Rebirth of the 8th-Circle Mage

According to Hoosler, only a small number of people could be chosen by the Demon God as Messiahs.

Since they could physically tolerate having just as much demonic energy as demonic creatures, that meant Messiahs had the power to control most demonic creatures.

Henry only then realized that the voice inside the Chest belonged to the Messiah.

But that was the extent of the Messiah’s abilities. One was born to be a Messiah, so they didn’t start from the bottom like other believers. Thus, they were blessed with the ability to communicate with the Demon God and had enough demonic energy to control the demonic beasts, but that was the pitiful extent to their abilities.

On the other hand, the leader of the Nephrams was different.

Listening to his story, Henry learned that Hoosler had originally been an intermediate Warlock serving an intermediate demon. However, when the Church of Peace hunted down all the Nephrams, the Pope spared one single cowardly Warlock to look for the Messiah—Hoosler.

In any case, ever since his life had been spared, Hoosler had been helping the Messiah slowly work toward summoning a new Demon King into the world, and the Pope had been secretly supporting them all this time.

As Henry was listening to all of this, an idea suddenly flashed through his mind.

“Wait a minute… Then is the Pope also a Warlock?”

“Sorry? What do you mean?”

“No, wait, letrephrase it. Did the Pope steal sof the Warlock's powers by keeping you guys alive?”

“N-no… No matter how ambitious Ross is, I’ve always known him as a devout follower of Irene…”

“Really?”

Hoosler had nothing more to lose, and he was at Henry’s mercy, so Henry didn’t think he was lying. However, if the Pope was indeed a loyal follower of Irene, why had the Shalka’s needle pointed to the moon when he had used it?

Regardless of anything, the Pope had to be brought before a court, and Henry would save his questions for when that tcame.

“Hoosler, then everything here—the poison, the magic barrier, the skeletons, the Death Knights—all of this must’ve been your work, right?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Being the coward that he was, Hoosler feigned ignorance as though he didn’t want to further upset Henry with the facts.

However, Henry insisted on his interrogation.

“There’s no point in lying to me. If what you’ve been saying is true, the Messiah couldn’t have created all those things, which means you cup with all those traps in order to protect him. Am I wrong?”

“...”

Henry’s explanation was spot on, so Hoosler could no longer deny the facts. Having been an active intermediate Warlock, Hoosler had been forced to grow stronger in order to find ways to protect the Messiah, who spent most of his tsleeping, completely vulnerable to all kinds of threats.

Henry wasn’t trying to condemn Hoosler. He was giving him another chance by acknowledging his hard work and dedication to becstronger.

“The creation of Death Knights, huh… You’re not even a necromancer, and yet you’ve managed to create such things. Isn’t that right, Hoosler?”

“Y-yes…”

“A-a job?”

“That’s right.”

Just after Henry mentioned the creation of Death Knights, Hector cried at the top of his lungs.

“Squawk! Squawk!”

***

“So that’s what happened.”

“That’s right. Sir Palo, we must deal with him right away.”

“With whom again?”

“Who else? That bastard Henry!”

Ross Borgia I had secretly contacted Palo, one of Arthus’ faithful apostles, just as he had planned. He had told him everything that had happened with Henry, not omitting anything.

However, Palo’s reaction was unexpectedly indifferent.

“Hmm, I don't think that's necessary,” said Palo nonchalantly.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“You think the almighty Arthus didn’t predict that?”

“...!”

The Pope was lost for words at Palo’s unexpected argument.

“Haha, I’m just joking. Indeed, just like you’ve said, we should deal with that Henry right away, but Sir Arthus has specifically ordered us not to touch any of them during the one-month period he has given them,” explained Palo.

“Really? Sir Arthus said that?”

“Well… I think he means to say that a meal is only good if you anticipate it for long enough, and I have no intention of spoiling Sir Arthus’ delicious meal.”

“I-is that so…” the Pope trailed off.

At that, Palo’s lips curved into a sinister smirk, and said, “At least I myself don’t intend to intervene, but I think this is a rather good opportunity for you to prove your loyalty to Sir Arthus, wouldn’t you agree?”

Before he continued, Palo placed his hand on the Pope’s forehead, causing a violet glow to seep into his skin.

“Again, I won’t interfere with Sir Arthus’ delicious meal, but I do believe a competent follower should be able to prevent any inconveniences that may disturb the preparation of that meal, should he not, Sir Ross?”

“Y-yes! That’s right!”

“Haha, wonderful. I’ve just given you Sir Arthus’ blessing. I’m sure you know what this means, right?”

“Yes! Thank you, Sir Palo!”

The Pope’s voice was once again full of enthusiasm as things were going the way he wanted. In addition, Palo had already blessed him with eternal youth by using Arthus’ power, which had been enough for him to swear his allegiance.

