[A/N: Check para comments for images.]

Because of Sylvester's little show, they got late by an hour when leaving Pitfall. Every single one of the eight thousand town folks wished to kiss his little hand. He had to oblige, or his little hymn would have been wasted.

However, he put Miraj to work and told him to scare away as many people as he could by scratching them and making them think they were not invited because they had sinned.

But that later backfired as these people came crying and laid down beside Sylvester's feet as he was about to board the stagecoach. They asked that he bless them and accept their apology. Surprisingly, many confessed to their sins in fear of Solis. Many of them had committed crimes that were never solved in the town—ranging from theft to murder.

Religion was one hell of a tool, Sylvester was reminded. And he held a pretty big golden stick over it.

…

Sylvester's return journey to the Holy Land was uncomfortable as he sat inside the stagecoach. The seats had nearly no cushioning, and there was no such thing as spring suspension in this world. So even the slightest bump on the road would make him jump.

He would have loved to sit outside, but Sir Dolorem suggested he remain inside as the word had spread of the God's Favoured being in the area. This was also why the twelve Inquisitor Knights who had caught the elven woman were accompanying them.

"Mum, will you teach me healing magic?" he asked, having nothing better to do.

She giddily agreed. Which mother wouldn't love to teach her child something she loves? "Of course, dear. But since you don't know the runes or incantation, let's try the most basic healing magic that only uses elemental magic."

"Okay!" He sat opposite her, maintaining eye contact and focus. It was just the two of them in the stagecoach, so they felt comfortable… three, in fact. Miraj was sleeping beside Sylvester like a melting potato.

"I heard you learned wind and fire elements from Sir Dolorem? He's a very kind man. I hope you don't trouble him very much. The knowledge he parted with for free would empty the fortunes of many families. Now, look at my hand." She always gave him her little lesson on morality and got to work.

"Basic healing is nothing but the use of fire and water magic. But you can use air to replicate the effect. This healing is helpful for internal concussions and flesh wounds. With the use of warmth and cold, one can relax the body's muscles or freeze them if it's too painful." She shared her knowledge.

'What's this… I know it already! This is basic science. I want to learn about miracle magic.' Sylvester told himself.

But he entertained her as she seemed too excited and happy teaching him. Perhaps she wanted to cherish these moments because they wouldn't have as much time to spend together in the future. Even more so, knowing he will become busy once his school starts.

"Can you fix a cut limb?" He asked as he was curious about healing limitations.

"Oh, I can reattach the limbs as long as they are not destroyed. But you can not regrow it if you have completely lost it. Maybe the Holy Father can, but I'm not very sure."

'So this means I need to be careful with my body. I'll keep that in mi-' His thoughts were interrupted as he felt the stagecoach slow down quickly.

He quickly looked out of the glass window by moving the curtain. "What happened ou… Ah!"

Outside, he noticed the land on both sides of the road was riddled with dead bodies of men in various kinds of armour. Blood was splattered on the grass, and the bodies were full of stab wounds or arrows. Some bodies were mutilated to the point that they appeared like a heap of random meat.

He poked his head out of the window and asked Sir Dolorem. "What happened here?"

The knight first said a short prayer for the fallen and then explained. "Who knows? The Duchy of Colorwood has not been very peaceful. The Counts have started infighting, and Duke Grimton is too weak to stop them. And to add to this, his children are wastrels. Truly a sad sight to see, all of us are the men of the same faith, yet kill for a small piece of land."

This was a side of the world Sylvester was witnessing for the first time. Until now, he had only seen the church inflicting violence and demonstrating authority. This time it was the noble side of the world. However, this was not too different from Sylvester's past life. Countries fought for land, so he understood this situation. If you are weak, either get strong or be prepared to be plowed by others.

However, the entourage did halt and tried to leave as soon as possible, mainly because it was unknown if the battle was over or if someone was still eyeing them.

