'What can I do to get my hands on that magic trait?'
The Scripture was sothing priests carried with them at all tis, using it for recitation and spellcasting. There was no way he could just ask for it outright...
Shane quietly pushed himself up from the hard floor and carefully stepped over the snoring rchant uncle.
The moon hung high in the sky.
The monastery was silent.
Aside from the snoring from the small wooden cabin behind him, there were only the occasional chirps of insects and the rustling of leaves in the wind.
Following the faint light, Shane arrived outside Beryl's study.
Scratch, scratch—
A small oil lamp sat on the wooden desk. Beryl was seated before it, holding a quill, continuously copying sothing down.
Perhaps because the light was dim, or perhaps due to his age and failing eyesight, he would set down the quill after writing each line, pick up the book in front of him, bring it closer to the lamp, squint at it for a while, then set it down again before continuing to write.
As a result, the scratching sound of the pen on paper beca intermittent.
Shane quietly listened to the movents inside, thinking about what to do.
Say he wanted to learn magic?
But such advanced goddess magic required one to beco a priest in order to learn and use it. He wasn't ready to give up worldly desires just yet.
And yet… he couldn't just ignore such an incredible trait right in front of him.
Unlike those basic healing or disease-detection spells, [Goddess's Barrier] was practically a divine artifact.
If he ever encountered a powerful enemy in the future, he could just hide in so random corner, activate the barrier, and even soone at Frieren's level wouldn't be able to find him—let alone ordinary monsters.
Unless the Demon King revived, he'd basically be invincible.
A spell of this level—he had to find a way to obtain it!
Inside the room, the priest remained unaware of Shane beneath the window, fully focused on copying the text.
One page, two pages, three pages…
The oil lamp was refilled several tis, yet the priest never stopped writing.
Hoo—
Hoo—
"Hm? Where is that snoring coming from?"
After an unknown amount of ti, the priest was interrupted by the sudden sound of snoring. He slowly stood up from the desk, walked to the window, and leaned out to take a look.
At that mont, Shane was half-sitting against the wall, having unknowingly fallen asleep.
The priest smiled faintly and said nothing. He turned back, took his coat from the back of his chair, and gently draped it over Shane.
…
The next day.
Shane jolted awake and sat up abruptly.
He looked around in confusion. It was still the sa small wooden cabin where everyone had rested the night before, and he was still in the sa spot on the floor where he had fallen asleep.
"When did I co back? Or… was it all just a dream? Did I never go out at all?"
As he muttered to himself, Frieren walked in.
She handed him a small piece of black bread and said expressionlessly,
"The old priest said you didn't sleep well last night, so he told you to rest more. This is the breakfast he left for you."
After saying that, Frieren turned to leave. But when she reached the doorway, she looked back and added,
"Please sleep properly at night. The old priest already has trouble moving, and carrying you was quite hard for him. Don't cause trouble for the elderly."
She gave Shane a serious look before leaving.
"…"
Shane scratched his head.
What kind of absurd situation was this?
And what was up with that old man? Seeing soone appear outside his room in the middle of the night and not asking anything, even carrying him back? That was way too trusting!
"No! If I want that life-saving magic, I need to co up with a plan fast!"
After thinking it over, he decided to get closer to the priest during the day—build so rapport and play the emotional angle.
…
Back at the study.
Beryl sat at the wooden desk just like the night before, diligently copying a text.
Perhaps due to long hours of work, he would stop every few lines to rub his eyes or his neck.
Shane pushed the door open and greeted him.
"Sir, may I help you copy the texts?"
Hearing this, Beryl's face lit up with a smile.
"Oh, young Shane! You want to help copy? That's wonderful—I was just in need of soone to assist."
"No problem. Where should I start?"
Under the priest's guidance, Shane held down the worn book with one hand while quickly transcribing its contents onto blank pages with the other.
The old book was filled with annotations written by the priest.
As Shane copied, Beryl explained things to him from the side.
Working together, their efficiency increased dramatically. What would have taken the priest several days to copy alone was completed by Shane in just half a day.
"Excellent, excellent. The content is complete, the handwriting is neat, and the annotations are perfectly accurate."
"You've t every requirent flawlessly, and your speed is beyond expectations. Shane, you truly are a blessing sent by the goddess."
Beryl praised him repeatedly, making Shane feel a little embarrassed.
"May I ask… why do you copy these books?"
Hearing the question, Beryl smiled and closed the book in his hands. His aged hand rested gently on the cover as he spoke solemnly:
"Because I want to pass the goddess's magic down to future generations."
He said that in his youth, he had traveled across the southern lands, witnessing soldiers wounded in war and children who died from plagues. The loss of those innocent lives had pained him deeply.
From that mont on, he resolved to dedicate his entire life to deciphering the goddess's magic—to find ways to heal more people.
"I am a priest without much talent, unknown and unremarkable. This is the greatest contribution I can make to humankind."
"Training alone in the mountains is the hardest part—the loneliness. But every ti I recite the Scripture, I gain the courage to keep going from the goddess."
"Shane, you are the most outstanding young person I've ever t. Many travelers have passed through this monastery before you, but you are the only one willing to help copy these ssy texts—and to listen to an old man's stories."
"With young people like you around, the future of humanity is truly sothing to look forward to."
As he spoke, he looked at Shane with kind, gentle eyes, patted his shoulder, and thanked him sincerely once more.
Shane felt his face burning.
What kind of developnt was this? This wasn't right! He had approached with ulterior motives, secretly coveting the man's Scripture—and yet he was t with such genuine kindness. What was he supposed to do now?
After exchanging a few awkward pleasantries, Shane made a hasty retreat.
…
"Oof."
He turned a corner too quickly and ran straight into the rchant uncle.
"Sorry, sorry."
"Ah, Shane. I was just about to look for you. We found a carriage nearby and plan to set off for Gostan City early tomorrow morning. I wanted to ask—will you and Frieren be traveling with us?"
Hearing that, Shane glanced back at the study not far away.
The struggle in his heart ultimately outweighed his desire for magic. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life regretting today.
"Alright. We'll leave together tomorrow morning."
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