This was the cathedral of the Magic Academy. Asa had never entered here; he seldom approached this place, as the majestic building exuded a solemn and austere atmosphere that made him uncomfortable.
Now, standing inside this towering structure, he could fully appreciate the unique power of religion. Even though he had never believed in any deity, he felt the reverence that surrounded him in the solemn environment.
The dozens of meters high ceiling and the vast interior created a sense of grandeur, depth, and formality. Sunlight streamed in through the stained glass windows, transforming into hazy light and shadows that floated through the space. The magnificent murals on the walls displayed the majesty and ambiguity of the divine. The sound of the organ filled the air, a hoarse and heavy tone that seemed inherent to the weighty atmosphere, almost a natural illusion born from the intimidating ambiance.
Asa suspected that the two priests leading the way had received special training, as they walked with heavy steps in this solemn environment without making a sound. They seemed accustomed to blending into the grandeur around them, leaving only the faint echo of their footsteps in the vast hall, as if to accentuate the surrounding majesty. Asa felt overwhelmed by the authority of the environment, as if he were an insignificant presence.
The two priests led him through the worship hall and into a long corridor. When they reached the end of the corridor, one of the priests opened the door and respectfully said, "Your Excellency, the person has been brought in."
Inside was a modest room with a small table, two chairs, and shelves full of books. Compared to the grandeur of the cathedral outside, this simple and tidy room felt somewhat isolated from the world, with only a few high windows allowing light to enter. Bishop Ronis was by the bookshelf, returning a book to its place. He nodded to the two priests and said, "Good. You may leave now. Close the door, and remember not to let anyone else in."
"Yes," the two priests replied and exited, closing the door behind them. All sounds and the atmosphere from outside abruptly ceased.
Asa hesitated at the door, feeling a bit nervous. He knew he was in the presence of someone worshipped throughout the empire.
"Don't be nervous, take a seat," Bishop Ronis said kindly, smiling at him and gesturing to the chair. His pure white silk robe and slender features made him appear like an uninvolved recluse, harmonizing with the simplicity of the surroundings, and not giving off any sense of pressure. Asa felt somewhat reassured and sat down. He didn't know that according to etiquette, when the bishop stood and spoke to someone, only the king had the right to sit.
"This is a room I had specially constructed," Bishop Ronis pointed around the walls. "It is completely soundproof, and no one outside can see in. So, when it's just the two of us, we can dispense with the formalities. I prefer to speak without worrying about rules and etiquette. When there are too many regulations, people tend to focus on them and forget the true purpose of their conversation." His expression was very amiable, and his tone lacked any haughtiness or pretentiousness. This casual demeanor combined with his extraordinarily high status instead evoked a deep, sincere reverence.
"I heard you obtained a leaf from the World Tree?" Bishop Ronis casually poured a cup of tea from a pot on the small table, asking in a relaxed manner as if inquiring whether someone had bought some vegetables. "And then you used it to save a person?" It seemed that Sandru's gossip was quite fast.
Asa nodded. "Yes." His heart was racing. Although he was certain that the bishop wouldn't mock him like Sandru, he still felt reluctant to be reprimanded by such a respected elder. Fortunately, Bishop Ronis merely smiled wryly and shook his head, as if regarding him with a hint of approval. "I can tell you are a kind-hearted person." The bishop handed Asa the cup. "Try this tea I made."
Asa took a sip and shook his head. "I don't know; I've never drunk this kind of tea. It just tastes very bitter."
Bishop Ronis chuckled. "I've heard that making tea is an art in certain countries. To master it profoundly must mean living in a leisurely place." He sat down in the chair next to Asa. "Now, tell me how you obtained that leaf from the World Tree. Be specific; I believe it will be an exciting story." He looked at Asa with a smile, seeming genuinely eager to hear a good story.
At first glance, the bishop's eyes, which appeared to have not slept well for a long time, seemed somewhat blurred. However, once one made eye contact, it became evident that deep within those eyes flickered two small flames—dim but burning with a piercing brilliance. Being gazed upon by such eyes made it difficult to approach the conversation with a dismissive attitude.
Asa recounted everything that had happened since encountering the red-robed man. Of course, he omitted the key points about how he had taken the ambassador and the local officials hostage. As for the words of the elven elder Cranford, he didn't care about them at all and looked down upon the elves' rigidity, considering their beliefs nothing more than self-deluding nonsense. He briefly mentioned that the elves didn't allow him to leave the forest due to their strange and ancient traditions.
Bishop Ronis seemed quite interested in the matter regarding the red-robed man and often asked about every detail. His expression occasionally displayed a smile; sometimes, he would nod in agreement with a hint of a wry smile, taking deep breaths. His lean face was very expressive, but whether it was an illusion caused by his status or his inherent disposition, he never gave off an approachable feeling, as if there was an indistinguishable aura of authority surrounding him.
After listening to Asa's account, he withdrew his gaze and stared at the bookshelf across from him, as if wanting to reorganize and synthesize what he had just heard in his mind. Asa dared not interrupt, merely watching him from the side.
Finally, Bishop Ronis returned his gaze and asked Asa, "Have you heard of the Necromancer Guild?"
Asa nodded. Almost no one hadn't heard of this name. It was an association formed by dark sorcerers who worshipped death in a valley called Dehya, located in the southernmost part of the continent. They were rumored to consume human flesh, drink blood, and manipulate zombies and ghosts, almost synonymous with terror.
