Episode 223

I finished my meal and returned to my room as the sun slipped below the horizon. Inside, I found the items I had asked Kayan to prepare. Among them sat the Holy Grail.

“Is this the Holy Grail?” I murmured.

The grandly titled Blue Dragon’s Blood Goblet was none other than the Holy Grail. Despite its legendary name, it looked like nothing more than an old drinking cup. If it had gleamed from the start, I would have remembered it. I had won it at auction, yet its appearance had slipped from my memory until Lise reminded me.

Even so, calling it a Holy Grail felt strange. By my standards, pouring water into such a plain vessel and drinking from it bordered on unsettling. Still, Kayan would never hand me a counterfeit.

I picked it up and headed to the infirmary.

Hellstar sat at his desk, writing with his back to me. Perhaps he sensed my presence by the door. In a calm voice, he said, “Today’s treatment is already done. If the symptoms aren’t severe, maybe try some tomorrow…?”

He slowly turned, and his expression changed dramatically. He seemed to bite his tongue as if caught off guard.

I offered a gentle smile to reassure him. “Hello, Bishop Hellstar. You look much better than the last time I saw you.”

“R-really? Hahaha.”

My comment may have sounded sarcastic, but I meant it sincerely. These weren’t empty words; my impression of Hellstar had genuinely improved.

It was rare for someone’s image to change so drastically in just a few days. Perhaps such change came only after enduring extreme hunger, but that did not seem to be his case. It seemed the shift in mindset could even manifest in the face. Physical transformations required time, even under harsh training, yet the mind could turn in a single day given the right catalyst.

Years of idleness or complacency could vanish in an instant if someone faced their reflection and realized the person staring back was pathetic. From that moment, change became possible. This was the essence of being human: the mere determination to live rightly could be enough to reshape a person’s presence and character.

To be honest, I hadn’t expected to witness such a transformation in Hellstar. Did this mean he wasn’t an inherently evil man, rotten to the core?

In truth, Hellstar was a low-level villain. His actions were petty, far beneath someone of his status. He was small-minded, and if he were capable of true wickedness, no amount of punishment could have set him right.

Of course, correction was a word too generous for a man his age. Yet, among the nobles, surprisingly many were like him—adults in appearance but children at heart.

I stared at him, letting these thoughts drift through my mind.

Then Hellstar asked, “Would you like a cup of tea?”

My throat was dry, so I nodded. He rose, fetched the teapot and tea leaves with practiced motions, and started to brew. In just a few days, he moved through the room as though he owned it.

When the scent of tea reached me, Hellstar extended a steaming cup. “Here. Drink this.”

“With pleasure,” I said.

The tea was black, tinged with red, hot enough to steam, yet I drank it in one swallow.

Hellstar’s eyes widened. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I can handle hot drinks,” I said.

“I see. How does it taste?” he inquired.

“It’s just right.”

His face lit with subtle satisfaction.

“Why are you like this?” I asked.

He chuckled. “That’s a compliment to me. I used to be terrible at tea—probably closer to muddy water than a proper drink. But Professor Betty taught me while I’ve been staying at the academy.”

Hellstar poured tea into his cup, his voice slightly hesitant. “It reminds me of my childhood.”

“Your childhood? Ah. So you were once a student too. Did you attend Cartel Academy?”

“Not exactly. I went to a religious school run by the Seventy-Two Churches. I wasn’t thinking about school, though. I was reminded of a dream I had when I came of age,” Hellstar explained.

“A dream when you came of age?” I repeated.

“I was quite fond of children when I was younger.”

I fell silent again and stared at him in puzzlement.

Hellstar awkwardly scratched his temple. “I’m just saying, that’s how I was.”

I nodded and lifted my teacup. Hellstar filled it silently.

This time, I sipped more deliberately, trying to arrange my thoughts. The right words never came, so I spoke whatever surfaced: “You came to your senses before it was too late.”

“Is that so? I’m already over forty,” he remarked.

I drew a sharp breath. He looked like he was in his thirties, younger than his age suggested. Still, aside from the initial shock, my thoughts remained unchanged. Age had never mattered in matters of enlightenment, whether thirty, forty, or fifty.

“I’ve had my fill.” I turned serious. “Bishop Hellstar, I have an urgent request of you.”

“What is it?” he asked.

I took out the chalice and set it on the table. “Can you infuse this with divine power?”

“Hmm? This looks familiar…” Hellstar’s eyes narrowed briefly, then he let out a thoughtful sound. “Wasn’t this item on display at the auction house?”

He had also participated in the Abyss Auction.

“That’s right,” I said briefly. “It’s a Holy Grail.”

“A Holy Grail? Hahaha.”

Does he think I am joking?

Hellstar chuckled, then froze when he noticed my expression. “Are you serious?”

“I enjoy a good joke, but I’m serious this time,” I replied flatly.

“May I examine it?”

“Of course.”

The moment I gave permission, Hellstar lifted the Holy Grail. His casual demeanor slowly gave way to careful scrutiny as he inspected every detail. Ten minutes passed before he let out a shocked gasp, stammering, “T-this is really a Holy Grail?!”

“That’s right.”

“H-how did you acquire this?”

“I bought it at the Abyss Auction. You saw it too,” I answered.

“I did! But how did you recognize this shabby cup as a Holy Grail? Even I didn’t realize until I examined it closely…” he muttered.

