Chapter 82

“Did you have a nightmare?”

Kalosa asked with a wrinkled frown.  Fernan, who had been observing the situation for a moment, found a bandage wrapped around his shoulder and all over his arm.

It was then that pain filled his body as if he had been mutilated.

Fernan, biting his lip and lowering his hand, took a deep breath, and his former memory gradually became clearer.

He was clearly facing off with his enemies.  Then, without realizing it, he reached the edge of the cliff and stumbled on his foot.

…  No, to be exact, something like fog grabbed his ankles and pulled him down.

While Fernan groped for that sensation, Kalosa asked again.

“If you wake up now, the pain will be severe, are you okay?”

His arm was healed by Kalosa's holy power, leaving no trace.

However, due to the serious injury, the nerves would not fully heal, and the crushing pain was still felt.

Besides, he should have been asleep for three or four days under anesthesia, but he woke up in less than two days.

That would make his pain even worse, but he didn't groan except for a frown on his forehead.

After a while, Fernan stared at Kalosa with his slightly sharper eyes. Then he looked down at his arm again.

A bandage tied without a single point of fraying.  Pain as if one of his arms had been torn off.

And the old man in front of him.

For a moment, Fernan's eyes flashed weakly.  It was because this situation suddenly felt strange.

Was it purely a coincidence that he had come this far?  Obviously, the fog that dragged him down from the cliff was not an illusion.

Fernan narrowed his brow slightly.  Then, almost reflexively, he untied the bandage on his arm.

“No, what are you doing?”

Fernan's expression hardened as he looked down at his bare arm exposed outside as Kalosa mumbled absurdly.

There was pain, but there were no scars.

Seeing Fernan’s hardened face, Kalosa spoke.

“I used my powers.  Fortunately, the injuries were not serious and they were treated quickly.”

Power.  Then this old man was a priest.

Fernan jumped out of bed and looked around.  Then he looked at the small window in the wooden wall.

The street was covered with fog. He saw old wooden houses and tents scattered about.  It was a slum street.

At this moment, he remembered what Matheus had said.

“They are more likely to hide in places no one expected.  It will be the poorest, most inconspicuous, small place.”

A place where no one dared to expect a divine agent to live in.

Fernan turned around again and faced Kalosa, who was staring at him.

He could sense it.  All of this was by no means a coincidence.

A priest with excellent healing powers living in such a small and shabby town.

Fernan had been with priests famous for their healing powers during a long war.

Even though he was a priest with excellent healing power, he had never seen him heal a wound of such pain without leaving a trace.

So, the priest in front of him right now was ..…

“Are you God’s agent?”

At the question without back and forth, Kalosa's eyes widened slightly, then changed subtly.

With his eyes raised and wide open, Kalosa stared at Fernan, then sighed.

God's agent.  It had been 100 years since he had heard such a name.

When Kalosa didn't answer, Fernan rushed closer to him.

“I saw a record of a priest with strange powers appearing here in Carnosia hundred years ago.”

“…  ”

“Perhaps the priest in the record is you.”

Contrary to the assumed tone, his expression was full of conviction.

Kalosa seemed to gauge his intentions, and then let out a calm voice.

"That's possible. Because I'm a priest who is superior to ordinary ones.”

"Then….”

As Fernan was about to say something more, Kalosa raised his hand to interrupt him.

“But I don’t know what kind of monstrous sound this is, because I’m only that much of an agent of God.”

Before any further misunderstanding, when Kalosa gave a negative statement, Fernan replied in a calm yet confident voice.

“Just by looking at this arm, anyone can tell that you are beyond the realm of an ordinary priest.”

“You are very stubborn.  Yeah, it looks like you've been through some wars……  ”

Kalosa waved his hand as if it was bothersome to talk to him, and gave an order.

“Anyway, I don’t know about that, so go ahead.  You look like a busy man, so go your own way."

Then he got up slowly and walked across the room.

Fernan, who followed him straight away, hurriedly stopped in front of him.

“Help me.”

With a voice that forcibly stopped his feet, Kalosa raised his head.  Fernan, who had completely covered the front of the door, continued speaking in an anxious voice.

“My wife is suffering from a side effect of her power.”

“…  What kind of trick is this?”

Fernan continued to speak firmly as he watched Kalosa squint his eyes.

“I heard that power and vitality are intertwined, and the more you use it, the more your life will be devoured.”

He raised his dangerously trembling eyes.

“If you are the priest, you know what it is.”

“…  ”

Kalosa blinked slowly without saying a word. In fact, there were very few diseases in the world that Kalosa was not aware of.

The side effect of power that Fernan said was also a familiar illness to Kalosa.  He had treated it with his holy water several times a long time ago.

“I was told that by drinking the Holy Water of the High Priest, he could renew every function of the body.”

“Huh….”

Seeing that Fernan even knew that fact, it seemed that all the old records were outdated.  While Kalosa showed an interesting gaze, Fernan continued to speak.

“And I am convinced that you are one of those high priests who are agents of God.”

Fernan, who said so, looked like he would do anything to save his wife.  In other words, if Kalosa continued to take his feet off as he was, it would seem like he would be dragged away by force.

Seeing Fernan's eyes that began to flash, Kalosa slowly shook his head.

“This is very…  ”

He felt like he was being threatened somehow.  Kalosa, who was muttering, finally let out a shaky sigh and continued to speak quietly.

“Yes, God’s agent.  There was a time when I was called by that name.”

Kalosa, who changed his tone in an instant, nodded with an expressionless face.

Fernan looked desperate, and it was impossible to keep denying.

As if he was ready to sit down and talk, Kalosa crossed his arms and walked into the room.

“I don’t know where you found the record, but it’s true that I saved someone with holy water a long time ago.”

While he floundered on the old wooden chair, Fernan, who followed him, stood there anxiously waiting for him to speak.

“But now, the value of holy water has changed a lot from that time. Hundreds of years have passed, so the power of the holy water that I have has declined significantly.”

“That means……  ”

"I'm not sure if I'll be able to completely heal all the functions.”

The high priest's holy water meant blood.

It was during the time when Kalosa saved people with holy water when his blood was filled with holy power without a single impurity.

Hundreds of years have passed now, and he has aged that much, and since he has not been able to worship God himself for a while, his spiritual powers must be quite poor.

“Even if it’s not perfect, can you save her?”

Fernan clenched his trembling hand tightly.  There was a tension that could not be hidden in the flowing voice.

Kalosa shrugged his shoulders and replied calmly.

"Yes. I can save her.”

However, he may not be able to fully restore all functions.

Holy power was actually the closest to the brain. Therefore, there was a high possibility that Julia would lose all her memories.  However, it was enough to save a person just before her death.

Soon,  Kalosa lifted his chin with a shaggy white beard.

“So If I give you my holy water, what will you give me?”

If there was something to give, there must be something to receive in return. To Kalosa's stern question, Fernan answered without hesitation.

“I will give you anything.”

For now, the only person who could save Julia was this High Priest.  Whatever he wanted, Fernan was willing to give it to him.

Kalosa shrugged his shoulders and stood up.

“Well, don’t worry, I’m not going to ask for something so great to make such a wretched face.”

After passing Fernan, he approached the door again.

“And I mean. It would be good to know. You are lucky.”

He met one of the high priests who had been hiding from persecution for hundreds of years.

Few would have ever thought that the high priests were still alive, but it was possible that God had pitied the defeated man who had come all the way here with unwavering faith.

Yes, perhaps this was God’s arrangement. Kalosa muttered inwardly, then stepped outside.