But, they couldn't go far before the sun started to set. It was even more dangerous to ride at night. So after a few kilometers away from the battlefield, they set up the camp and lit up the fire in a nearby forest.

The fire was man's best friend at night in these wretched lands. The creatures of the night came in many shapes and sizes, looking for only one prize—mankind.

Sylvester and Xavia were going to sleep in the stagecoach itself. At the same time, Sir Dolorem and other guards, along with accompanying Inquisitors, will pitch tents around the stagecoach. But first, they had to cook some dinner.

They usually travel with all the needed utensils to cook and eat. They also had fresh meat and vegetables from Pitfall Town and gifts from the people. So they soon cooked some meat stew and baked some bread made of flour, flaxseeds, salt, red wine, honey, and yeast.

This was the most common meal that most armies and travelers ate. But the food generally tasted bland as the use of spices was rare. But that didn't mean the food didn't taste good. Also, butter was common since it helps give energy for long, arduous daily physical tasks.

Sylvester sat in the middle of Xavia and Sir Dolorem and sometimes took a bit of extra meat from his plate and sneakily gave a few munchies to Miraj, who had plastered his face close to the plate, ogling at the meat chunks.

The blazing fire sound mixed with the calm wind of the air, brushing past the leaves, created a soothing natural harmony. Although it was dark, the region had the most colorful variety of trees that released pleasant aromas, which made the dinner enjoyable.

The sky was also clear, and the two moons shined bright. Now the only thing lacking was a guitar and a song in a soft voice. But sadly, the world lacked musical instruments other than drums used in wars.

"Sir Dolorem, you served with the Inquisitor High Lord. Do you know when the next Mass Inquisition campaign begins? We can hit the tribes in the Pentapeak Mountain range this time." Sir Raymond, the leader of the 12 Inquisitors, asked as they ate.

"Not anytime soon. The last Inquisition went horribly wrong. A few units went rogue, killed, and r*ped multiple peaceful villages. Lord Inquisitor was enraged and called for the other Guardians of the Light to quickly travel the lands and bring all the criminals. As a result, we had a mass execution by hanging thirteen thousand Inquisitors inside the Holy Land a few months ago."

The twelve Inquisitors took a long cold breath as they heard this. Sylvester suddenly felt a slight chill in his body and vibration on the tongue. He knew that these men were scared right now. 'They must have done something wrong before catching that elf too.'

"It happened with the Holy Father's approval?" Sir Raymond asked.

Scoffing, Sir Dolorem blurted, "In the Holy Land, not even a leaf falls without the Holy Father's wishes."

"Haha, of course, let's talk about something else." Another Inquisitor tried to change the topic. Then, he directed his words to Sylvester. "God's Favoured, do you know about the legend of the Shadow Knight? They say that he looks like a flying dark hooded man. He has no face and constantly burns in white flames..."

'Is he trying to scare me?' Sylvester noticed a slight hint of smugness.

However, when Sir Dolorem opened his mouth, the Inquisitor got scared out of his wits. "He's not a Legend, Sir Druig. He's a being of unimaginable powers that punishes the corrupt sinners, whether they be a man of faith or not. I saw him once with the Inquisitor High Lord.

"The wind suddenly turned cold, and the day sky became cloudy. The animals stopped making noise, and the world seemed to have become still. Then mist appeared, covering the landscape in acres. Finally, the melodious whistling resonated, followed by humming in a deeply surreal voice, and the figure of the hooded robbed man appeared in the distance.

"Anyone who dared a glance at him fell to his knees and froze down like ice. I, too, fell right there… unable to utter a single word… just beside the Inquisitor High Lord. Then as the whistles came closer, more men started falling to their knees. Finally, the sky turned dark as if it were an ominous night. We all prayed for forgiveness, but I noticed the figure passing me and going to other Inquisitors.

"One by one, he stopped in front of an inquisitor, and the white fire that surrounded him would extend and touch the men. It all lasted ten minutes, and nobody saw him leave... Then the sky turned back to its previous brightness, and the world resumed its activity.

