Chapter 97: The Church of the Stars (9)

“Kind lightstone, restore our wounds with your Megaheal!”

Simon’s hand glowed with greenish light. The light cut on Barbas’ arm closed on its own, to the mesmerization of all other Templars on the deck.

“Are you convinced now, Barbas?” Beatrice asked.

“I admit it’s… impressive to see someone so young cast a Tier IV prayer,” Barbas conceded. “Maybe he won’t be so useless after all.”

“The recovery was not instantaneous though,” Cubirah noted. “What’s your Life affinity, Simon?”

“Weak,” Simon conceded. “I thought affinities didn’t influence prayer spells?”

“I’m afraid they do,” Beatrice corrected him. “The light megalith may send you its mana and power, but you’re still the one channeling the prayer itself.”

There were three affinities that behaved differently from the elemental ones like Fire and Frost: Support, which covered buffs, debuffs, and beneficial status effects; Ailments, which influenced ailments and other negative conditions; and Life, which determined the potency of healing effects. A strong Life affinity increased the potency of the magical healing someone applied to others and received, while a weak one did the opposite.

In short, Simon’s Megaheal prayer would only pack as much punch as a Heal prayer two tiers below it, and would provide even fewer benefits if he applied it to himself. At least he now had a recovery option that didn’t cost mana or his followers’ lives.

“A Megaheal prayer is nonetheless a potent tool, since Simon can reliably heal our wounds at no mana cost to himself,” Beatrice concluded. “Did you have any luck casting Kindling?”

“No,” Simon conceded. “I couldn’t get that prayer to work, or Radiance Slash for that matter.”

Cubirah chuckled. “You are the first Templar I’ve seen who complains that he cannot cast Tier V prayers. Even our Class doesn’t let us unlock those through Perks alone.”

“Keep training and give it time, Simon,” Beatrice said. “The light megalith must not consider you ready to use those prayers yet. This will change one day.”

Simon wasn’t so sure. He found it extremely strange how he could cast Tier IV prayer spells without any issue, which was the upper limit of his Miasmic Archmage Perk, only to abruptly fail with Tier V ones. He was starting to believe the two were linked somehow.

Simon would confirm his theory the next time he obtained a Miasmic Archmage upgrade. He should receive it soon if the Overlord Class followed the same pattern of upgrading his spellcasting tier every ten levels. And if he could suddenly cast Tier V light megalith prayers then… it would raise as many questions as it answered.

Nearly two weeks had passed since they boarded the Maidenfair for Bujan, which reminded Simon just how long such trips were compared to airship flights. It had been a relatively uneventful trip except for a brief storm on the seventh day and an encounter with an imperial naval patrol on the tenth, which ‘Silk’ took care of with a bribe. Simon spent his time either training with his fellow templars, mentally coordinating with Shabram, or trying to shadow ‘Silk’.

The last part had predictably proved to be a futile task. He simply couldn’t find the woman on the Maidenfair half the time, either because she used Assassin Perks to turn invisible or somehow teleported away at times. Likely both. She otherwise kept to her crew and treated Simon’s group cordially, though he knew she had picked up on his intentions.

Otherwise, Lady Beatrice had proved a harsh taskmistress and regularly drilled the group on the deck at night on both tactics and Bujan. She had entrusted Simon with a sword specifically tailored to inflict heavy wounds on Aquatic, Beast, and Undead type creatures, which should be their most common foes, then ensured he familiarized himself with the group.

True to his size and standoffish demeanor, Barbas was a no-nonsense bear of a man whose might and defenses compensated for his deficient spellcasting. He was expected to serve as their frontliner, drawing enemy attention and engaging stronger foes in melee alongside Beatrice.

Meanwhile, Silence bore his name well. The man was both a mute and an introvert, to the point that he preferred to eat his meals away from the group in solitude. Simon only caught a glimpse of his face once during training, and all he learned was that the man was likely a native of Uyo from his skin’s darker tone. He was frighteningly quick, thanks to his passive Perks obtained from a secondary Class, and regularly laced his claws with poison. He would be serving as their tracker and scout.

Cubirah was the friendliest of the trio and the only one who tried to get along with Simon, perhaps because she had been one of Beatrice’s squires like him. She was level fifty-five, second only to Beatrice herself, and mostly favored supplementing her swordsmanship with buffs and disruptive effects.

Each and every one of these Templars was in their fifties when it came to levels, so Simon was mostly expected to serve as a healer and pack mule while they handled the heavy lifting. This suited him just fine. Sticking to the sidelines would let him hide his true abilities.

“Land!” the lookout in the crow’s nest shouted out for all to hear. “Mermaids on the shore!”

Simon and his companions looked to the north, where the shadow of an island appeared over the horizon under the cloudy, grey sky. An imposing mountain surrounded by jagged hills and sharp cliffs dominated the distant landscape.

Bujan and Mount Perun were in sight.

Originally an underpopulated backwater country mostly inhabited by elves, scalefolk, and goblinoids, the island had been colonized by men before the Doom, first as a haven for pirates preying on the trade between Illusea and the mainland, then as a sanctuary for refugees fleeing Mardok and then Gargauth’s rule. The island’s council chose to submit when threatened with violent takeover during Balzam’s Reformation, which allowed them to keep limited autonomy under a viceroy.

Bujan’s western and northern parts remained underpopulated for a reason that became clear the moment its shore came into view. Simon spotted three individuals he briefly mistook for shifters lounging on rocks until he noticed their fish tails.

It was his first time seeing a mermaid in the flesh, and the descriptions didn’t do them justice. The creatures resembled lovely, naked female humanoids from the waist up, albeit with squamous blue or red skin, long fins for hair falling down their backs, and gills on their throats. Their lower bodies, however, shifted into an iridescent scaled fish tail around their ‘lady parts’ rather than legs.

