Evan imdiately tensed up. "You’re going to evaluate him?"
He couldn’t help but feel nervous for the Priest Charles he hadn’t even t yet. In the Church of the Goddess of Life, which had always been known for its relaxed atmosphere, Kowal’s style still made him an outright conservative—even by the standards of many stricter churches, let alone their own.
If soone like Kowal was the judge, even Evan and Joanna might be condemned as having ’too casual an attitude toward faith,’ ’too worldly,’ or ’lacking in discipline!’
This wasn’t re paranoia—Kowal really had said things like that in earlier years. It was only after the Goddess of Life fell and most of their followers left that he stopped speaking so harshly; only because Evan and Joanna stayed till the end did the old dwarf cut them so slack.
Even Joanna, who’d been so suspicious of Charles just monts ago, couldn’t help but put in a few good words: "Just... try not to be so rigid, okay? Cut him so slack."
"Whatever criticism you have, rember—he’s not even twenty yet. He’s a young prodigy; of course there’s a bit of arrogance, or maybe he acts out sotis, or has a few girlfriends. That’s all pretty normal for soone his age."
"Don’t set such a high bar—if his heart’s in the right place, please be more tolerant!"
Kowal snorted. "Relax. I’ll believe what I see with my own eyes. I’ll judge for myself what his monastery is really like."
"If his faith is truly sincere and kind, there will always be traces left behind. On the other hand, if he’s hiding sothing, there’s no way he can cover it all up. There’s bound to be a slip!"
He’d made up his mind: for a churchmate who’d killed so many in one fell swoop, he had to use the harshest possible standard to examine his faith.
In his eyes, when the church is at its weakest, that’s exactly when they should guard the standards of belief the most fiercely. No schers should ever be allowed to sneak into their pure fellowship!
...
"Cassalanter Family?"
In the monastery scriptorium, Charles fiddled with the floating Xanathar with one finger, communicating awkwardly using telepathy.
The palm-sized baby beholder still couldn’t speak, but after being purified, it had ford a certain ntal link with him; they could communicate, at least on a basic level.
"Ah, ah!"
The mini-beholder chirped in agreent, its big central eye bobbing at Charles. He nodded, lost in thought.
Just now, Charles had asked Xanathar about the rumors saring his na—was it a cambion nad Regolas pulling the strings? He hoped to follow the trail and root out the mastermind.
But the answer was... no. Xanathar didn’t even know a Regolas, nor would it ever cooperate with a Devil’s Apostle.
The one who’d paid it to do the job was actually a noble family nad Cassalanter.
Hmm—so there was another layer to all this. Regolas didn’t have direct ties to Xanathar; instead, he’d corrupted a noble family, who in turn hired Xanathar’s Guild as a ’black glove’ to do their dirty work from the shadows.
What a complicated ss... but in truth, it made sense. This ant Regolas had even more resources and power—while being much harder to trace.
Still, if he had one last noble family backing him in Liberl Port, it ant his influence still lurked in the dark, not fully cleansed.
Once Anno ca back, he’d have her check out this Cassalanter Family and see just what they were truly capable of.
With that, he set aside the matter for now and started studying how he and the beholder might coordinate to cast spells together.
This little guy had lost too much power; it still retained so Eye Ray ability, but far fewer types and at much weaker strength than before.
Right now, the only Eye Rays Xanathar could manage were stun, frost, telekinesis, and paralysis—a limited toolset, and frankly too feeble to be of much help in high-level battles.
Yet Charles soon discovered, as he spent more ti with it, that this wasn’t necessarily a dead end.
Thanks to their symbiotic bond—magic and soul connected—he found he could channel his own magic power into it, boosting the power of its Eye Rays several tis over.
True, this left the little beholder totally exhausted after just a handful of shots, but in a fierce, high-level fight, just a few high-powered Eye Rays could turn the tide!
It was definitely research worth pursuing!
With ambition sparkling in his eyes, Charles delved into study, dreaming of this little beholder one day blazing across the battlefield.
But then a mosquito landed near his ear, and the next second Andny’s voice echoed from it: "Master, are you free now? Eldest sister has sothing urgent for you."
Charles raised an eyebrow. "I’m free, send her in."
The mosquito fell silent. Seconds later, with a shimr of gentle white light, the statuesque and elegant silhouette of Theresa appeared beside him. "Master, there’s sothing you should know."
"Go ahead."
"People from the Church of the Goddess of Life headquarters have heard about your exploits. They’ve decided to co inspect and evaluate you," Theresa explained. "It’s actually standard procedure—every year they do a checkup on the monastery, but since nothing major ever happened here, it’s always been just for show. Usually, they’d cancel or delay it for lack of staff."
Charles nodded thoughtfully. "But this year, because I’ve made such a big splash, things are a bit different, yeah?"
Theresa nodded. "Exactly. I sense this one is special—they sent their infamous hardliner, Kowal..."
Hearing that, Charles’s brow shot up. "Kowal? The dwarf?"
