Chapter Nineteen: Sacred Water

The night deepened, the moon climbing high to cast a cold, silvery glow over the camp on the ridge.

It was quite some time before the two nuns returned from the villager’s cottage where they had gone to bathe. Seeing their soft, glistening hair, Eric guessed they had even washed their hair. He had wanted to bathe himself, but he could still tolerate the grime for now and didn't want to disturb the villagers at this late hour.

Alana and Sophie warmed themselves by the campfire for a while before retiring to the tent Eric had originally occupied. Eric himself made a patrol of the camp, gave a few instructions to the night watchmen, and then headed off to rest.

Early the next morning, Eric awoke to the sound of commotion outside his tent. Peering out, he found many villagers had arrived. When he asked the yawning sentry why, the guard replied that they had come to help.

Help? With what? The sun hadn't even risen yet—surely preparing breakfast didn't require so many hands.

Eric was bewildered for a moment, but as his mind cleared, he realized what was happening. His speech from the day before must have had an effect; the villagers truly felt relieved. Coming to help meant securing some work, earning a bit of pay, and, more importantly, scouting the situation for themselves. They wanted to know when the undead would be completely purged and when the mine would reopen. Seeing things with their own eyes was always more reassuring than hearsay.

Still, far too many people had arrived. A few middle-aged women, finding no work to do, noticed Eric staring blankly at the crowd and took the initiative to approach him. They began fussing over him, offering to help him into his armor, which he hurriedly declined.

"They have such heavy hands... damn, it’s already red."

Eric ducked back into his tent, rubbing his chest where one of the older women had pinched him quite hard before pulling on his chainmail. The country folk were enthusiastic and unrefined, seemingly having forgotten his noble status.

As the morning sun climbed higher, everyone in the camp was roused from their sleep, whether they liked it or not. The villagers had even brought their own ingredients—for which they would be paid—making breakfast much more substantial than the day before.

After eating, Eric didn't immediately assemble his team. Instead, he rested for a while and summoned the captain of the guard to discuss the day’s plans. He knew the layout of the mine perfectly, and after yesterday’s personal descent, his memory was even sharper.

"The internal terrain isn't actually complex," Eric said, using a wooden stick to sketch a rough map in the dirt, marking out the main tunnel and the side branches. "A main shaft leads straight to the deepest part of the earth. Every branch we encountered—like the one we explored yesterday—contains an elite-level undead creature."

He pointed to several side paths. "Since we intend to reopen this mine, we cannot leave a single undead behind. We must clear them all out."

Leslie nodded and added, "But if we have to purify them after killing them, it’s going to take a significant amount of time."

This was the part Eric found troublesome. Although he and Alana could purify souls during combat, there were only two of them, and their efficiency was limited. Yet, they couldn't just leave them be; if the souls of the undead weren't purified, they would linger in the mines as vengeful spirits, wailing and haunting the place, which would hinder future mining operations.

"What do you propose?" Eric asked the captain. Since Leslie had brought it up, he likely had an idea.

Leslie explained, "I mean, we could have a few brave villagers follow us into the mine. We kill, they carry; they can haul the corpses out to be burned."

"...Burned?"

"When we arrived the day before yesterday, didn't the people here say they dealt with the first few corpses that escaped by killing them and then burning them with holy water?" Leslie reminded him.

That jogged Eric’s memory. "Does that actually work?"

Leslie hesitated, looked at him, and then replied, "Since the local monks are doing it, it must be effective."

Seeing that Leslie was pinning his hopes on those poor monks who couldn't even master basic divine arts after days of study, Eric felt a bit disappointed. But he said nothing; professionals were best consulted on professional matters. And the professionals were already awake, sitting by the extinguished campfire, sipping broth.

"Sister Alana."

Eric stood up and walked over, greeting Sophie beside her before relaying Leslie’s suggestion to her.

Alana set down her broth and pondered for a moment. "If the holy water is of sufficient purity, it can indeed achieve full purification."

Full purification meant the same thing as combat purification: it would completely dissipate the cursed souls.

"What degree of purity is required?" Eric asked. He wasn't sure how holy water was made, but he knew that even the holy water provided to his Lord’s estate by the monastery was diluted—not out of deceit, but because it was a waste to use it at full potency.

The Mother Superior thought for a moment. "One-fifth... no, to deal with undead of this level, one-tenth purity should suffice."

Eric asked again, "There are so many corpses; it will require a large amount. Can the local church provide it?"

Alana shook her head. "Not this much. Holy water is produced by the nuns of the monastery... why do you ask?"

Noticing the subtle expression on his face, she paused.

"Nothing," Eric shook his head, clearing the improper thoughts that had suddenly popped into his mind. "I was just curious about how holy water is made."

