Arcanist In Another World-Chapter 62: Sunny Day

But then, they were damn good horses, and that creature’s form had turned into an illusion of sorts after Valens cut off its connection. So hauling the weight might not have been the back-breaking affair he thought it could have been.

Though he had to say, he preferred their current version of showing off to the pit town that the trouble had been, indeed, handled as it should. Just like that golden sword shining high over the brick building of the Sun’s Church, the Templars proved to be the light cleaving the darkness apart.

With a little help, I may add.

A part of Valens felt rather disappointed to find that the Miners weren’t looking at his side with expressions of awe or gratitude. Even if they were in the position to applaud someone, then they would’ve chosen the Templars either way, as their armors carried out a bastard of a light-show supported by the clear sky’s blessing.

Still, a part of him expected… something. Just a tiny little part of him, if he was being honest.

“I could use some rest, and this sun… is getting to my head,” Garran muttered as he shaded his eyes with a gauntleted hand.

“Light? Getting to your head?” Valens arched an eyebrow at him. “Thought the whole deal of Templars was about light, no? It certainly seemed like that when we were in the Cursed Rift with you glistening like a glob of light cleaving the darkness apart.”

“Eh,” Garran shrugged. “I’d appreciate some light, but too much of it makes this armor a pain to wear. Can’t expect me to wave a hand over the masses while sweating like a dog, can you? We have a reputation to keep.”

“What masses?” Valens looked around him. “There’s nobody here.”

“Like you could've possibly known that,” Garran said. “There could have been a crowd of Miners waiting by the mines, but it just so happened that they were busy with other things. Can’t do much about that, can you?”

“Guess not,” Valens said. He then looked up at the church building. He was rather interested in seeing the condition of the miners after they had dealt with the source of the problem.

“You need a rest,” Captain Edric said. “Take it, then you can check on them.”

Valens thought about it for some time before agreeing with the captain. He’d been caught with the life in this world, relying on the drug that was his stats and his mana pool to keep himself up through days, but the toll on his mind was one thing mana couldn’t solve.

A rest… Something tells me I won’t be getting too much of it.

And that something showed itself the moment Valens thought about it.

[Trial of the Arcane Healer - I]: A scream echoes in the Spiritum. Crimson waves stir beyond the senses of men. Shadows move toward Belgrave, drawn by the scent of return. Something long called is beginning to answer.

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He didn’t know when the change happened, but it did give him a clear sense of direction, which conveniently aligned with his journey with the Templars since they were taking him to the capital. Other than that, though, Valens still felt like he had only a few pieces to a puzzle that seemed to have no clear dimensions as of yet.

The one thing he was certain of was that the woman who had deceived the Weeping Horror into agreeing to the ancient ritual, which was essentially a trap laid for the Templars, was behind all of this. He wasn’t sure if his involvement had changed anything, or whether the Templars could’ve handled the Weeping Horror all by themselves, but the change to his Trial showed him that by taking out that creature, he had made things progress.

And that meant this dark business had something to do with him.

What are you trying to call from the Spiritum, Evercrest? Another beast? An ancient creature that you’re intending to release upon the Haven’s Reach? Why, though? And what is it that has something to do with me?

Valens shook his head. So much had happened since he came here that he hadn’t nearly enough time to process all of it. So much, indeed, but it seemed he was due more questions since a pair of men were waiting for them by the church.

It was Father Harmon and that Richards guy with an annoying face, and an equally smug air about him. Father Harmon had his hands clasped tightly before him, the chain of the little sword wrapped around his fingers. His eyes slowly widened with relief as he caught sight of the Templars.

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The Richards guy, instead, had the sleek smile of a businessman who had just heard his last investment was secured, and was beaming ear to ear as if he couldn't wait to hear the news. Gone was the tension in his eyes. No more of that trembling underchin, replaced by a healthy blotch of pink around his cheeks rather than the muddy stains of the Miners about the town.

Speaks to the character of his business, eh?

“Such swiftness!” the Richards guy said with a mighty sweep of his hand, with grandeur and such jest that Valens thought the man was about to kiss the heels of his expensive boots in an effort to show his gratitude. Luckily for him, the man seemed to have decided a toothy grin would be a better fit for the occasion. “As expected from God’s men. As expected from our sacred Church. I knew the moment I laid my eyes upon you, esteemed Templars, that this matter would be masterfully handled.”

“Handled? Those Miners are still suffering even as we speak!” Father Harmon was a stark contrast to the Richards guy, as he preferred to speak about the lives of men in question, since that was obviously the more important part of this whole deal.