Theresa blinked. "Master, you know him?"
Charles nodded. "Of course. I’ve heard of him."
Dwarf Kowal—over two centuries old, a stalwart War Pastor of the Goddess of Life.
Just like most dwarves, he was stubborn, foul-tempered, fixed in his ways, and once he made up his mind, nothing could change it.
But his private character was unimpeachable, and his faith was absolutely sincere. Especially after the goddess vanished, Kowal cut his own spending to save money for the church—he even gave up drinking, making him perhaps the only teetotaler dwarf in the whole ga!
So, handling him wasn’t too hard. Just cater to his outlook, make a solid first impression—the kind you’d ’build favorability with’ in an RPG—and this guy would be a fiercely loyal ally.
Or rather, a shield. War Pastors were ant to be at the front line, taking the hits!
Sure, he nitpicked nonstop, but when trouble struck, he was the first to pick up a weapon and fight for you.
Thinking of this, Charles’s lips quirked up in a smile. "There’s not much to prepare. Just have the sisters go about their routines. Even for a stickler like Kowal, in these hard tis he can’t possibly be against us doing business to support ourselves."
Theresa nodded in relief as Charles stretched. "As for everything else, leave it to . Don’t worry about a thing."
Seeing how confident he was, Theresa finally relaxed, then glanced at the beholder. "Alright, Master, I’ll let you get back to your new little sisters."
Xanathar glared at her, clearly unhappy with her wording. It was here to help Charles experint with spells, not just to play!
But, without a chance to retort, Theresa’s body turned to white light and she disappeared back to her duties.
Charles chuckled, patting Xanathar’s central eye in comfort, as if to tell it not to sweat the small stuff.
Then he shoved the matter out of mind and continued his research: under extre conditions, just how much Mana could Xanathar handle? How many tis could it fire Eye Rays at max output?
Once he fully figured it out, his power would step up another level...
...
A few days later, around noon.
Charles was in the training room, practicing Eye Rays with Xanathar. Just then, Andny’s voice sounded in his ear, "Master, Kowal has arrived!"
"Hm?" He glanced at the clock on the wall, surprised. "At this hour? That can’t be right—there shouldn’t even be carriages running to South Harbor District at this ti. Did he really splurge and hire a private carriage?"
In this age, hiring a carriage to take you wherever you wanted was still extrely expensive, and coming out to South Harbor District especially so. Most drivers knew the district was poor, few people could afford rides, and there was basically no business to be had—so they didn’t want to co out here.
Unless a custor was truly willing to pay double, it was almost impossible to charter a ride.
"No," Andny replied, "I think he... actually walked the whole way here."
Charles’ face showed honest surprise. "Walked here? That’s... Well, I guess that fits his style."
He felt a bit sheepish, suddenly recalling how this stubbornly conservative dwarven priest believed that since the goddess had blessed him, giving him powerful spellcasting and the ability to channel Divine Power, he ought to deny himself all pleasure in daily life and devote all his strength to helping the weak and helpless.
He believed that as long as he kept to doctrine, the goddess would surely return. To that end, he lived like an ascetic monk—never using transportation, walking everywhere by foot and spell.
With that thought, Charles patted the mini-beholder’s central eye, ended their training, and let it float up to his shoulder as he strode out. "Co on, let’s go greet our distinguished guest."
anwhile, out on the streets beyond South Harbor District, a stout dwarf in a puffy priest’s robe, sporting a bright carrot-colored beard, tilted his head back to look at the monastery’s sign, as well as the Offering Porridge Room and neighboring Small Shop. He nodded slightly. "Not bad."
He couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. Since the goddess fell, they’d gone so long without a decent, large-scale porridge offering.
But what could you do? The church was broke—and when it ca to making money, he had to admit, this young man did a pretty good job.
His only fear was that, like the "suits" heading up the big multinationals, Charles might also get caught up in luxury, abandon his faith for money, and cross the line.
And as far as Kowal was concerned, having killed so many people was one serious red flag—a danger sign not to be taken lightly!
With these thoughts, he stepped forward, just about to enter the monastery’s side Small Shop, when he heard the heavy creak of a door. The massive iron gates at the front of the monastery swung open, and out walked a handso, tall young human—also wearing a priest’s robe.
Of course, from a dwarf’s point of view, just about every human male in Liberl Port looked "tall."
The young man looked down at Kowal, then broke into a broad, friendly smile. "You must be Priest Kowal? I’m Nigel Charles. Welco to our monastery!"
Kowal narrowed his eyes.
This is the one?
I barely showed up, and here he is, right away. Clearly, he’s got lookouts everywhere, and they reported my arrival the instant I set foot here. All standard procedure—looks like he’s prepared.
Heh, well, let’s see just what else you’ve got planned for my inspection!
With that, his stern face suddenly split into a wide, hearty grin as he burst out in loud laughter. "You’re Priest Charles? Haha! What an honor! Your heroic deeds have brought glory to the entire church!"
