Lucia, who considered 100 shillings merely the price of a piece of candy, wasn’t completely clueless about the economy.
A textbook for her major cost 700 shillings, and depending on the distance, a carriage ride from the academy to the mansion was 500 shillings.
And the price of a good-quality black iron sword was 30,000 shillings.
Although Shiron had broken it, the black iron sword was a fine weapon. Therefore, Lucia knew that 30,000 shillings was by no means a trivial amount.
“What? Thirty-five thousand shillings?”
In a hotel lobby in Brahham, Lucia asked Shiron with wide eyes.
“Isn’t that a total rip-off? How can renting one room cost thirty-five thousand?”
“It’s not thirty-five thousand for one, but for two rooms. And since it’s the cost for a week, the longer we stay, the more additional charges we’ll incur.”
Shiron handed one of the keys he was holding to Lucia, who couldn’t close her mouth and looked at the key she received.
A key with no special enchantments, nothing remarkable about it. Her gaze then shifted. Lucia quickly scanned the interior of the lobby.The floor was made of ordinary sandstone, not even marble; the ceiling had plain ether lamps instead of chandeliers. There were no statues, no carpets, and even the receptionist sitting at the desk was unremarkable.
“But per day… for one room… dividing thirty-five thousand by seven… Hmm.”
After roughly calculating in her head, Lucia stared at Shiron with trembling hands.
“Wouldn’t it be better to just get one room?
“For your information, there’s only one bed per room.”
“I’ll, I’ll sleep on the floor. Besides, what about the issue of standing guard? What if something happens to you while we’re in separate rooms?”
“I asked for adjacent rooms, so it’s fine.”
Shiron turned and pressed the elevator button.
“And there are more things to worry about than just the lodging fee.”
“What do you mean?”
“Today’s chickpea soup and barley bread alone cost five hundred shillings each. Compared to that, the lodging fee is reasonable.”
“Why so expensive when there wasn’t even a piece of meat? Are they crazy?”
Lucia recalled the stiff soup and tasteless bread. She hadn’t complained about the absence of meat, considering it an experience of exotic culture, but hearing the price made her furious inside.
“Perhaps.”
Ding-
The elevator door opened, and Shiron led the way. Lucia hurried after him.
“Considering it’s a desert where not even a blade of grass grows easily, maybe these prices are to be expected? Since most of the food has to be imported from other countries.”
“That’s ridiculous. No matter how you think about it, it’s inefficient.”
“Why ridiculous? Think about how many pilgrims there are in the world. And since Brahham is one of the easiest pilgrimage sites to reach, it naturally attracts more people.”
Pilgrims,
Those who wished to visit all three holy sites in the world.
Tagore Hill.
The Holy Land Brahham.
Lake of Beginnings.
The place where the Demon God died, Tagore Hill, was in the demonic realm and unreachable, and the Lake of Beginnings, where an angel gave Kyrie the holy sword, was mentioned in the scriptures but located in an unknown place to the world.
Therefore, even those without unparalleled martial prowess flock to Brahham, the only accessible site among them.
Stigmata, revelations, holy swords, demons, evil gods. Proof of the existence of angels and gods existed in this world, and believers were willing to offer their wealth to get closer to God.
“Maybe you’re right about being crazy. The term ‘fanatic’ isn’t used for nothing.”
“Hmm…”
“It just shows how deeply the ancestors’ teachings influence the present. We, their descendants, should be happy about it.”
“Descendants, you say.”
“It’s late. Let’s wash up and sleep. I can handle sweat, but sand stuck in my clothes is unpleasant.”
With that, Shiron bid Lucia goodnight and entered his room. The desert night unfolded outside. The view from the window transitioned from sunset to a dark blue night sky, and below…
There were spires blinking with white lights like stars.
The lights emanating from the spires were not from ether lamps. Lucia had often seen this light in Lucerne; they were sanctuaries, shining as brightly as the prayers of the believers gathered within.
“…It’s worse than Lucerne.”
The night view of Brahham was even more dazzling than that of Lucerne, where the Saint resided.
To enter Kyrie’s mausoleum tomorrow, they needed to wake up early.
Shiron covered the incoming light with curtains. Somehow, looking at that light, he felt he wouldn’t be able to sleep peacefully.
“The founder, huh? That’s a heavy burden.”
After parting with Shiron, Lucia found herself unable to fall asleep easily.
Lucia inadvertently found herself pondering concerns she had been avoiding, triggered by Shiron’s mention of the “founder.”
The founder of the Prient family.
A task she had given up on at some point due to a lack of manpower and resources.
