The Demon Lord's Bride (BL)-Chapter 662: The ball always rolls to the starting point

"A priest?"

Sore was half nervous half intrigued. There were not many priests important enough for the church to obsess over, but at the same time disrespected enough for them to use a Soulmancer rather than a Soul Meister--despite them clearly having the resources to find one.

"That’s what they said," the Soulmancer shrugged. "Weird, huh? Using a Soulmancer to call for one of their own."

The old man cackled at the irony of the world he lived in.

"At any rate, I need to know as much as possible about the person, but they only told me it was a priest using a spear--not even a name! They only gave me an item, but who knows if the soul even had a connection with that item! What an incompetent bunch," the Soulmancer grumbled. "Anyway, I still did it since they paid me and all, but there was no answer."

"Meaning?"

"The soul is not in this world anymore, or the person is still alive--or the items only have little significance to that person. I told them this kind of thing repeatedly, but they kept calling me a fucking liar, those fucking money-sucking pigs!" the man spit on the dirty floor. "I almost snatched away the item ’cause I was so pissed."

Sore narrowed their eyes in pondering. If it was indeed their young master, then of course the Soulmancy would not work. The young master was still alive after all. Maybe this crook wasn’t a liar after all.

But damn...what kind of hell would unleash if the Lord found out the church tried to force-summon his beloved’s soul and control it.

...it might not be Wrath who marched for war.

Sore’s expression turned rigid at the thought, but the Soulmancer misunderstood it. "Don’t look at me like that--I was annoyed and it looked expensive. Kind of like a pearl, a gem? I thought it’d fetch good money in the black market since I knew they wouldn’t pay me--oh, but you won’t have to worry about that, will you?"

The Soulmancer cackled again while Sore’s headspace was in turmoil. What in the Lord’s fire--a pearl-like gem?! In supposedly young master’s old possession no less?!

Even the dumbest member in their squadron would be able to deduce what it was.

Swallowing discreetly, Sore asked in a nonchalant tone. "So? Did you get it?"

"Fuck man--you think I’d be here if I did? I’m here because I failed and they chased me around, fuck!" the Soulmancer spat in annoyance. But he quickly changed his expression and leaned forward expectantly. "Anyway--we’re good, right? My rate is a hundred percent for real."

Sore wanted to end the meeting right away and called Heraz that instant, but he took a deep breath in the guise of resignation. "...how long can you prepare it?"

"Sweet! Just give me seven--no, five days!" the Soulmancer raised his hand and grinned. "Oh, and it’s not cheap so...can you like, give me a down payment?"

"And see you running away with it? In your dream."

"Aww, man!" the old man scratched his neck. "A contract, then! Let’s have a contract, okay? You can even use the one with a curse on it."

"Haa..." Sore glanced outside impatiently. "I’ll do it for four days."

"F-fine! I’ll get it done in four days!"

Sore nodded and dropped a bag of coins. "I’ll take care of the contract."

Trying to calm himself, Sore shuffled discreetly toward the edge of the empty region right after finishing the contract with the Soulmancer. He made sure no one was around before taking out a crystal container. He opened a small hatch on top of the container, only enough for his mouth to fit.

Quickly, in a language only he and his squadron knew, he whispered what he had learned from the Soulmancer into the container. The scattering fog inside the container condensed as it ate the whisper. Once finished, Sore closed the top hatch and grabbed the bottom part. Pouring his mana, he twisted the bottom cap to unlock it.

"Go."

The fog, dark as the night, shot from the container with a speed that even the most trained elf could hardly follow. It traveled through the land and water, mountains and valleys, and many kingdoms in between. Approximately thirteen minutes later, the dark condensed fog found its home--one of the lanterns above Heraz’s head.

"Sir, Sore’s lantern light up," one of the squad members told Heraz and the shapeshifted raised his head in intrigue.

