Chapter 50

After his master left Yosnad with the sorceress, Lazarus gathered his lesser vampires and assigned them tasks related to his master's orders. Each vampire was instructed to travel to a different country in Acrania, searching for signs of a cross-dimensional world. Lazarus felt a surge of satisfaction upon uniting with the demon king, but newfound questions began to plague his mind. Centuries of waiting for his master had finally paid off, and now he was determined to ensure that his master's will would be fulfilled.

After the final lesser vampire left the mansion, Lazarus departed from Yosnad. He needed to quickly find ways to alleviate his master's burden. The sorceress had spoken to him the day before she left with the master. He could still recall her words, "Lazarus, I know you have been faithfully following our lord for a very long time, and though I have only recently come to know him, I can sense that he is deeply troubled by the events that have been unfolding. I believe that there is something else other than what master is suspecting of happening."

Lazarus grinned as he slid into the depths of darkness. Anyone foolish enough to wield a sword against his master would pay a dear price. Lazarus vowed to personally search for any signs of manipulation or treachery. His master had mentioned that upon awakening, he found himself transported to a mysterious forest near Yosnad. Determined to uncover the truth, Lazarus decides to investigate the forest himself for any ominous signs of manipulations.

Back in Sanctavia, Astaroth decided not to open the letter. Lalitha returned to her room to rest, both of them agreeing that something else must have caused Magnus to flee from Yosnad. As morning dawned, they planned to explore the ancient temple and search for any records of the forgotten goddess.

Lalitha, troubled by Ezio's absence, had issued punishments for his failure to report back to her. Astaroth suspected that something was amiss after he had consumed Ezio's soul. A part of him might have been destroyed in the process. The next morning after they had woken up, the duo took a light breakfast at the inn and for direction from the innkeeper to the temple where they could find out more about the goddess.

As they exited the inn, both of them noticed that the streets had become busier than the day before. The merchants had set up stalls on both sides of the street, selling souvenirs, religious artifacts, and various other items, including food. Despite the early hour, the streets were packed with a multitude of people—tourists, locals, and the occasional sighting of Templars, who walked in pairs, diligently maintaining order.

The city brimmed with a festive atmosphere as Astaroth walked towards the main temple, accompanied by Lalitha. Towering over Sanctavia, the main temple stood as a majestic structure, the grandest among all. Each day, the pope would ascend its steps to deliver sermons that resonated with the masses. However, Astaroth and Lalitha held little interest in such sermons. Instead, they sought something far more intriguing—a hidden library, veiled within the temple's hallowed walls. This library, as the innkeeper had whispered, welcomed all who sought knowledge, offering access to the sacred scriptures and teachings of the goddess Seraphiel.

As Astaroth and Lalitha approached the entrance of the temple, their eyes widened at the sight of the imposing pair of guards. Donned in shimmering armor that glimmered under the sun's rays, the guards regarded the duo with suspicion, their gaze sharp and penetrating. Astaroth, determined and resolute, met their scrutiny with unwavering confidence.

"We come seeking entry to the sacred library," Astaroth declared, his voice steady and commanding. "Within its hallowed halls, we yearn to immerse ourselves in the profound wisdom of Seraphiel, to unearth the secrets that lie dormant in its ancient tomes."

The guards exchanged glances, their stoic countenances showing hints of intrigue. Stepping forward, one of the guards revealed a key, swinging gently from his grasp. With a solemn air, he spoke, his voice carrying a weight of caution.

"If your intentions are pure and your hearts aligned with the light, I shall grant you passage," the guard announced. "But heed my words, for the library is no ordinary sanctuary. Its shelves house not only the knowledge of ages past but also the forgotten arts of magic, capable of unlocking the gateways to realms beyond mortal comprehension."

Astaroth and Lalitha nodded in understanding, fully aware of the gravity of their request. Astaroth reached into a satchel he carried, retrieving a parchment and ink quill. With meticulous strokes, he inscribed their names, place of origin, and their current abode. He handed the parchment to the guard, ensuring their commitment to the rules set forth.

"We agree to the rules set in this place" Astaroth affirmed, his voice echoing with sincerity. "We understand that these tomes are to be treasured and safeguarded, their wisdom shared but not taken beyond these sacred walls. We solemnly vow to uphold this trust."