Alana didn't think much of it. "It’s simple. One only needs to pray over pure water and cast the corresponding divine arts. The trouble is that it requires constant prayer and a significant amount of time, which is why only the nuns at the monastery have the energy to do such things. Generally, the holy water provided by these small churches is diluted from the concentrated essence they receive from the monastery."

Eric understood. He turned to Leslie and said, "Find someone to head back to the city, go to the Lamail Monastery, and request more holy water concentrate. Take a carriage, and bring back as much as they have."

The captain bowed and acknowledged the order, but when he looked up, his gaze shifted to Alana.

She quickly understood and called to the young nun beside her, "Sophie, you should accompany them back to the city."

The monastery belonged to the Church, which operated independently of the Lord’s administration, making things less convenient to arrange, but with a messenger of the Saintess present, it would be no problem.

"Ah... am I going back alone?" Sophie asked, stunned. Once she recovered, her eyes kept darting toward Eric’s face.

Eric pretended not to notice, and Alana spoke up, "We cannot spare anyone else, which is why Sophie must make this trip. Don't worry; with the Lord’s guards protecting you, there will be no danger on the road."

"Alright," Sophie said, finally yielding to her superior’s command.

Eric asked a few more questions regarding the execution of the plan before heading to the mine to scout the terrain and find a spot to pile and burn the corpses.

When Sophie and the Mother Superior finished breakfast and headed toward the mine, they saw Eric standing in a corner, digging a pit with the guards.

"Why are they digging a pit?" Sophie asked.

Alana looked over. "Likely to make it easier to collect... the ashes."

She paused for a moment and turned to Sophie. "Return to the city as soon as possible. The monastery needs time to prepare the holy water, and the journey takes time as well."

Sophie nodded, glanced once more at the corner of the mine, and turned to find the captain of the guard.

Leslie quickly arranged for a carriage to take her back. Since it was the only vehicle on the road, the guards pushed the horses to their limit. Sitting alone in the carriage, Sophie watched the forests receding outside the window, nervously twisting the hem of her habit.

It wasn't just the speed of the carriage that made her nervous, but the fact that this was the first time since entering the monastery that she had been tasked with something alone.

Stand on her own? She had never expected such a thing of herself, yet she couldn't help but envy the way the Mother Superior remained calm and composed in every situation.

The Mother Superior had said that growth comes naturally with age, but Sophie was both hopeful and skeptical. She couldn't imagine what she would become; her thoughts swirled, wondering if she would eventually end up as this or that Mother Superior in the massive monastery, or perhaps an even more cold and aloof high-ranking official.

The Mother Superior had also said that, aside from the Saintess, everyone began their journey as a simple nun.

Sophie couldn't imagine Alana as a mere novice nun, either. Did one change slowly, or all at once?

After a long time, Sophie snapped out of her trance to realize they were no longer in the wilderness. The old monastery where she had spent a night was just ahead.

As the carriage stopped, her heart began to hammer against her ribs. She couldn't even hear what the guard, who had come to help her down, was saying.

When the old Mother Superior of the monastery heard that the Saintess’s messenger had returned, she hurried out to greet her. Seeing her, Sophie’s mind went almost blank. She stood there for a moment before stumbling through her request, blurting out sentences as they came to her.

"We need holy water... er, a lot of holy water..."

Fortunately, the old Mother Superior seemed very patient. She listened to her request and repeated it back to her, and it turned out to be exactly what Alana had instructed.

"Yes! That’s it!"

It wasn't so hard after all!

Sophie felt a wave of relief. It was only then that she realized her true anxiety hadn't been about whether she could obtain the holy water, but whether she would fail this errand. Now that her task was complete, the rest was up to the monastery.

The good news was that the Mother Superior agreed to her request immediately; the not-so-good news was that they had sent a large batch of holy water to the surrounding churches just yesterday, and they would need time to produce more to meet the mine's needs.

Sophie had no choice but to wait.

It wasn't until the sun had crossed the sky and was about to set that she finally headed back with a carriage full of holy water.

By the time she reached the small town of Valais, it was already dark. The carriage drove directly up the northern ridge and stopped at the entrance of the mine. From the carriage, Sophie saw that the mine was illuminated by torches, burning brightly. As she stepped out and walked in, she immediately saw the high pile of corpses stacked in the corner.

The holy water had arrived, and the cremation could begin.

She looked away, suddenly noticing that the atmosphere was abnormally heavy. The crowd was gathered together, surrounding something.

She squeezed through until she reached the center, where the kneeling Mother Superior Alana looked up at her, her lips trembling.

Eric lay on the ground before her, covered in blood, completely motionless.