"But when we looked back, there were a dozen bodies still kneeling, that appeared as if every ounce of blood and water had been dried from their body. Their muscles, bones, and veins appeared as clean as the sky then. When I tried to touch one of them, the body disintegrated like ash… the man had ceased to exist in a flash."

"I-Inquisitor High Lord didn't fight him?" Sir Ronald asked.

He shook his head. "No, in fact, he prayed to the being while kneeling, calling it the Ghost of the First Pope, Luther Vas Hermington. As only he was known to hold such strength and whistle."

"Y-You're jesting, right? How can a ghost be this strong?" Sir Druig tried to dismiss the story. But his stutters told a different tale.

"Ah, it's getting cold now. The wind from Divine Desert is strong tonight. We should sleep." Sir Dolorem suggested, ignoring the Inquisitor's doubts.

"Hmmm hmm…"

Sir Druig laughed and looked around. "Haha, who's trying to scare me now?"

However, everyone's face appeared to have the same expression—horror and confusion.

They looked around, but there was no animal nearby either. In fact, it appeared awfully quiet all of a sudden. Also cold… even when there was a bonfire lit right near them.

"W-Why… Why would he appear here?" Sir Dolorem stuttered.

Sylvester was curious and looked around. It had undoubtedly become quiet, and the clear sky, full of stars and showing the twin moons, now had dark clouds. The forest became pitch black beyond where the bonfire's light could go.

The humming kept intensifying. Then it stopped for a second, and the whistling took its place. The rhythm was systematic, as if the creator knowingly made it sound that way.

"No! No! He can't be real!" Sir Druig jumped to his feet and brandished his sword.

Sylvester was somewhat nervous. 'Is it a real ghost?'

"Do not fight him! Do not anger the Shadow Knight!" Sir Dolorem tried to warn them as the mist began to appear around them.

"Max, come here quick!" Xavia grabbed her son and hugged him tightly to her chest. He didn't protest either, as the coldness was truly too much. To the point that all their mouths were releasing fog.

"Hmm, Hm…"

"STAY AWAY!" Sir Druig cried in panic.

'What did he do that he's so scared of? Did h-" His mind stopped thinking in an instant when his eyes laid on the terrifying figure standing behind Sir Druig.

"Ah!" He felt his body limp, losing all power and freezing in one position. He, however, saw everything. First, the hooded pitch-black robbed with no face, no legs, and white fire on the back and sides as if tentacles appeared. But for some reason, it was hard to keep looking at it as the being seemed to be vibrating at high speed, creating blurry afterimages.

Thud!—Every single knight fell to their knees. Some even laid down flat. Xavia, too, froze, but she didn't see anything as her face was plastered on Sylvester's back.

Low hums of Sir Dolorem resonated as he was kneeling with eyes closed and arms crossed even before the dreadful phantom reached them. "Oh Lord, we are mere travelers on a mission to heal. With the Child blessed by the light, I kneel…"

'W-What are you?' Sylvester tried to speak, but his thoughts remained confined in his mind. He felt utterly powerless against it. No hymns, no light magic, no fire magic… nothing worked. It was as if… he was paralyzed.

The uneasiness at he thought that he wouldn't be able to do anything even if this being wished to kill him angered him. He mustered all his strength in his little body to break free of the invisible chains.

However, even the Inquisitor High Lord couldn't fight it. His attempts, too, were doomed to be in vain.

'Argh…!' Veins popped up on his forehead as he fought the internal battle.

Woosh!—Suddenly, Sylvester felt a gust of wind hit his face. He turned his eyes forward, and there it was… the ghost stood directly in front of him, its faceless head looking down.

'A-Am I the target?!'

[Check this para comment to see the Shadow Knight I drew.]

[A/N: Yo, Today is this Ape's BIRTHDAY! So give me stones and make this Ape happy.]

___________________

I WANT THEM CREAMY STONES!

**420 Stones = Bonus Chapter!**

APE TOGETHER STRONG!