The first of the mermaids smiled sweetly and waved at the sailors upon noticing the Maidenfair. The second stared intently at Simon, and the third stared at Barbas while massaging her sex in a rather obscene invitation.

“Do not be deceived, Simon,” Beatrice warned him, her eyes checking the dark waters for fins peeking out of the waves. “The males must be waiting in ambush nearby to attack us. The females are mere lures.”

“They will end up skewered and roasted on a campfire if they try to bewitch us,” Barbas said. To his credit, the mermaids’ charm did not affect him in the slightest. “Our troops should have wiped out these vermin during the Reformation. What a wasted opportunity.”

“I would keep those thoughts to yourself, Ser,” ‘Silk’ warned him as she appeared on the deck out of nowhere, much to Simon’s annoyance. She clearly took delight in startling him. “They do understand our language.”

“Then we should kill them,” Beatrice said. “We were told not to leave witnesses alive.”

“We have an agreement with the locals, so they will keep quiet about our presence,” Silk reassured her. “I cannot speak for anyone else you find on the mountain, but scalefolk know better than to cross us.”

“And how did you secure their cooperation?” Cubirah asked curiously.

“With bribes, what else?” ‘Silk’s smile reminded Simon of Bert’s. “Scalefolk and humans aren’t so different. I daresay they’re more practical and down-to-earth than we are. They do not let nonsense such as friendship or morals get in the way of good business. You can learn to get along with them.”

“I rather doubt that,” Beatrice replied with a sneer, her finger pointing at rotten ship husks sitting on the nearby reefs. “This group has claimed its toll of victims.”

From what Simon had learned, mermaids and their male counterparts, the tritons, were aquatic cousins of the landbound scalefolk and among the most infamous pirates of the high seas. The females usually used enchanted songs or their bewitching appearance to lure ships to crash on their shores, while the males then sprang out of the water to devour the surviving sailors and loot their cargo. They were easier to deal with than demons and goblinoids, enough that they could coexist with local settlers, but Simon’s experience with Casval and Vouivre had taught him their kind was not to be easily trusted.

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The ability to speak was not a sign of humanity, only intelligence.

Either way, this group of mermaids didn’t sing or bother them as the Maidenfair navigated treacherous reefs towards a small cove located at the mountain’s foot. The Templar squad climbed down from the ship onto a small boat with bags of supplies.

“I bid thee goodbye here,” ‘Silk’ said upon dropping them off on land. “It was a pleasure ferrying you to this barren land.”

Beatrice snorted. “You served your purpose, smuggler, no more. You would do well to leave and ensure no one else sees your ship.”

“I shall.” ‘Silk’ spared Simon one last wicked smile. “I would wish you good luck, but we all know you won’t need it.”

Simon wasn’t sure what she meant by that and simply ignored her. He watched as the Maidenfair departed onto the sea with her, leaving them stranded at the foot of Mount Perun.

“A long ascent awaits us,” Beatrice said before giving her squad one last debrief. “You have each been entrusted with a teleportation gem tied to the Lighthouse. Our mission is to seize the artifact, then return to His Excellency. Anyone who discovers us must be eliminated. Do you all understand?” Everyone nodded in response. “Then let us proceed.”

What followed was a long and perilous journey.

Mount Perun stood a bit below fifteen thousand feet in height, and though the High Confessor had provided them with pre-Reformation maps of hiking trails within the lower areas, those quickly turned out to be severely outdated. Silence’s scouting expertise proved invaluable; with the Templar constantly finding safe paths for them to take as he advanced ahead of them. He would often return with blood on his claws, though no one asked for details.

Temperatures hovered above freezing during the day and plummeted below that into the night, with the cold growing more severe as they ascended. The group regularly drank frost resistance potions every four hours or so to more easily shoulder the weather. Everyone present was a professional focused on the mission first and foremost, so they mostly stuck to climbing without any small talk.

Unfortunately, the mountain was crawling with monsters.

Hardly an hour passed without horse-sized wolves, flying crystal-shaped ice elementals, or frozen undead corpses belonging to unlucky alpinists, beasts, or the occasional scalefolk trying to ambush them. Simon’s allies easily dispatched all comers thanks to their superior levels and abilities, but allowed him to finish off some of their foes to let him gain experience. He had reached level 6 in the Templar Class by the second day of their ascent.

Level 3 Templar Perk: Holy Blade (Active): You can imbue any melee weapon you wield with the Light element for additional damage. The effect is lost if the weapon leaves your hands.

Level 5 Templar Perk: Fundamentalism I (Passive): You are immune to Terror and fear-related effects.

Leveling up in Templar taught him two things: first of all, Vassal Classes were indeed pale imitations of the Noble ones they were based on. Six Templar levels barely let him mimic a fraction of what the Paladin Class could already do from the start.

Second, Lord Paimon’s old lessons about passive increase in base stats rang true. Simon noticed he had gained a point in almost all of his stats except Intelligence, which he received no points in, and two points in Vitality. He would check if those enhancements, while minor compared to those he obtained from wearing the Class outfit, carried over into the next reign. While Simon preferred to focus on leveling-up the Overlord, considering only its Perks carried through the reigns, strengthening his base stats would let him cover some deficiencies like his abysmal Agility.

Things proceeded smoothly until the second night, when Silence returned to their campfire from a scouting mission. The masked Templar communicated with Beatrice in hand signs, and though Simon couldn’t see much in the dark, whatever they discussed annoyed their leader.

“You let him go?” Beatrice asked, a scowl deepening on her face. “At the peak?”