The story concerned the Prient family, which claimed to be descendants of Kyrie.
“No matter how I think about it, I don’t remember giving birth to any descendants.”
Kyrie died on the way back to her homeland after completing the hero’s journey. She distinctly remembered dying, her body burning feverishly and her limbs crumbling away.
“It wasn’t because of some necromancy prank.”
Though she considered the possibility, that thought was quickly dismissed from her mind.
Seira had said that necromancy, being contrary to the will of heaven, was not an efficient form of magic.
Necromancy required the life of the caster as well, especially when controlling the deceased of higher “status,” demanding even more life force. Hence, even practitioners of dark magic who learned necromancy rarely used it as their primary method.
Moreover, at the time of Kyrie’s death, there was no dark magician capable of handling Kyrie’s status, let alone casting a single necromancy spell. Kyrie herself had eliminated all the notable dark magicians.
Then, one thought led to another. If Seira and the one-horned Yuma, both of whom retained memories from 500 years ago, might know the truth.
Lucia’s mind was engulfed in a whirlpool of thoughts.
The one-horned Yuma.
A demon race that claimed dominion over humans.
“The founder of Prient. The place where Lady Kyrie received the holy sword from the angel of God.”
Was it during her time in Dawn Castle? Yuma had once mentioned this to Lucia.
That statement seemed to imply that Yura was the angel of God. However, Yura was merely a human and had died before Kyrie.
Kyrie saw it with her own eyes; the angel and Yura must be different entities.
“…Enough.”
Lucia, still with damp hair, hugged her blanket.
“Let’s stop thinking about this. I need to focus on Shiron.”
Though nothing happened today, anything could happen at any time. Since both the one-horned Yuma and Jaganata were confirmed to be alive, it wouldn’t be strange for danger to arise at any moment.
Resolving to be more prepared next time, Lucia chewed on the corner of her blanket.
The next day.
Avoiding the crowded hours, the group left the hotel as soon as they were ready. There were quite a few people around, but fortunately, they didn’t have to queue for anything.
Entering Kyrie’s mausoleum, Lucia looked up at the statues at the entrance.
‘…They’re identical.’
Whoever sculpted them must have observed Kyrie closely. While slightly more heroic in appearance, the jawline, the height of the nose… the sharp eyes were exactly like Kyrie’s.
Holding the holy sword aloft in one hand, the statue captured the heroic figure of Kyrie in her prime. And next to it…
There was a mage with a smashed face and a woman without a head, both significantly more damaged.
‘Is the mage Seira, and the other Yura?’
Lucia shifted her gaze to examine the statues more closely.
‘Anjei and Binella’s figures are also preserved.’
Beside them, there were also figures of a spearman with a giant spear and a dwarf holding a shield, their faces intact.
‘Why are only Yura and Seira’s statues destroyed?’
Lucia had that question but couldn’t dwell on the statues for long, as Shiron moved deeper into the mausoleum.
Lucia stayed close to Shiron’s side. Noticing her following, Shiron led deeper into the mausoleum, towards the innermost structure, recalling memories of the past.
‘Latera said that one naturally comes to know upon reaching the holy site.’
And finally, Shiron and Lucia made it to the innermost part.
A huge tombstone was visible. The white tombstone erected at the time of Kyrie’s death. It must have been about 2 meters high?
As this was the center of the holy site, it was crowded with people. Shiron tried to squeeze through the crowd to get closer to the tombstone.
Since Kyrie’s body would be laid in the hero’s house in Latera, the entrance to the hero’s house must surely be here.
‘There might be another clue.’
When playing Reincarnation of the Sword Saint, he hadn’t paid attention to the details since he couldn’t see them closely, but now that it was reality, could there be some legible inscriptions? Shiron thought this as he gazed at the tombstone.
As expected, there were inscriptions on the tombstone.
“…”
Captivating…
Written in familiar handwriting with neat phrases.
[For Hyunjun, whom I always want to see.]
“…What’s this?”
It was the handwriting of someone he had seen every day, from childhood to adulthood.
“Seriously…”
Shiron chuckled. An unexpected encounter with a trace of his life from before possession.
It was Shin Yura’s handwriting… and seeing it made it hard for him to breathe, his chest tightening.
“…What is this?”
A tingling sensation arose in his nose. His eyes grew hot, and he felt on the verge of a disgraceful sniffle. He thought he had almost forgotten, but such a small trace reignited the old feelings he had for that girl.
[In memory of my precious friend, Kyrie.]
The inscription below initially seemed unimportant to him.
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