…And now he received another blessing?

The Pope couldn’t help smiling; he was barely able to contain his excitement for this new power that was growing in him.

***

“Ugh, I’m so bored.”

Caughall had been Henry Morris’ sole servant within the family. However, since all the sons had left the estate to pursue their dreams of gaining power and fame, Caughall was doomed to spend his days in utter boredom.

Of course, he had heard from the occasional traders that the Eurasian Empire had fallen, but even if a new empire had risen, nobody would care about a small fief on the eastern edge of the continent.

Thus, Baron Hans Morris, the head of the family, decided to go about his life in his own little world unless something cto him from the outside. After all, he was a retired soldier, his hair already growing gray; he had nothing else to look forward to aside from his son’s return after becoming successful.

After checking the time, Caughall uncorked the vial he had brought with him. It contained Miracle Blue, which he had learned how to make from seeing Henry make it in the past.

Caughall had never forgotten Henry’s miracle to this day, so whenever he had money, he would buy green crowflower and other ingredients for Miracle Blue and experiment with them.

After much experimentation, he had cto the conclusion that infusing all the ingredients into a pot of boiling water was the most effective method. He had discovered that merely by accident.

By having Henry’s choice of ingredients simmer in a pot of water, Caughall could get a revitalizing elixir. However, that was it.

However, Henry’s Miracle Blue was special; he had made his version with a special process that only he knew about. Of course, Caughall wasn’t aware that Henry had a special recipe for the Miracle Blue.

For many years now, Caughall had been entertaining the illusion that he was growing stronger every the drank his special elixir and felt energized. Even now, he was dreaming about a successful future, about the day when he would be just as great as Henry had been in the past.

But just then…

“Huh?”

Caughall was killing tas usual, daydreaming in a sunny spot near the entrance of the village. However, he suddenly noticed an unfamiliar figure approaching from a road that almost nobody was using.

He got up from his seat and kept looking at the unfamiliar visitor as he approached. Seeing that the visitor was lightly armed, Caughall assumed he was a soldier.

Caughall started feeling nervous because he thought that a soldier traveling alone in these times was probably a deserter.

But the closer the soldier got, the more anxious Caughall became.

Caughall noticed that the soldier’s appearance was quite shabby, which was why he thought the soldier was either a deserter or a straggler. However, as he thought about it more, Caughall managed to convince himself that the soldier wouldn’t be able to do anything even if he had bad intentions.

Moreover, he realized that it would be beneficial if he went ahead and asked the soldier squestions.

Given the current situation, that was definitely a possibility. If that soldier was indeed here to serve him an imperial draft order, Caughall would pack up right away and flee the estate in a heartbeat.

No matter how much he had trained and how many elixirs he had drunk, Caughall hated the idea of risking his life in simperial war.

Having his mind finally made up, Caughall emerged from the bushes and called out to the soldier approaching the estate.

“Hey!”

The soldier was surprised when he spotted Caughall.

***

“Sorry? An obituary?”

“Tha-that’s right.”

It turned out that this soldier had cfrom the Caliburn Fortress to inform him that Henry was dead. He handed Caughall the obituary and a box filled with consolation money.

As he took the obituary, Caughall’s face went blank.

“I can’t believe Young Master is dead…”

“Officer Henry was a great soldier, but he tragically died trying to contain the recent outbreak of demonic beasts.”

The soldier continued to explain everything even though Caughall looked completely dazed. When he finally said everything he had to say, the soldier removed his helmet, gave a salute, and slowly walked away in the direction he had cfrom.

“I can’t believe it…!”

Caughall ran straight toward the estate in disbelief to deliver the news of the death of Young Master Henry.

***

“That should do it.”

Henry watched Caughall from a distance as he was running toward the estate. He also saw the shabby-looking soldier walking away from Caughall.

After a while, the soldier stopped in front of Henry.

“I’ve delivered the obituary and consolation money just like you toldto.”

“Good work.”

The soldier had carried out his task perfectly, so Henry snapped his fingers, causing his appearance to distort and turn into that of an old man.

The soldier was none other than Hoosler.

Henry had disguised Hoosler as a soldier from Caliburn Fortress to deliver his obituary to the Morris family so that Baron Hans would think he was dead. He thought that since he didn’t intend to restore the relationship with Hans anyway, it was better to put an end to it and not make Hans wait endlessly.

Of course, this fake obituary would crush Hans’ heart at first, but Henry didn’t think that he and Mrs. Morris would grieve that much for him. If their son, their actual son, was still with them, they would’ve treated him like an animal, leaving him behind and neglecting him until the day they died.

Of course, Henry had a bit of sympathy for them, but he decided not to let it bother him.

“Let’s get going, Hoosler.”

“Y-yes!”

Having cut ties with his forgotten family for good, Henry cast Teleportation.

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