CHAPTER 112: SMALL BUSINESS, JUST TO GIVE BACK TO SOCIETY

“Archdeacon Wayne, do you want—”

“Just Wayne,” Wayne interrupted. “I’m hired by the Church of Heavenly Father as an individual.”

If he offered help to Keith as the Archdeacon, it would be a collaboration between the Church of Nature and the Church of Heavenly Father through the official channels, and most of the benefits would be claimed by the higher-ups; his personal interests wouldn’t be guaranteed. He had to set clear boundaries upfront, or he would rather not get involved.

“Very well, Mr. Wayne. What do you want?”

I want holy light!

One more language learned opened a new world, and one more skill acquired created another path. In the Chosen Land, faith magic was language. The Book of Greed ensured Wayne’s linguistic talent, giving him a natural advantage in learning more.

“Normally, I’d ask for money.”

“Wonderful. I’ll—”

“But!” Wayne’s dramatic pause made Keith’s eye twitch. Everything was fine until the ‘but’. Whatever couldn’t be solved with money was trouble.

“I know the Church of Heavenly Father isn’t having an easy time in Windsor. Talking about money can make it difficult to conduct business. If it shows on the accounts, and your higher-ups notice and hold you accountable, I’ll suffer as well.” Wayne grabbed Keith’s arm, suggesting a trip to the cathedral in Cambrook.

As he had mentioned, he held literature in high regard and loved things with historical significance—like antiques, for instance.

Keith smiled wryly as he bade Julian farewell. He could already foresee the trip leading to heavy losses.

There was a difference between antiques. He could only hope that Wayne lacked culture and chose seemingly precious jewelry while overlooking the plain-looking yet truly valuable items.

***

Saint Dominic’s Cathedral.

The Church of Heavenly Father had an incredibly long history in the Chosen Land, its influence covering an entire continent. It was also the most mainstream belief. Setting aside the smaller chapels, any of its cathedrals embodied a long history and outstanding artistic value. Saint Dominic’s Cathedral was no exception, with its white marble exterior, massive dome, exquisite rose windows, and magnificent sculptures everywhere; the cathedral itself was a priceless treasure.

Saint Dominic’s Cathedral was, naturally, named after a saint called Dominic. He was documented in theological texts as deeply faithful and accomplished. To protect a city, he bravely stood against the evil gods from hell, fighting until his last drop of blood without falling.

Legend had it that his corpse remained standing with his sword in hand, frightening the demons so much that they dared not approach and voluntarily retreated to hell. His sacrifice earned the Heavenly Father’s approval. An angel personally descended to guide his soul to heaven, where he was transformed into one of the angels in the scriptures.

It was hard to say whether the tale was true, but that was what the books claimed, and there was indeed a saint named Dominic.

Wayne marveled at the extravagant decorations as he entered the cathedral.

Before transmigrating, he had found churches ridiculously over the top in their designs—the church that once dominated Europe was filthy rich. However, they were nothing compared to the churches of the Chosen Land. They elevated money-grabbing to an art form.

No wonder the Windsor royal family went after the Church of Heavenly Father. Not only the commoners, but even the landowners’ surplus wealth ended up in the hands of the church. What would be left for the royal family when the church had both money and prestige?

Knock them down! They had to be knocked down a peg. Otherwise, the royal family would be reduced to beggars!

Like the base of the Church of Nature, the cathedral was packed with clergy members. They weren’t ordinary followers but mages turned disciples, with nearly everyone knowing some holy light magic. Given the religious context, it was more appropriate to call it divine arts.

Wayne followed Bishop Keith, pausing along the way. He saw many young men and women in white robes, all appearing to be in their twenties or thirties. He guessed that they were students from the theology college of the university, with a batch coming to the cathedral for internships daily.

That made sense. Rules were rules, but people could bend rules for their purposes. They couldn’t teach faith-based magic in the college, but they could preach in the cathedral.

“What are you looking for, Mr. Wayne?” Keith asked in confusion. Wayne had a weird look in his eyes, and he had been nodding one moment and shaking his head the next, making Keith feel like his faith was being insulted.

“Looking for little boys,” Wayne blurted out, then realized that the joke was too dark and offensive for a clergyman. He quickly amended, “I mean, the little angels in the choir. I heard that churches often organized such gatherings...”

He was only making it worse. Keith’s mouth twitched as he dryly explained, “Mr. Wayne, a few special cases can’t represent the whole. Every church has its perverts.”

Then he launched into an incomprehensible rant about centuries-old records and divine punishment, his unconfident tone making Wayne laugh silently. The church had too many skeletons in its closet, which could be simply attributed to its excessive power.

Unchecked power often led to freaks and perverts so outrageous that while they might not be unprecedented, they were definitely innovative in their wrongdoings.

