had never complained about it.

Von had consistently taken care of his sword, his mentality being that a master swordsman never blamed his sword for anything.

Von was conflicted. Glua was the only remnant of Enkelmann he had. Giving up this sword meant giving up the only attachment he still had left to his hometown.

After much thought, Von responded reluctantly, “... I will keep my sword as is, but I’d like to ask for armor instead.”

“Alright.”

Having understood Von’s intentions, Vulcanus made no further suggestions. Instead, he promised Von that he would make him the best armor in the world.

Following Von’s reply, Balak added, “Then I’ll just ask for new armor as well. The weapon I already have is good enough for me.”

Balak, who had been assigned to Deucekain, hadn’t been visited by Arthus’ apostle either. However, most parts of his blood-red armor had been destroyed, including his hornet helmet, in past battles, which was why he requested that Vulcanus make him a new set of armor as well.

After receiving instruction from Von and Balak, Vulcanus turned to the other three and said, “Now it’s your turn.”

As if they had been waiting to answer, McDowell, Valhald, and Allen proceeded to explain to Vulcanus what they wanted.

Getting back on their feet and acquiring new equipment was the first step toward taking revenge against Arthus in one month's time.

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