"The wizard you mentioned encountering in the Whispering Woods is from the Necromancer Guild."
Asa nodded; he had suspected it from the beginning.
"Sandru is also a member of the Necromancer Guild, at least he was a long time ago."
"Ah?" Asa was shocked. It was hard for him to associate the old man he had lived with for so long, who would still go out to stroll every day, with the terrifying monsters said to eat human flesh and drink blood. He truly had not expected it.
"For a long time, they lacked a true leader, which led to their gradual transformation into a relatively loose organization of wizards. Some have completely severed ties with them, like Sandru. However, a small faction of extremists within them is determined to shroud the world in darkness and death. For years, they have been operating in the shadows, sowing discord within the empire, establishing heretical organizations, and undermining and shaking the people's faith. This kind of destruction is the most dangerous. Once faith collapses, the entire country will also spiral out of control. There are countless historical wars and tragedies caused by the madness of faith."
"Do you know what book you lent to the daughter of Duke Murak?" Bishop Ronis suddenly shifted the topic to the issue that Asa was worried about.
"I don't know." Asa found himself feeling guilty, like a child who had done something wrong and was waiting for an adult to pass judgment. Unconsciously, he had completely succumbed to the deeply ingrained yet understated authority of Bishop Ronis.
"That was a notebook left by Akibard, the founder of the Necromancer Guild. It contains various magical knowledge recorded in ancient script. More critically, it also contains a dark meditation technique that he supposedly created for the leader of the Necromancer Guild."
Asa swallowed hard, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. Bishop Ronis didn't seem to notice.
"Fortunately, no one has been able to truly master this meditation over the past few hundred years. Those who dare to practice it mostly die halfway through due to the backlash from the dark magical power within them. Twenty years ago, Sandru stole this book. I originally suggested Sandru to destroy it, but he stubbornly insisted that it was a great work. I couldn't force him, so it was left behind. Sandru told me he kept it in a very secret and safe place, so I wasn't worried, but I never expected you to find it, and that you would lend it out without knowing... I'm very concerned about the dark sorcerer you mentioned trying to obtain the leaf from the World Tree. If he intends to use the life force within it to counteract the backlash of the dark magic in the meditation, and if this thing falls back into their hands, the result could be the emergence of a necromancer king. At that time, not only the empire but the entire world could be at risk of being consumed by darkness."
This time, Asa didn't silently dismiss the situation as not his problem. This matter involved him and also related to Bishop Ronis and Sandru. He respected Bishop Ronis and didn't want to be scolded by Sandru, especially since this issue was indeed caused by him.
"However, I also can't make a big deal out of searching for this book. I suspect there are already many spies from the Necromancer Guild within the royal capital, and perhaps even several high-ranking officials have joined their ranks. If they discover the whereabouts of this book, it's very likely they'll get to it before we do. So now... I must ask you for help. Please retrieve that book... or... you could simply destroy it."
"I know you are a capable young man," Bishop Ronis said, patting his shoulder. "So I believe you can do it. I'm counting on you."
"Yes. I will get it back," Asa stood up and replied resolutely. He hated being ordered around, but he found it hard to resist a request, especially when it came from Bishop Ronis.
Ronis smiled and nodded at Asa, but suddenly he paused, as if he had noticed something strange about Asa's face. This surprise was just a fleeting moment; he quickly returned to his calm demeanor and asked, "Young man, where were you born?"
"The Kalendor Basin, the mining area in the southwest of the empire," Asa didn't pay much attention to the bishop's subtle emotional fluctuations.
"Oh," Bishop Ronis nodded with a smile, still appearing relaxed.
Duke Murak, watching this unbelievable scene, took a deep breath and put down the iron tube in his hand.
This was a long, cylindrical iron tube, one end thick and the other thin, with a piece of glass embedded in each end. It was a very strange object, likely invented by some dwarf craftsman. Like all their inventions, it didn't have any magic, but when one looked into the smaller end, they could see distant scenes very clearly.
He was now standing next to a window on the top floor of a tall building far away from the Magic Academy. Here, he could use this odd object to clearly see what was happening in the bishop's study.
The duke now knew the preferences, personalities, and habits of all the powerful individuals in the royal capital, but he knew nothing about Bishop Ronis.
It seemed that the bishop had no particular hobbies, his personality was unremarkable, and he didn't have any special living habits. Thus, the duke had no idea what he liked or disliked, or even what he was doing, making it impossible to curry favor or deal with him. Even though the bishop had no apparent political stance and did not visibly favor anyone, he had always been a crucial link in the entire power circle of the royal capital.
Having heard that the bishop had a special private room, the duke spent an amount equivalent to buying a small town to acquire this marvelous iron tube from a dwarf treasure dealer. Then he spent several days searching for a place in the city where it could serve its purpose.
Now, the duke would rather spend half of his fortune to buy a tool that could allow him to hear distant conversations.
Unfortunately, there was no such thing. Since there wasn't, he could only imagine.
What kind of identity was sufficient to meet Bishop Ronis without kneeling? How could someone sit on equal footing with him? What kind of relationship allowed the bishop to pour tea for him? How could he so intimately pat his shoulder?
It was simply unimaginable. The duke gasped.