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n“So, I’m a sun-**er? I must say, I have never heard such a word before, but it’s really ingenious. It does make sense.” Sylvester stepped out of the cupboard, where he hid for more than an hour for this very moment.

nIn an instant, the little meeting room was in an uproar. Sylvester was surprised to see, however, that there was an extra person who had not spoken all the way until now. A woman in a wizard’s robes.

n“Don’t get up. After all, I’m just a lowly priest. But, while at it, why don’t I also chop my head and place it on your table? That way, you can get that bounty easily—right? Fucking heathens!” In an instant, his face turned from all smiles to fearsome.

nEveryone in the room shuddered in fear, not knowing what might happen next.

n“You killed the previous Archpriest and took his place? Also, four more priests? What about the monthly funds the monastery receives from the Holy Land? Did you eat them? Wait, let me guess, Chief Kennard is a fat healthy man. It must be in his belly—just a minute, let me gut him and take it out.”

nSylvester took out a knife from his robes and walked towards Chief Kennard, who was horrified and tried to stand up but fell back each time. His legs had given up in fear.

n“Priest… please hear us first.” Sir Holand spoke quickly, trying to calm the situation. “There is a reason why we hate the Church so much. It’s not you who we hate…and that plan of bounty killing was of Chief’s.”

nSylvester nodded and took the seat of Chief Kennard. “Speak!”

nSir Holand was the only man Sylvester could somewhat respect because the man had acted reasonably previously on his orders. Not only that, he was also against killing him.

n“This is from fifteen years ago. We had just received the news that a large horde of desert cannibals was coming toward the town. We got busy fortifying ourselves and putting defense mechanisms around the walls.

n“We were sure about protecting ourselves, for we had created the walls just for that sake. We had oil, arrows, and spears ready to kill them all. But, when they were about to surround us… the… the Archpriest of the monastery—that bastard! He and his staff killed the guards and opened the gates to escape with their belongings in a carriage. However… they left the gates open since they could only be closed from inside.

n“By the time we tried to close it, the desert cannibals were entering the town in crowds, killing and burning all they could find. They ransacked homes, r*ped mothers and daughters, played around by making men run and then hunt them… they ate newborns…the horrors are still fresh as if it all happened yesterday.”

nSir Holand took a sip of water and continued. “The men you see in the town are the lucky ones who the cannibals decided to take as slaves. All the other old ones and young ones were murdered. While the women… they suffered the worst of fate, for their souls were murdered in the three days the town was occupied.

n“But thanks to an adventurer named Jax, we were able to survive even that, as he brought us food and medicines in secrecy. Only when King Highland arrived did he butcher the cannibals and end their tyranny. But the damage had already been done. We were broken from mind and body. We later raised our woes with the Church as well, but we were ignored, and our words never reached the Holy Land.

n“All of us here were staunch followers of Solis before—it was you people who destroyed our faith—we didn’t deserve those three days of hell!”

nSylvester had never expected it, but today, he saw tears in the eyes of a tall, strong old man. These were real tears of pain and frustration.

nSylvester sighed and relaxed back. “I don’t care.”

n“What?” Sir Holand glared.

n“I don’t care if you believe in Solis or not. I can understand why you would fall out of faith. It can happen to anyone. But…What you did in that hate is something I cannot accept. You killed five clergymen and still plan to kill more. I’m afraid those are crimes you must pay for. As for the Archpriest years ago responsible for breaking the city’s defense. Tell me his name, and you shall have retribution.” Sylvester remarked.

n“He’s a bishop now… we know him! His name is Richmond Donaris.” Sir Holand answered.

nSylvester nodded and took out a small diary-like booklet and wrote down the name on it with a piece of charcoal he kept. “He will be brought to justice. You have my word for it. But in the case here, the fake Archpriest Oliver and Chief Kennard must die for their sins. That’s the holy law of the land.”

n“Isn’t that too much? The town’s folks will revolt!” Finally, the woman spoke.