We have removed the source, but there’s likely some filth left lingering in their bodies.

“How are they holding up?” Valens asked before Captain Edric and Garran had a chance to speak. Dain, on the other hand, left them to their conversation and trudged off toward the carriage with the shard.

“I’m sure you have handled what darkness plagues these unfortunate souls in that mine, but I’m afraid not much has changed,” Father Harmon said gravely.

“Not much? You mean the sickness is still there?” Valens scowled.

“It has certainly slowed down, but that’s the only meaningful change we have managed to observe, and we are not sure if that’s necessarily a good thing. Men are dying still, and they’re dying a much slower death than before.”

Captain Edric turned slightly toward Valens when he heard that last part. His green eyes gazed at him as if he were in deep thought before he raised a hand to the Father. “We did our job, Father. We have removed the source of that sickness. That should have solved your troubles.”

“Oh! Such great news! So you mean that as of now, we can resume our efforts in that particular tunnel, isn’t that so, esteemed Templar?” the Richards guy chimed in as he rubbed his hands. “There were good manastones in that tunnel. Great manastones that it would be a pity if we left them in the dark stretches of a mountain. They deserve light, eh, captain? Just like you, honorable gentlemen, do on this beautiful day.”

“How dare you speak of such things when your men lie still sick in their beds!” Father Harmon jabbed with a thick finger into the man’s face. “You haven’t even considered yet how you will compensate the dead and their families, have you? They’re—”

“Why, there’s no need for any consideration!” the Richards guy smiled. “We have those contracts for a reason, Father, and we make sure every man able for the job understands that this business carries a good amount of risks. From an unexpected collapse of a tunnel to the spread of an insidious sickness, we have them jotted down in explicit detail. You have to be careful about these little details when you’re dealing with hundreds of possible scenarios. A tiny breach, and you’ll be facing a great deal of cases raised against you in court. We don’t do that in our company.”

There was a smugness to the man, a particular pride as if he proved himself the better businessman by stating the sheer brutality of his contracts. He seemed too pleased with himself to the point that he cared not whether Captain Edric and Father Harmon got offended by this little piece.

“You…” Father Harmon said with such difficulty that his voice quivered as he went on, “You’re saying that you don’t plan on paying a single dime for these men? For a sickness spawned from your mine? For the limbs and lives lost in the servitude of your business? In these primal conditions, with you breathing down their neck at every second like a slave master?”

The smile on Richard’s lips slipped, replaced by a deep frown as he narrowed his eyes at the Father. “Servitude? Slave master? You seem to be sorely mistaken, Father, as I don’t force anyone here to work, nor do I have their leashes crammed in the spare room of my house to be used in case they prove a bunch of unruly dogs. They earn their keep, and we, as Brackley Company, pay them. Fair and square, as written in the contracts.”

A back and forth between the pair of them started while the Templars stood to the side like an audience left unattended.

“The business side of it…” Garran muttered as the two went on. “It changed a good deal, ain’t it?”

“Change is always bloody hard.” Captain Edric peered into the sunny sky, squinting at the brightness of it, grimacing as if he saw something unnerving there above. “It’ll take time for things to settle, for new understandings to take place, new laws to patch over the little holes opened up during the transition. For now, we have to wait as we don’t have a say in these matters.”

“Wait?” Valens said as he stared at the pair of bickering men, at the Father Harmon, who was beyond enraged as he stabbed that thick finger over and over into Richard’s chest while the businessman held his ground with a stubborn scowl. “You don’t wait when there’s sickness to be about,” Valens said to the captain. “You don’t seek a permit to do the right thing. You just do it, because if you don’t, people will die. It’s that simple a matter, don’t you think, captain?”

Valens watched as Captain Edric lowered his gaze under his calm anger. Garran shifted uncomfortably by the side, looking at his hands as if he expected they would give him some sort of answer to the question.

It was a different world, and that came with other values. Valens could understand the challenges they faced in their line of duty. Not to mention that while they were quite experienced in dealing with the shadows, they were painfully ill-equipped to handle the matters that they couldn’t solve by stabbing a sword through them.

To him, though, it meant that the job was scarcely over if men were suffering from that sickness.

We might have removed the source of it, but the work is still not done.

“I don’t blame you for keeping your silence, but I’ll go and do a check on those people,” Valens then said calmly, with a smile that surprised the pair of Templars. “That’s the job, eh? Can’t do much about it, can you?”

It was as Master Eldras had taught him. Once you take a job, you'd better make sure you see it through to the end.

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