Charles grinned and walked up beside him, leading him inside the monastery. "Oh, I was just lucky, really. Compared to everyone else, I still have so much to learn."
He paused, glanced up at the sky, and added, "Besides, it’s about lunchti. Why don’t we eat first, and after lunch you can start your inspection?"
Kowal raised an eyebrow.
Hah, stalling for ti, are you?
Alright, I’ll play along—let’s see what else you can prep at the last minute!
"No problem!" Kowal replied in a hearty tone. So Charles led him inside as he explained, "It’s been a busy ti here lately, so I didn’t have the chance to organize a big feast for you."
"For lunch, the nuns just made what I usually eat, but I did ask them to make a few dishes I thought you’d enjoy. I hope you like the spread."
When he heard that, a cold chuckle rose in Kowal’s heart.
Heh, you probably think you can win over like so ordinary dwarf—like all my booze-loving kin, right?
Sorry. If you hoped to bribe with liquor, you’re out of luck. I gave up drinking entirely for my faith thirty years ago!
As a dwarf with over two centuries under his belt, naturally he’d seen every trick people tried to "buy off" dwarves. Frankly, he didn’t care for it—he even looked down on it.
Lost in thought, he followed Charles through a tiny garden and into a brand-new dining hall next to the kitchen. A rectangular table and four chairs stood inside—one distinctly tall with a small ladder attached, obviously ant for dwarves.
The table was already set with steaming plates, hot bread, and hearty stew. Kowal glanced around—there wasn’t a drop of alcohol in sight.
"Since we’re working this afternoon, I didn’t prepare any wine or spirits," Charles said apologetically. "But if you’re willing to stay until dinner this evening, I’d be glad to share a drink with you then."
At that, Kowal’s thick eyebrows shot up.
This kid really knows how to keep business and pleasure separate?
Hmm—not bad. Not the type who sched just for the sake of it.
Though he’d co here with so bias, he had to admit—reluctantly—that Charles just earned himself a few points.
"No trouble," Kowal replied honestly. "Truth is, I’m not much of a drinker myself!"
He shimmied up into the tall chair, using both hands and feet. Once seated, as he finally looked down at the table, he saw what was on offer.
Stew made with salted fish and kelp, carrots, and potatoes. Slices of raw tomato. A huge basket of bread, ready for dunking into the soup.
Kowal raised an eyebrow yet again. "This is your usual al?"
Charles nodded. "Yes. This is what I eat most days."
The dwarf gave a short, dry laugh. "Heh, that’s a pretty frugal life!"
Charles just chuckled. "Can’t really call it frugal. It’s still at—lots of nutrition—and actually tastes good. You never get tired of it."
The more explanations he heard, the more Kowal looked at Charles with a hint of contempt.
Cunning fellow—who are you trying to fool?
Like I wouldn’t know? Salted fish is one thing, but you actually use kelp?
That stuff’s notoriously disgusting—super salty, bitter, briny... even the poorest sailors can barely choke down a few bites. And you eat it every day?
Enough with the fake humility. I know exactly how rich and famous you are, plus you’ve got blue dragon sponsorship behind you!
Pretending to be a poor man, just to steal the virtue of "thrift" from the truly poor.
Hmph. Watch use this as ammo to embarrass you—complain about the food, put you on the spot!
Inwardly slapping Charles with a "Worst" rating, he kept his poker face, picked up his fork, and speared a chunk of salted fish and kelp from the stew, popping it into his mouth.
All of a sudden, shock covered his face.
What... what is this flavor?!
This was supposed to be the most wretched dish in all of Liberl Port—sothing even starving stray dogs wouldn’t touch—so why was it so incredibly delicious?!
The kelp’s signature stink was gone, leaving only a springy bite; the salted fish wasn’t at all bitter or harsh, the at tender and juicy, umami splashing across his tongue in a wave that filled his mouth.
At that instant, Kowal felt like he wasn’t sitting in a monastery dining hall, but surfing the sunlit ocean in swim trunks—bliss from head to toe!
"Oh, oh, oh—!" he couldn’t help exclaiming, startling Charles. "What is it, Priest Kowal? Burn your tongue?"
"No!" The dwarf lifted his chin, closed his eyes. "Let just savor this for a mont."
Tears actually slipped down his face.
It was just too delicious! Who the hell made this kelp? Turning garbage to gold—what a miracle of cooking...
Not until the fish’s flavor faded did he finally swallow, pull out his handkerchief to wipe his tears, and look seriously at Charles. "Who cooked this?"
Charles smiled, having already prepared the answer. "It was Sister Hattie. She’s a veteran with seafood ingredients—thinks kelp is way too underrated, and there’s a lot of potential there."
"Plus, with the sea at our door, South Harbor Distrct fishern bring in a ton of cheap seafood, but it doesn’t keep well. We worked together, trying to turn these ordinary ingredients into truly delicious food."
As he spoke, he broke so bread, dunked it in the soup, and enjoyed it with the fish and kelp, a look of real contentnt on his face.
~~~
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