nSylvester glared back. “Do you know what would have happened to this town if you had successfully harmed me? The Inquisitors would have raged this place to the ground. No rape, no pillaging, everything would have been burned down, and all people, regardless of age and gender, would have been killed.”

nThe four adults in the room gulped some cold air down and looked at each other’s faces. Sylvester stood up and decided to head out. “Decide what you must do. I will keep doing my work—heal the poor who have suffered. But, remember, I cannot lie when I report back to the Holy Land, so you better choose your options wisely.

n“Take care, and may the holy light enlighten your paths.”

nThere was an eerie silence on the roof after he left. Sir Holand looked at the fake Archpriest and Chief Kennard in anger as they had brought this upon them. “Happy now? I am calling the Town Council to meet immediately. Until then, you two are to be held under house arrest right here.”

n“You have no authority to do such a thing!” Chief Kennard barked, raging in anger.

nSir Holand agreed. “I know, but once the Town Council knows why I did it, they will only thank me.”

nHe walked closer to Chief Kennard. “How could you plan to kill him after he saved your son? How does that make us any better from that Archpriest years ago?

n“Lady Merisa, let’s go. Your healing talents are wasted on these two.”

nThe woman, Lady Merisa, glanced at Chief Kennard and Fake Archpriest and spoke in disgust. “They say it right, you reap what you sow, so there is no point in crying in sorrow. You wished to kill him, and the tables merely turned, be thankful you’re not going out the church’s way of doing things—burned!”

n…

nSylvester saw the sun rising slowly in the sky. It was not cloudy today, so the fresh blue sky looked starkly beautiful today. People were walking around him as the Chief’s house was in the best part of the town.

nHe looked at the faces of the people, most of them were smiling or were just normal, but he wondered how much pain and suffering they hid beneath it. ‘Why does the Church sometimes appear to be the real enemy of mankind to me? It should be the opposite.’

nStill, he was not too harsh on the Church because what happened to the Sphinx Town was the responsibility of the local County’s Archbishop. The fact that he didn’t forward the complaints puts him in as much sin as the Archpriest, who let the cannibals in. If the one to hear of this transgression was Lord Inquisitor, Pope, or any Guardian of Light, he could imagine instant justice.

n‘I should have their names in my final report. Knowing Saint Wazir reads them, some action will likely be taken.’

n“Ah! Lord Healer! Why are you standing here?” All of a sudden, a womanly voice interrupted his thought.

nUpon looking, he noticed a chubby, middle-aged woman with a face full of smiles. “Yes, do you need any help?”

n“Hehe, no dear… here, take this cheese, I cute it freshly! Thank you for helping the sick.” The woman handed him a round block of cheese and just left, humming.

nAs absurd as it was, he thanked her and walked away. But, he was again stopped, this time by a tall, muscular man with a beard to envy him for.

n“Haha, Lord Healer, take this… fine Silk cloth. I just finished working on it. It will suit your blonde hair.” The man handed him a roll of red silk cloth and walked away happily.

n“…”

nSylvester was dumbfounded. This was the first time people were being so kind to him in this town. In fact, I was too kind. ‘Did I do something too good?’

n“My Lord Healer! Have some fresh fruit. You need all the energy possible for your fabulous work.”

n“…”

n“Honey, take some apple pie I made… Thank you for your hard work.”

n“…”

n“Are you married, Lord Healer? What do you think about my daughter? She’s ripe fourteen.”

n“…”

nThis time Sylvester ran as fast as he could, as things were going out of hand. He had no idea what he had done or how so many people knew about him suddenly, but one thing he did know was that fame was not always a good game.

n“My Lord, would you like to sharpen your blade? I will do it for free.”

nWhen a blacksmith stopped him, Sylvester decided to get to the end of this ruckus. “Thank you, but can you tell me why you are doing this? So many people have given me things.”

n“Bwahaha…” the old blacksmith laughed. “You don’t know? My grandson just returned and told me that…”

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