Keith was well aware of how despicable the church’s dark history was—so much so that even he, a clergyman, found it hard to stomach. He awkwardly glossed over the topic and led Wayne to the warehouse.

It was located in the garden behind the cathedral. Entry required Keith’s personal signature, and he had to sign even when he entered himself. Since he was bringing an outsider this time, he had to add another signature as a guarantee.

The warehouse was divided into three sections based on the value of the items, with the third section housing the most priceless collections.

Books! In any era, knowledge was the priceless treasure. Only by monopolizing knowledge could the powers that be establish and enforce the rules of the age.

Wayne suspected that there were a fourth, fifth, and even sixth sections to the warehouse. Instead of rushing, he went to the bookshelves to browse the church’s precious collection. It could be broadly divided into two categories: first, theology, covering heaven and hell as well as faith magic; second, history, including well-known official histories and some unverifiable unofficial records that mixed truth and fiction.

This was the foundation of the Church of Heavenly Father. Many historians needed the church’s historical materials to deduce what had happened.

Wayne was very interested in the history of the world, so he changed his request: “I was careless when negotiating earlier. I’d like to add another condition: let me borrow ancient texts from here. Don’t worry. I’ll return exactly what I borrow. You can vouch for me. If there’s any problem, come to me.”

If there is a problem, where would I find you?!

Keith remained noncommittal, hovering between yes and no without giving a clear answer.

Wayne raised an eyebrow and nodded. “I understand the rules. I’ll help you catch the followers of the Thousand-Eyed Demon, so you won’t suffer losses. If you don’t believe me, Bishop, you may ask around in Londan. I’m most trustworthy in doing business. You get what you pay for. I’ve never received a bad review.”

He was confident in that. Silvia and Planck both gave him five-star reviews after using him. Auston was an exception; the immoral man gave him bad reviews without even trying the service, so his opinion should be ignored. Don’t even mention the Lord of the Void. He was a villain, and a dead villain at that.

“You run a business, Mr. Wayne?”

“I sell socks. Just a small business. It doesn’t make a lot, only something to give back to society.”

Selling socks was indeed a small business that wouldn’t make much money. Keith didn’t ask for more details. He had received orders from the higher-ups to unconditionally agree to all of Wayne’s requests. Lending books wasn’t a difficult requirement to meet, so he nodded in agreement. Then he turned around and continued forward, taking Wayne to the fourth section of the warehouse.

Why don’t you keep asking?! Wayne thought with disappointment. Keith hadn’t asked what kind of socks he sold, ending the topic abruptly and depriving him of a chance to show off. Darcy was better. His excellent subordinate knew how to flatter him smoothly.

Still, the Bishop was an honest man!

Wayne quietly made the assessment. Faced with his negotiation for a higher price, Keith neither haggled nor concealed the existence of the fourth section. In this materialistic age, honest people like him were few and far between. This was a rare opportunity. He had to get a better deal today!

He felt no guilt. This was how business worked. Sellers were profit-driven, and if honest people were unable to bargain for themselves, they deserved to pay the stupidity tax.

Keith stopped at a white wall at the end of the warehouse, removing the cross hanging from his neck and starting to murmur under his breath. White light glowed, and a pentagram magic circle lit up on the wall, combined with the holy cross in a pattern that was characteristic of the Church of Heavenly Father.

Keith pressed the cross against the wall. The holy cross on the magic circle remained unchanged while the pentagram rotated clockwise once, and a door slowly opened.

“This is the sealed treasury of Saint Dominic’s Cathedral. It houses a large collection of faith artifacts from clergy members, as well as heirlooms from nobles of various eras. Mr. Wayne, you may choose one item.” Keith looked at the treasure, speaking with obvious reluctance in his voice.

“Are their faith artifacts from other churches?” Wayne asked.

“No.” Keith shook his head. Those had been sent to the headquarters.

Wayne didn’t think much of it and continued asking, “Are there any items related to evil god worship?”

“A few. This way.”

The fourth section of the warehouse contained eight shelves. The items related to evil gods were placed in a separate corner. Wayne glanced at them. Most were bottles and jars, all previously opened. Even the evil artifacts that were well-preserved showed varying degrees of damage.

In other words, they were all junk.

He didn’t waste his time further and skipped the shelf for nobles’ heirlooms, going straight to the shelf for holy light artifacts. Keith introduced each of them like a connoisseur. Every artifact had its own story.

“These sacred tomes are left by the previous bishops, imbued with their devout faith. Each one is a treasure and a bane to the evil gods from hell. You should consider them, Mr. Wayne.” Keith was acting like an eager salesman.

