Chapter 172

Chapter 172

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Blood fell from Inquisitor Methyn's mace.

The big guy that fought against him was lying on the floor, face caked in red. Methyn let his mace fall to the floor, finally returning to consciousness.

'Ah, my temper got the better of me.'

He almost killed an innocent person again out of anger.

He wasnt meant to kill ordinary people but heretics and necromancers.

Methyn climbed onto the fallen big man and sat down, grabbing his blood-stained mace.

{Heal}

Whirr!

The mans battered face started to heal. Then, Meythn took out his communication crystal ball and held it in front of his mouth.

"This is Inquisitor Methyn. Please issue an order for all the personnel on standby to move."

The device buzzed for a moment, then a tired male voice came from it.

[What is it this time? Youre not even working today.]

"A necromancer has appeared. I smelled it."

[]

The buzzing returned for a few more seconds before the man answered,

[Sending five people your way.]

* * *

Buried in the crowd, Simon was completely oblivious to what was happening around him. The surroundings were very noisy, and, as was always the case in places like this, some drunk people were going wild.

He figured it was just another fight that had erupted.

'Now that I bought something to cover my face, I guess I also need a set of clothes to wear during the trip.'

Simon's next target after purchasing the mask was a new robe.

He was currently wearing a brown, featureless robe. He just grabbed it randomly from his house, and it was already worn and torn.

So, he decided to replace it with something good. He wanted to spend all his 20 million blancs on this trip, not being able to use them when he returned.

Simon looked around and entered a rather large, luxurious clothing store. It was a proper building, not a street stall. A sleek shop owner greeted Simon with a wide smile.

"I need a holymans robe. One with a hood."

At that, the shop owner asked for identification. As the Holy Federation had a clear class system, only priests could purchase holymens robes.

'It's a bit strange that the clothes you can buy are determined by status.'

After checking Simon's fake ID, the shop owner asked Simon for his sizing and immediately brought a white robe from the closet.

It had a neat design without any complicated patterns. He figured it wouldn't be bad to have a white robe when playing his part as an apprentice priest.

"And the biggest feature of this robe! You can flip it inside out to make it!"

The shopkeeper turned the robe inside out, changing it into a stylish coat. It was still white, though.

"Also, if you infuse a little bit of mana here"

She held a crystal ball in her hand and placed it on the coat, turning it blue.

"You can change the color like this!"

"Awesome."

'A robe that changes color and can be turned into a coat, huh?'

It looked pretty useful.

While the shopkeeper eagerly explained the material used for it, Simon grabbed one of the ends of the coat and imbued it with only a drop of jet-black.

'Oh.'

As expected, the section of the coat turned black. A white robe on the outside and a black coat on the inside. He liked it very much.

"I'll take it."

Simon liked the item, despite the price being a bit steep. It was a magic item, after all.

After paying 2 million blancs, Simonwearing the white robeleft the store with a happy heart. He also still had 18 million blancs on him.

Murmur, murmur, murmur.

However, the atmosphere outside was a bit odd. Simon blended in with the crowd. Only one thing he knew of could make such a racket.

"It's an inquisitor!"

"Don't get too close!"

A group of priests was marching through the crowds in the middle of the night market.

They carried maces, crowns of thorns, torture wheels, and other hideous items.

Their eyes were filled with hatred, bloodstains covered their white clothes, and they oozed with bloodlust. It felt like they'd tear apart anyone who'd lay even a hand on them.

'That's an inquisitor?'

To Simon, they just looked like a group of blood-crazy murderers.

They were already 'inquisitioning' someone. He was being publicly tortured, his howls so pained they would make even the devils cry.

"What are you, what are you?!"

Repeated an inquisitor with a protruding mouth like a bird's beak as he pressed a crown of thorns down into the victims scalp.

"Are you really not a heretic, not a heretic?!"

"H-How many times do I have to say I'm no Kuaaaaaaaagh!"

The senior inquisitor who had been slapped by Rete slowly stood up.

"No matter how high a student of Efnel is, you're crossing the line. Dragons and worms alike have their own roles to play. Let us do ours, please. Ours."

"Why do you say I'm crossing the line?"

Scoffed Rete, folding her arms.

"Are you guys really in charge of this place and assigned to inquisitioning heretics at this time today?"

""

The expression of the senior inquisitor stiffened slightly. Rete tapped her watch.

"If you guys came here without getting approval from the higher-ups and then tortured the villagers and made a fuss, we'd have a lot to talk about, right?"

""

"Shall I check all the schedules, turn everything upside down, and make your boss apologize for it? Or will you just turn your tail and flee?"

The senior inquisitor clenched his teeth.

'This student bastard would be nothing but an ordinary priest if not for Efnel'

His gaze moved. There were too many people watching to run wild.

Although it hurt his pride, it was best to withdraw instead of provoking Efnel by taking further action here.

"Let's go."

The senior inquisitor turned around. The juniors muttered to each other in bewilderment, but the senior inquisitor ignored them and said,

"Release everyone. We're going back."

Finally, those who were being tortured were released. The woman chained to the Catherine wheel bowed her head at Rete repetitively.

Rete told her to take care of herself and went to treat the wounded.

'But where's Simon?'

The senior inquisitor had similar thoughts.

'Where's that bastard who called us, Methyn?'

* * *

"Kugh!"

Simon, running down the market street, hurriedly lowered his head. Beast-like fangs flew in, stabbing themselves into the wall one after another.

"I found you! The source of the stench!"

Some crazy bastard had suddenly attacked him, saying Simon smelled like something.

Simon hurriedly ran away, and the crazy bastard ran after him, pushing and throwing people aside. He was frantically creating fangs in the air with some sort of light spell and firing them.

'At this rate, innocent people will get hurt.'

Simon left the street and entered a desolate alley.

"Haha! Have you given up on running away?!"

Thud!

Before Simon even saw the priest jump, he had overtaken Simon and landed.

"I shall give you your judgment, necromancer!"

Simon smiled and gathered his hands in prayer after drawing a cross.

"You seem to have misunderstood something. My name is Skar Seraphino. I am an apprentice priest. And aren't you an inquisitor? Why don't you stop attacking and perform an inquisition first?"

"Forget the inquisition!"

Methyn raised his arms.

Simon's gaze also went up.

A white magic circle was spreading in the sky above his head.

'Crap!'

"There's no need for any inquisition when I have my nose!"

{Exorcism}

Crackle!

A line of divine lightning descended from the magic circle and pierced Simon. He was flooded with light and an explosion burst forth.

"Bwahaha!"

Exorcism was a spell that assured death for necromancers. On a direct hit, the core and body would be simultaneously purified into divinity.

"One problem solved"

Methyn couldn't help but doubt his own eyes.

"...today?"

Suddenly, a fierce wind approached, accompanied by the sole of a shoe attached to a person he thought to be dead.

Pooooooooooow!

Methyn flew back, blood spewing from his nose.

Rrrumble!

Methyn's body landed on a pile of trash in the alley.

Simon brushed off his robe.

"I told you, I'm not a necromancer."