Dorn spoke once more, breaking the unnerving silence between the three, "Priest Veron, I hope you are not having any strange ideas, but as the regional governing authority, my Morrow family will take the Dragon's corpse, and we will investigate the truth behind it."
Martial Kaelin did not speak; he waited for the Priest's response, and, just as he thought, the church priest's reaction was anything but subtle. The man's expression twisted into a look of utter contempt.
Veron stated, his voice filled with righteous indignation, "You surely Jest, Highlord Dorn. It does not matter whether House Morrow is the regional authority; according to the laws, anything and everything related to the divine race will unquestionably be handled by the church and the church alone."
It was at this moment that Kaelin sneered, "Priest Veron, did you forget to bring your common sense with you? Have you never heard of the quote? First-come, first-served?"
He added, his voice threatening, "Or do you think Highlord Dorn and I are here to simply suck on our fingers while you take away the Dragon's corpse with a merry smile?"
Veron chuckled, seeing Dorn and Kaelin stand together; their threat was obvious; these two would not let Veron take away the prize, even if it meant using force. But the Horned priest remained unperturbed. He clasped both of his hands together, starting a strange chant, while his eyes were closed.
Kaelin thought about stopping him for a moment, but Dorn Morrow stopped him, and when they realized what the priest was doing, it was already too late. The color of the world itself changed for tens of miles, an unmistakable presence of a higher life form, radiated throughout the area.
The visage of a flickering old man emerged from a small condensation of the divine energy within Veron. The flickering visage resembled that of a white, bearded, weak, old man, but perhaps the most notable thing about him was his draconic horn, almost golden in color, with six round stripes.
The other two immediately created a good amount of distance, feeling the threatening power.
Priest Veron immediately bowed his head and, using a secret transmission technique, explained to the Archbishop exactly what was going on. The old archbishop's gaze flicked downward. The moment he saw the corpse of the Dragon, a bloody trickle fell from his eyes.
Even through the projection, the red tear manifested in reality, dropping onto the flaming grounds. But the flames were not powerful enough to vaporize the tear, and it landed on the corpse of the Dragon.
The projection turned towards Dorn and Kaelin, the archbishop stated in a solemn tone, his voice strong enough to ripple the very mana of the world, "I apologize, Highlord of House Morrow and the Divine Fist sect, but Veron shall be talking the remains. In exchange, I will owe you two a favor, how about it?"
There was a long stretch of silence until Dorn Morrow stated, gathering his courage, "Forgive me, Archbishop, but that will not do. Kaelin and I need to take at least some part of the Dragon's corpse, otherwise this will not remain a secret."
At this moment, Kaelin also chimed in, "That's right, Archbishop. Make your choice."
To that defiance, the church's Archbishops gaze turned dangerous. For a moment, he was almost thinking about killing the two Highlords, but he stopped and let out a tired sigh, "Fine, but you two will only get some scales and blood. Nothing more… Do not test my patience. Otherwise, I will be forced to do the worst."
This time, Dorn Morrow and Kaelin from the Divine Fist Sect did not dare to rebuke anymore, accepting the Archbishop's arrangement. Because just the blood and scales of the Dragon were more than enough to create two powerful artifacts for their personal use.
That's all they wanted.
Dorn stated, "In that case, no one else will hear of this from us. Rest assured, your holiness."
Kaelin added, "We shall leave then, may the Dragons bless us all."
The two figures flew in two different directions, disappearing from the sight of Veron in just a minute. The projection of the Bishop then waved his hand, creating a barrier of isolation around the area, which began to shrink more and more, collecting all the traces of the dead Dragon's energy.
Sealing it all within the corpse, he spoke to Veron in a solemn tone, "Come to the capital with this immediately. We need to investigate why a rogue dragon has come out of the subterranean world. And who was it that managed to kill such a creature? Even you would have trouble killing a Tyrant Rank Dragon on your own, Veron."
He continued, "This is not a good sign. A bad premonition like this means that there must be bad times ahead for our Dragon Church. We must stop the impending calamity no matter the cost, no matter what…"
Priest Veron bowed his head 90 degrees and muttered like the pious believer he was, "Do not say more, Your Holiness. Everything necessary shall be done. The blasphemer, whoever he may be, and his entire bloodline shall be wiped out. The world shall be purified of the filth, as always."
***
Kale jolted awake in a few hours, and after walking up, his mind felt somewhat better, at least physically speaking.
But when he remembered that there were only 45 days he had left to live, his mood soured. Not only was there the fucking Dragon's Curse locking his progress, but now there was a literal doomsday clock hanging above his head like a reaper's scythe on his neck.
He had to close his eyes for a minute in order to forcefully calm his mind.
Thankfully, the place he blacked out on had no one nearby. Otherwise, he would have caught unnecessary attention.
After asking a few people who lived in the wilderness, he got directions to the next viscounty, which wasn't very far away. When he reached the main road towards that place, he found many others walking along it.
In half a day, he reached the designated location. The first thing he did after landing was to change his clothes once more with the last bit of coins he had on him. Then proceeded to burn his old clothes, just to be safe.
Kale began to think about the next course of action, looking at the caravan center. From the place where rows and rows of Wagons were heading out, filled with people. Each was going towards a different region of the Empire.
But the largest number of wagons was going towards the capital, Emberheart, and those were the most expensive ones as well. Unfortunately, Kale had already spent all the money that he brought alongside him, the money he stole from his father's savings stash.
The man would probably be furious. For a moment, Kale thought of the face that the villagers and perhaps his own parents would make once they saw the letter. The twins would probably just flesh out the truth of what Kale had written, and it was better this way.
It was better if they hated him and did not wait for an eternity.
Just the thought of never being able to see his cute little sister and his loving mother filled his chest with pain once more.
Kale gritted his teeth and brushed down all those dark thoughts; it wasn't the time for this. He couldn't become weak now; he had already made his decision, knew what he had to do, and had to follow through to the bitter end.
There was no fucking turning back now. Since he had no money, Kale decided to join a mercenary team heading to the capital. It seemed they were short-staffed and had heavy loads to carry.
Seeing the opportunity, he offered to work, "Hello, Sir, I'm willing to work and carry your goods on my back, please take me with you to the capital."
The buff-looking mercenary leader had cruel and serious eyes. Just from the gaze of his, Kale could tell that this man had killed a lot of people and perhaps powerful beasts, enough to have threatening bloodlust surrounding him. But Kale didn't feel a thing.