Chapter 74: The Connection Between Agnes and Flora
The Druids wanted to throw a welcome celebration for Abyss, but he declined. It wasn’t time for celebration yet. While his accomplishments were significant, it wasn’t a victory, merely damage control.
Fortunately, the Druids weren’t overly concerned with formalities. They thanked Abyss and dispersed, having much to do now that the Sacred Tree was recovering. The Druid gathering could finally return to normal.
Only Arcaiste remained with Abyss and his companions. His expression turned somber again, clearly remembering Abyss’s earlier words.
“Master Belator, do you still require Miss Agnes’s power?”
Abyss nodded casually, not bothering with pleasantries. “Indeed, I still need her power. And frankly, I don’t believe the continent’s current problems can be solved without it.”
Arcaiste looked at Abyss questioningly.
“You must realize the shadow looming over the continent, right? An Outer God. Our own gods won’t interfere in mortal affairs. Only someone who truly understands nature can avert this impending disaster,” Abyss said, his gaze intense.
“I understand,” Arcaiste said, suddenly moving closer to Abyss, almost nose to nose.
Leona, watching, gasped in surprise, seemingly reminded of something.
“Master Arcaiste, is there something you need to say privately?” Abyss remained calm.
“Yes, I need an answer from you,” Arcaiste’s gaze sharpened as he used magic to lower his voice. “You’re not a Druid, are you?”
The three girls beside Abyss were startled.
“How did you realize I’m not a Druid?” Abyss smiled. “I thought it was normal for a sufficiently skilled Druid to seek the wisdom of past masters.”
Unlike his companions, Abyss felt no sense of danger. He admitted his identity much more readily than Arcaiste had anticipated.
“Your behavior is indeed very similar to a Druid’s,” Arcaiste pulled back slightly, embarrassed by his forwardness. “You value balance, you’re easygoing, a pragmatist, and you lack those typical human flaws. I admire these qualities; my colleagues do as well. But I noticed one particular trait.”
“Oh? What trait?” Abyss seemed intrigued.
“Miss Flora,” Arcaiste sighed. “First, I must apologize. Unable to contain my curiosity, I investigated Miss Flora. I learned she’s the former Saint of the Church. Now that she’s with you, your true school is obvious.”
“Eh? Me?” Flora was startled. “Did I do something strange? I’m sorry…”
“Not at all. There are many women named Flora, and the Western Empire has no shortage of blonde beauties. You haven’t displayed any power from the Church, so you shouldn’t have been noticed. Even if you acted like a Saint, no one should have recognized you; very few people have actually met you up close,” Arcaiste quickly waved his hand, using magic to completely muffle their conversation. “But unfortunately, we have a record of you.”
“A record?” Flora was bewildered.
“Why would the Druid gathering keep records of the Saint? I’m curious,” Abyss asked with a smile.
“It wasn’t the gathering that kept the Saint’s records, but Miss Agnes,” Arcaiste said, his eyes filled with nostalgia. “You might not know, but I was Miss Agnes’s classmate and friend. When she was Grand Sage, I was her assistant, perhaps the closest person to her.”
“Of course, there were no romantic feelings between us. I must clarify this; I don’t want any misunderstandings.”
Arcaiste added, his emotions more apparent now. Abyss could see his immense respect for Agnes. It seemed the Grand Sage truly didn’t want his admiration tainted.
“In the last six months of her life, she planned to visit you at the Church, Miss Flora. But she didn’t go immediately; there were frequent natural disasters, and the Druid gathering was busy, so she couldn’t find the time or the opportunity to submit a request to the Church.”
“So, to prepare for her eventual meeting with you, she compiled detailed information about you, exceptionally detailed. I once asked her why, but she remained silent, as if it were a secret she couldn’t share.”
“She was very sincere and a close friend, so I believed she had her reasons and didn’t press further. But six months later, she perished fighting a tsunami. The information she had gathered on the Saint became part of her legacy.”
“I recently became suspicious of Master Belator’s identity, and seeing Miss Flora, someone who seemed familiar, I couldn’t resist reviewing Agnes’s belongings. I was surprised to find that the Saint’s description in the records perfectly matched Miss Flora.”
“Agnes collected information on Flora? That’s unexpected,” Abyss was also surprised.
“So, Master Belator, you’re actually a Necromancer, aren’t you?” Arcaiste asked solemnly.
Abyss readily admitted, “Yes, since you’ve guessed, I must confess. I’m a Necromancer. I came to the Druid gathering not only to solve your problems but also to bring back Agnes.”
The three girls held their breath, fearing Arcaiste would expel Abyss. The Druidic and Necromantic schools were diametrically opposed; any display of disgust from Arcaiste was possible.
But Arcaiste showed no aversion. He sighed instead. “Honestly, I’m willing to help you, but Miss Agnes’s body no longer exists.”
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