Wayne reached out to touch them. The tomes indeed had a holy aura, but the fact that the Book of Greed remained quiet indicated that they were just ordinary artifacts.

“This is a holy knight sword, a holy relic brought from the Papal State by a former bishop. Very powerful,” Keith said expressionlessly.

Wayne couldn’t stand leaving a knightly sword untouched. He picked it up and swung it around, but no good; the Book of Greed didn’t even look at it, too lazy to speak up.

We’re not meant to be!

Not every knightly sword was the inheritance of a chosen knight. The Church of Heavenly Father might have similar inheritances, but they certainly wouldn’t have left it in a small diocese like Cambrook County.

“This is a Holy Chalice used by Pope Noah III, a sacred artifact and supreme treasure that has been stored in the cathedral for hundreds of years,” Keith said with a grimace.

The chalice was made of gold, decorated with silver cross patterns and sparkling diamonds, its artistic value quite high. It was so large that ordinary people would need both hands to hold it, but Wayne lifted it with one hand. The Book of Greed darted its eye, confirming that the item was decent.

Take it. There’s profit to be made.

He was about to say he wanted it when he caught something on the top shelf from his peripheral vision. He lowered the chalice and pointed at a wooden box above. “Bishop Keith, what’s in that box...”

“Just a shroud!” Keith’s face distorted, his eyes bloodshot as if possessed.

Wayne’s eyes twitched. His intuition told him that the shroud was the best treasure, but it also told him to stop, or the other party was ready to fight to the death. Actually, he didn’t even need his intuition. He could see that on the man’s face.

“You’re overreacting, Bishop Keith,” he said with an awkward smile. “I was just asking. I wasn’t planning to take it.”

Keith’s expression became a little less twisted. Although the higher-ups told him to agree to all of Wayne’s requests, no matter if it was reasonable, the Holy Shroud had once wrapped Saint Dominic’s remains and was extremely precious. It could be considered the cathedral’s greatest treasure. Even if his superiors said yes, he would never give it away.

“May I take a look at the shroud, Bishop Keith?”

“It’s just a rag. Nothing to look at.”

...Good grief, is that what a clergyman should say?

Wayne rolled his eyes, having his speculation reaffirmed. He chose not to press and settled on taking the Holy Chalice as his payment for the job. With the deal made, Keith let out a heavy sigh of relief, returning to being the agreeable bishop.

Wayne didn’t understand the source of Keith’s concern. Although he could take the shroud by force, he wasn’t that kind of person. Keith didn’t have to worry.

“Mr. Wayne, let me introduce you to Pope Noah III’s Holy Chalice.” Keith smiled as he led Wayne away from the fourth section of the warehouse, closing and sealing the door in one smooth motion with remarkable speed. “Unlike others before him, Noah III lived in a chaotic era. In the early sixteenth century, demons from hell came to our world in full force, spreading numerous evil faiths in the mortal realm...”

“That was the dark age. The church suffered heavy losses. Countless clergy members died at the claws of demons.”

Keith made the sign of the cross on his chest and continued, “Pope Noah III was a man with an iron will. He created seven Holy Chalices to hold evil blood for concentrated purification. The chalice is one of them. Toiling in darkness while serving the light, it’s a sacred artifact.”

Wayne hadn’t taken the Holy Chalice with him today. This trip was only meant to confirm Keith’s offer. He would claim the chalice after completing the job. He nodded and asked, “What about the shroud?”

“...”

“I don’t mean anything by it, just asking out of pure curiosity.”

“The Holy Shroud was used to wrap Saint Dominic’s remains. The saint is also the source of the cathedral’s name. He died fighting demons. If Mr. Wayne is interested, I have a biography of the saint I can lend you.” Keith still hadn’t lowered his guard.

“Lend me more.” Wayne took the opportunity to raise his price. “I saw some interesting history books earlier.”

This was a classic case of the door-in-the-face technique[1]. The books were originally only to be lent after Wayne completed the job, but they became immediately available due to Keith’s relief at having protected the Holy Shroud. He agreed to Wayne’s request immediately.

Wayne carefully selected five books from the bookshelf, wrapping each in cotton paper.

“As I said before, I won’t participate in the investigation, only the capture. Call me anytime. Let’s be honest with each other, Bishop Keith. Do you have any leads?”

“Yes. Julian provided me with a list.” Keith sighed. “It’s shameful to admit, but the followers of the Thousand-Eyed Demon are very likely hiding within the theology college. The students have been exposed to too many mythologies. As they yearn for heaven, they inevitably become fascinated with hell.”

Wayne shrugged. Free mages didn’t have such troubles.

1. The raw cites the Broken Window Theory, but that’s about how visible signs of crimes, while trivial, encourage more crimes, which doesn’t fit this situation. ☜