The guards, satisfied with their dedication, nodded approvingly and inserted the key into the ancient lock. As the massive doors creaked open, revealing a passage shrouded in an ethereal glow, Astaroth and Lalitha exchanged a glance brimming with anticipation. After they had entered the guards closed the door behind them, although the library is open to the public there isn't anyone else other than Astaroth and Lalitha.

In front of them stretched rows and rows of towering bookshelves, laden with countless volumes. "Master, this could take quite a while," Lalitha whispered to the demon king. As a sorceress, her excitement grew at the prospect of uncovering rare manuscripts that held forbidden knowledge. In her childhood days in Sanctavia, she never had the chance to step foot into this sacred haven. Most of her time was spent on the city outskirts, diligently learning the ways of white magic under her mentor's guidance.

"Have no worries, Lalitha, for the literature within these walls is of little concern to us. Our primary focus is to find information on Seraphiel."

They ventured deeper into the labyrinth of books, their footsteps echoing softly against the hallowed halls. Dust particles danced in the air as they moved, casting an ethereal glow upon the shelves. The ancient tomes whispered secrets, their pages begging to be turned and their knowledge unleashed.

Astaroth searched for the section on the history of Sanctavia while Lalitha searched for records of the goddess appearing in Arcania. Both of them spent a few days tirelessly searching for information, but there was nothing specific about how the country came about or whether Sanctavia was founded by the goddess Seraphiel. What they discovered were mainly textbook stories, which they had already heard from Nick.

On the fifth day, Astaroth grew frustrated and slammed the book shut with a loud bang. He had searched through countless volumes but found nothing of use. The stories all seemed the same—a tale of a demon king who had long ruled over the land of Acrania, oppressing its people. Then, one fateful day, a goddess took pity on her suffering subjects and waged war against the demon king. With a priest by her side, she founded Sanctavia, a stronghold of hope and resistance. The priest, touched by divine power, ascended to become the revered Pope of Sanctavia.

Lalitha's search yielded no luck either. There were no records of the goddess Seraphiel appearing anywhere else in Arcania. It was as though the creation of Sanctavia and the story about the goddess were limited to Sanctavia itself. However, some worshipers knew of the goddess even in the remote corners of Arcania. The sudden influx of foreign people appearing in Sanctavia this week was a miracle in itself.

Astaroth found himself pondering the repetitive narratives when a peculiar sensation coursed through his mind. The stories seemed unnaturally contrived as if they served the sole purpose of fabricating a legend to support the creation of a country. Letting out a sigh, he reopened the book firmly grasped in his hand, its pages whispering secrets waiting to be unraveled. The words, though familiar from countless readings, beckoned him once more.

"In the dawn of Sanctavia, the goddess stood tall above her people, with the Pope leading the way," the text began. "The demon king had been slain, and peace finally descended upon the land. The world was now basking in the tranquility, claimed by the divine goddess herself. On this momentous day, I shall lay the foundation of a new nation, one that shall be called Sanctavia to signify the sanctification of our world. This sacred place will herald the beginning of a new era. I shall bestow upon the devoted priest, who has prayed and unwaveringly believed, the role of the Pope to govern this nascent land in my stead."

"One day, the prophecy foretells that the demon king shall rise once more, and when that fateful day arrives, I shall return to Sanctavia to lead my people in the battle against this looming threat. But until that time comes, I implore the people of Sanctavia to rest, to give thanks, and to continue to shower Arcania with their blessings in every conceivable way."

The goddess concluded her proclamation, a mystical aura enveloped the land, infusing Sanctavia with otherworldly energy. The once dormant mountains began to rumble, and a surge of magic surged through the veins of its people. Sanctavia transformed into a realm where reality intertwined with fantasy, where mythical creatures roamed freely, and where the echoes of ancient prophecies whispered on the wind.

In this newfound realm, the Pope, now the appointed ruler of Sanctavia, felt the weight of his divine responsibility settle upon his shoulders. He delved into the ancient tomes and scriptures, seeking wisdom and guidance to protect his people from the impending darkness that loomed on the horizon.

Astaroth closes the book again and heaves a sigh, there is no description of what the goddess looks like nor are there drawing of her. The statues that are in the city are created by artist imaginations and has no real representation.