Martial Online.

Chapter 425 The Deacon

?Neigh!

Two horses galloped through the nighttime streets of Hightown , their hooves pounding against the pavement as they raced towards their destination.

Soon, they saw a dimly lit church in the distance, a small flicker of light coming from the boarded windows.

The horses quickened the pace, and soon they arrived at the church, panting and covered in sweat.

Ambrose leaped out of the back of the brown-maned horse and helped Moriarty off the saddle of his horse.

"Argh…" Moriarty held his waist in pain, wincing as he tried to stand upright.

The church looked abandoned, as if there wasn't a single soul inside.

Ambrose pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped into the dark, musty interior.

"Excuse me?"

His echoing voice bounced off the walls, but there was no response.

Small lanterns flickered in the beams, casting eerie shadows on the dilapidated pews. The altar stood at the far end, covered in a thin layer of dust and cobwebs.

"Are you kidding me?" Moriarty stumbled and leaned against the wall, barely managing to stand. "No one is here…"

"Wait a second." Ambrose walked to the altar and knocked on one of the doors that led deeper into the church.

"Hello, is anyone here?" Ambrose called out, hoping to receive any response.

However, there was only silence echoing through the empty halls.

"Sigh, damn it." He heaved a sigh of frustration and thought about what to do next.

At that moment, the door slowly creaked open, even though there hadn't been a single sound coming from there before.

Ambrose's eyes widened in surprise, and he came across a fatigued-looking man with wild, disheveled hair. He wore deacon's robes, and his face bore a mixture of frustration and exhaustion.

"Who are you?" The man asked, his voice filled with weariness, and clearly didn't want to entertain any guests this late.

"Mister Priest, I need some help…" Moriarty walked to the altar while using the pews as support, his eyes looking hopeful. ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ɴovelꜰɪre.ɴet

The man looked over to Moriarty and said, "Are you hurt, young man? What you need is a doctor."

"N-no, this wound is only something you can heal." Moriarty stepped up the small stair steps to the altar.

Ambrose took out the cauldron filled with a fascinating purple-colored liquid.

"This is a potion that can heal my friend's wound. It's not something a doctor can heal, at least. We only need the priest's blessing; that's all."

The man looked at the potion with an intriguing look and could tell that it was very special.

However, he sighed and scratched the back of his head. "I am sorry, but I am not a priest. I am only a deacon…"

"Ngh…" Moriarty winced in pain and frustratingly clenched his fist. "Damn…"

"Can you call the priest, please?" Ambrose asked hopefully. "As you can see, my friend over there is suffering quite a bit."

"The priest is dead…" The weathered-looking deacon said in pain. "Him, and… all the others also died in that zombie outbreak. I am the only one left."

Moriarty sat down heavily, feeling the depression of having to live with this pain for quite a while longer.

Ambrose frowned in thought and said, "What we need is a holyman's blessing. I am sure you count as well?"

Moriarty's eyes widened in realization, and he wondered whether it was really possible.

"I am not sure…" The deacon paused for a moment before responding. "I guess we don't lose anything by trying, but I don't want to raise any false hopes. I have never actually blessed anyone before."

"That's good enough." Ambrose placed the cauldron on the altar and stepped aside to give the deacon space. "Just bless the potion."

"I'll try…" The deacon walked over to the cauldron and hovered his hand over it, then looked over to the altarpiece of the deity and began reciting some old biblical verses.

It lasted for several minutes as the deacon chanted with unwavering conviction, his voice growing stronger with each word.

At last, the deacon pulled back his hand and looked at the unchanged potion with a worried gaze.

"W-well, I did the blessing like I was taught to, but it doesn't seem like anything is changed."

"Well, we can only try it out." Ambrose took the cauldron and carried it over to Moriarty.

"W-what if it doesn't work?" Moriarty asked as he accepted the heavy cauldron in his arms.

"It shouldn't kill you, at least if I did it correctly." Ambrose said. "However, if the blessing didn't work, it would be as same as just drinking water; nothing would happen."

"Whoo…" Moriarty took a deep breath, put his lips to the rim of the cauldron, and took a big gulp of the potion.

He didn't stop drinking, even for a moment, and drank it all with ravinous haste.

After the cauldron was empty, he put it aside and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Did anything happen?" Ambrose asked.

"I don't think so…" Moriarty said, but then his stomach started rumbling, and the pain that had been wreaking havoc inside him for a couple of hours finally subsided.

The whip-caused wound on his soul healed at rapid speed, leaving behind only a faint scar.

"Ahh…" Moriarty let out a sigh of relief and smiled. "It worked."

"Whew…" Ambrose heaved a sigh and shook the hand of the deacon. "Thank you for your help."

"I am… happy to be able to help." The deacon smiled warmly in response.

After they finished their business at the church, they left, and the deacon watched as they departed.

However, he had a strange feeling.

"I swear I had seen him before." The deacon wondered. "Purple eyes, black hair, and that face… Hmm, where have I seen him?"

He felt like he had an answer at the tip of his fingertips but couldn't quite grasp it.

"I swear I have seen a picture somewhere outside. I haven't really gone outside since that day… but I swear that face is familiar."

The deacon picked up his coat and walked out of the church into the night air. He then took a short pause to collect his thoughts and take in the sight of the moonlit streets.

After that, he left through the gated entrance and walked down a moonlit sidewalk for a short moment before coming across a wall with pictures of missing people and flower arrangements on the ground.

In the middle of all those pictures, there was a face of a handsome purple-eyed man, but there was a big X-cross over it, and below that, the word 'Enemy' was written in bold, red letters.

"It was him…" The deacon thought out loud in shock and stumbled back in surprise. "Ambrose, the Black Demon."

However, he only felt surprised for a moment before shaking his head.

"A poor fellow, why did he come here?" He wondered out loud. "Almost the entire town hates him for what they think he did.

"However, the mayor said that he was innocent, and I believe his word, even though many don't because they would rather believe some news sources."

The deacon slipped his hands into his pockets and started walking back to the church without having any intention of reporting Ambrose's location to any authorities.

…

"After that, I have no intention to continue grinding." Moriarty held his waist as if he could still feel the pain. "Maybe I'll sleep instead…"

"Hmm, the tournament should start in the afternoon, right?" Ambrose asked.

"Yeah, about." Moriarty nodded.

"Where is your starting city?" Ambrose asked.

"Amaterasu." Moriarty responded.

"Well, then, that's good. So it's mine, should we go there now?" Ambrose asked.

"What for?" Moriarty asked.

"I want to see someone before the tournament," Ambrose said.

"Fine by me." Moriarty removed his temporary spawn from Hightown and nodded with Ambrose as they logged off at the same time.

The next time they logged back in, both appeared in the bustling market place of Amaterasu.