With narrowed eyes, Heraz took the lantern down and grasped the rowdy fog before stuffing it inside his mouth. From the first moment the information entered his mind, his iridescent eyes opened wide. The members stopped what they were doing and waited with a mix of curiosity and anxiety.

It didn’t look good. Smelled like more work.

After two minutes, Heraz finally blinked and left the table. "Continue with what you’re doing now. I need to go see His Lordship. Make sure that Necromancer is ready in four days."

"Are you going to see His Lordship?"

Heraz paused in front of the slightly opened window and, after contemplating for a few seconds, told his subordinates with a wry smile. "Brace yourself."

"Damn it! How big?"

Heraz looked at the moonless night sky and sighed. "War," he said before his body melted into formless mist. "Prepare for a war."

* * *

Midnight news had never been good.

Having a loyal retainer meant they’ll wait for the optimal time to not disturb your rest as much as possible. If they breached this clause, it only meant the report was worth the disturbance.

And it was.

I was in the middle of serving my baby his midnight milk when Natha turned sharply toward the window. Not the balcony, but the window. He creaked the frame open slightly and a strange mist poured inside our bedroom, before condensing into the familiar figure of Heraz.

"Huh?" I stood up with Shwa and his milk bottle in hand.

"Young Master..."

He even addressed me first instead of Natha?

"I think we found the last relic."

"...what?!"

"Waaah!"

Shwa whined as I accidentally hugged him too tight from sheer shock, and Natha took him from me. "Oh, I’m sorry, baby. Stay with your daddy for a bit, okay?"

Fortunately, Shwa was obedient this time--perhaps because he could still see me anyway. "Please elaborate," I grabbed a pillow on return and hugged it tightly while facing Heraz.

Which was a good decision. The more I listened to his explanation--which surprisingly stemmed from that silly soulmancer search--the more my back felt cold, and the more the pillow got squashed. Natha even put Shwa on the bed because he got rather worked up hearing about them trying to use soulmancy on me.

"What...how?" I could only stare blankly at the empty air. "Why..."

I--I mean Valmeier--had the relic from the start? In his possession?! H-how? For all I knew, Natha got my stuff from my inn room after he brought me to the Lair. Granted, he only took anything that seemed valuable, but I didn’t think he--or his team--would miss anything looking like a pearl. Also, I didn’t recall having anything like that in Valmeier’s possession.

I grasped my head and tried to swim through Valmeier’s memory. While I had it stored inside my head, it wasn’t something I experienced myself, so I couldn’t recall it easily. And if Valmeier didn’t really care about those memories, it would be as vague as a foggy morning in the mountain.

Unfortunately, this one was such a memory. Something inside a box; if it was a gem, Valmeier wouldn’t care about it. He might carry it simply because the old priest told him to. Just like with the necklace, no one had the chance to tell him anything.

Within that vague memory, however, my mind flashes around something. "The debt contract!"

I sprung to my feet and rummaged through the bottom drawer of the nightstand, where Natha put Valmaier’s box. Inside, I had thrown the useless debt contract that the church gave me--you know, for the spear.

Do you remember how they were so reluctant about giving Valmeier the spear? They ended up ’lending’ him the spear, and that was how I got in debt. But folks--you know how we usually had to put in something as a guarantee in case we couldn’t pay the debt back?

Yeah. That. You know where this is going.

Valmeier, a boy arriving in the Capital for the first time, naturally had nothing precious to be used as a guarantee. The only thing he had that was close to it was...yeah, a pouch that seemed to contain a pearl-like gem. The church was probably taking it casually without knowing what it was at that time.

Because, if they knew, they would either treat Valmeier better to be loyal to them, or kill him on the spot to get the relic for themselves.

Yeah. Damn it! Why didn’t I think about it? Why it had never crossed my mind that Vashakin would leave another bead with his son, thinking that it would bring Valmeier to their grave if the necklace couldn’t.

I opened the debt contract and showed it to Natha. There, listed as an item used as a loan guarantee, was a small pouch containing a single ’iridescent bead’.

The seventh relic.