If not for Lise’s advice, I would have dismissed it as a simple antique and stored it away in a warehouse.

“I have a good eye,” I lied smoothly. “Anyway, I heard that to activate the Holy Grail, you need to pour wine into it and infuse it with a strong dose of divine power. Is that correct?”

I just wanted to make sure what I heard from Lise was correct.

Hellstar nodded at my words. “That is true, but it doesn’t have to be wine.”

“Really? That’s good to know.” I grinned. “I am slightly lacking in proficiency when it comes to my blessing. I hope you can help me, Bishop Hellstar.”

“It isn’t difficult, but…” Hellstar swallowed hard and spoke cautiously. “Could you perhaps donate the Holy Grail to the Seventy-Two Churches after using it?”

I raised my hand. “Do you want to get hit?”

Hellstar immediately lowered his head. “I’m sorry.”

I fixed my gaze on the top of his head. “My schedule is tight, so I hope you can do it as soon as possible. How long will it take?”

“At least one day to maximize the effect. I also need to amplify my divine power through prayer,” he replied.

“Okay. Then can I come back tomorrow at this time?” I inquired.

“Yes, that will be enough.”

I nodded. “I understand. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Ah, wait.”

“What is it?”

Hellstar stopped me just as I was about to leave. “Charon Woodjack has woken up.”

***

As I had told Seren, I would head to the Hero Society.

Normally, I wouldn’t have shared my destination with anyone. I never expected to have company on this journey. That had been my mindset ever since I regressed. After all, the mission to catch Senior Brother He Lou and deliver him to my master was hardly something I could explain to others.

However, after everything I had experienced and uncovering the truths of the world, my perspective had changed. The turning point had been the Otherworld behind the academy. If I had faced that alone, it would have ended in tragedy.

I acknowledged that reality and reached a clear conclusion: there was a limit to fighting alone. I needed allies I could trust, people who could stand with me when the stakes were high. Charon was one of those people. I wanted him to come to the Hero Society with me.

By the way, Charon, whom I hadn’t seen in a long time, didn’t look well. There were no visible injuries, yet he seemed distant, lost in thought.

Charon sat on the bed, staring blankly out the window. His left eye drifted without focus, and his right had already lost its sight. Once famed for the keenest senses among the hero disciples, he failed to notice me standing there. Only after I rapped on the open door several times did he finally turn his gaze my way.

“Ah—”

Before he could speak, I tossed the item I had brought.

Charon’s focus snapped back, and he caught it calmly. “This…?”

“It’s a visiting gift,” I said.

It was an elixir I had obtained from the auction house. Some of the elixirs I had acquired this time offered little benefit if I used them immediately. This one was among them.

Charon asked, “Isn’t this valuable?”

“I don’t know. I forgot the price,” I admitted.

“I’ll make good use of it,” he said.

I gave a rough nod, then noticed something odd. “Did someone come by?”

“My father stopped by for a while,” he replied.

Charon’s words made me narrow my eyes. His father was Hyde Woodjack, the strongest ranger in the empire. The name alone unsettled me. I had never once heard of him leaving the Swamp.

Was he so worried about his son that he rushed all the way to the capital? That seemed unlikely. In the past that had since vanished, Hyde hadn’t shown up even when the entire training camp had been slaughtered. Besides, Charon’s expression didn’t resemble that of someone who had just received a visit in the infirmary.

“I need to go back to the Swamp for a while,” Charon said.

“Is that so?”

Charon changed the subject. “What are you going to do now?”

It struck me that I had been asked that question too often these days. I answered, “I’m going to the Hero Society.”

“The Hero Society…” Charon turned the elixir bottle in his hand. “I plan to go there too. It’s just… difficult right now.”

“Does Sir Hyde want you to return first?”

“Yes. But this choice is mine. When I return, I’ll tell my father myself. I’m not ready to take over the family business yet. I want to see more of the world,” Charon replied.

I felt conflicted. If he had been forced back to the Swamp against his will, I would have argued for him. Since he chose it himself, I had nothing left to say. A decision like that deserved respect.

“I heard you went to great lengths for my treatment,” Charon said. “You personally sought out and persuaded a Bishop of the Seventy-Two Churches.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Charon bowed to me. “I’ll definitely repay this debt.”

“Yes. You have to grow stronger.”

“I will.”

We sat together a little longer, exchanging a few words, until I rose to leave. I walked down the hall while thinking, Things are messy.

The moment I tried to make friends, the people around me slipped away one by one. Among the hero disciples, I could count no more than five, and I had already lost two of them. At least, I would meet Seren and Charon again.

Hector probably has no intention of going to the Hero Society. His ambition pointed him toward becoming the head of the Badniker family, so he would almost certainly return there. What can I do? I have no choice but to go to the Hero Society alone.

“I finally found you!” A loud voice rang out just as I had resigned myself to the thought. Someone appeared at the far end of the hallway.

“Don’t run in the hallway!” I snapped.

“I-I’m sorry!” The small figure, stomping forward with heavy steps, instantly lightened her pace. Her stride changed to quick, tapping steps.

I had forgotten she was still around.

“Mir,” I greeted.

“It’s me! Luan! You’re here! Where have you been the past few days?” she asked.

I ignored her question and asked, “Are you free?”

She tilted her head, puzzled. “Huh? I guess so?”

I studied her. “Do you want to go to the Hero Society with me?”

“The Hero Society? Well, sure!”

Good. For now, I have one companion.

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