With a solemn expression, Link stepped forward and pulled back the white cloth covering the corpse’s face.
Looking upon the serene face with its tightly closed eyes, the corners of his eyes twitched subtly.
Standing right behind him, Flamme was finally able to see the priest’s true features.
Surprisingly, he did not look at all like she had pictured.
His face lacked the warmth and benevolence the common folk associated with men of the cloth, instead subtly exuding a harsh, fierce coldness.
He had high cheekbones, deeply sunken eye sockets, and thin lips—showing not a trace of the gentle shepherd he was meant to be.
He looked much more like a traveler who had spent years struggling to survive a perilous journey, and had now, at long last, settled down at a roadside inn for a solid, deep sleep.
“Are you Link, the one Father Anduin was waiting for?”
The two turned toward the voice.
A youth holding a burning canon of scriptures had quietly approached from behind without either of them noticing.
He looked to be around Flamme’s age, with a messy mop of curly black hair that seemed uncared for in quite some time.
His voice carried a thread of heavily suppressed emotion.
Link looked at him intently for a moment before nodding.
“I am.”
“As you can see, the Father has passed away. During his life, he spoke of you often and told us your stories. I think… the person he cared about most was you.”
Upon hearing this, Link fell silent for a brief moment before speaking.
“Since you know who I am, you should also know what we are. He was the only human in our party of four. Human life is fragile like that, so dying is only natural.”
Hearing Link speak so callously, Flamme’s brows furrowed slightly.
She quickly tugged at his sleeve on the sly, hinting that his words were entirely inappropriate.
Link merely shook his head without offering any explanation, keeping his gaze fixed on the boy.
“Did he ever tell you that he used to steal wine to drink?”
The youth froze for a moment, then shook his head.
“What about how he would sneak off to sleep while everyone else was training? Did he mention that?”
The boy’s expression turned somewhat peculiar.
“He even told the village chief’s daughter that he’d seen a dragon do a backflip, inviting her over to his place that night. You’ve surely heard that one, right?”
The youth was utterly stunned, completely at a loss as to whether the man was telling the truth or making things up.
Just as Link was about to dish out even more dirt, someone finally couldn’t take it anymore.
“Step down, Frock.”
The voice came directly from inside the coffin.
Upon receiving the order, the youth named Frock gave Link and Flamme a helpless look, turned, and scurried off.
Link casually plopped himself down on the edge of the coffin and grinned at the person inside.
“Yo, if it isn’t Archbishop Father Anduin? What’s the deal—did you rise from the dead, or did you feel the Goddess’s calling and get a final burst of life?”
Anduin’s raspy voice sounded, carrying a hint of helpless amusement.
“Link, your mouth is still as foul as ever. Always so good with blessings.”
Shortly after, the white cloth was pushed aside from within, and a withered hand caught the edge of the coffin.
“I’m truly curious… were you born with a heart of stone? Finding out that I died, you didn’t even shed a single tear. Not a shred of sadness on you at all!”
Flamme stood behind Link, staring dumbfounded at the scene.
Just a moment ago, she had been immersed in the somber grief of mourning the deceased, only to see the dead man spring back to life in the blink of an eye.
She was no fool; she immediately grasped the bizarre trickery going on between the two.
So this is the legendary atheist human priest of the Hero’s Party Master mentioned.
Just like her master, this man wasn’t a normal person in the slightest.
She couldn’t help but wonder: Are there actually any normal people in their group?
Link reached out, grabbed Anduin by the wrist, and hauled him directly out of the coffin.
After standing up, Anduin stretched his stiff body before looking over at Link.
“Let’s go. We’ll find a quieter place to talk. You didn’t come empty-handed this time, did you?”
“Of course not.” Link shot him a glance, motioning toward Flamme behind him.
Anduin’s gaze swept past Link, landing on the two bottles of wine held in Flamme’s arms.
Only then did he nod in satisfaction, turning around to lead the way.
A few minutes later, the group walked through the church.
Anduin pushed open a side door, leading the master and disciple into his private quarters.
The room was simply furnished, containing nothing more than a plain table, a few chairs, and a statue of the Goddess tucked in the corner.
Anduin sat down casually on a chair.
Taking the wine from Flamme, he instantly popped the stopper and leaned in to take a whiff at the mouth of the bottle.
“Smells pretty good. This shouldn’t have been cheap.”
Then, Anduin eyed Link with deep suspicion.
“Would you really be willing to spend your money to buy wine of this caliber for me? This isn’t some fake wine brewed up with herbal concoctions, is it?”
Anduin had good reason to be suspicious; Link’s stinginess was notoriously famous, after all.
For him to suddenly bring out such fine wine naturally aroused doubt.
“Listen to yourself! How could that be? Am I really that kind of person?” Link countered defensively.
“Besides, my disciple already told me that drinking fake wine can kill a person. As an old friend, of course I wouldn’t want you dying so soon.”
Watching Link’s insufferable, smug face, the corners of Anduin’s mouth twitched repeatedly.
“Is that so? Why am I having such a hard time believing you?”
Link didn’t bother explaining further, simply making a inviting gesture that clearly meant: Try it yourself and you’ll see.
Anduin eyed him for a few more moments before pulling two wine glasses out from a drawer beneath the table and setting them down.
Clearly, these were kept on hand at all times.
Closing his eyes, he began to savor it carefully.
Seeing Anduin drink with such gusto, Flamme’s eyes widened.
This was a far cry from the elegant image of a church archbishop she had in her mind.
After savoring it thoroughly, Anduin slowly opened his eyes and smacked his lips.
“Mm, not bad. Good wine.”
Just then, he noticed the strange look in Flamme’s eyes.
The young girl’s gaze was filled with utter confusion and bewilderment.
He chuckled, swirling the empty glass in his hand as he spoke.
“Little girl, you can’t judge a person by their cover. Appearances are usually nothing more than an illusion.”
Flamme listened, her face a picture of confusion.
She clearly hadn’t fully grasped the meaning behind Anduin’s words.
Just as she was about to ask for a proper explanation, Anduin provided a live demonstration.
He refilled his glass and tossed it back in another single gulp.
With that second glass down, Anduin’s face flared a faint red, looking noticeably tipsy.
That look on his face wasn’t that of an archbishop at all—it was the exact mug of a hardened old drunkard who practically lived in a tavern.
Seeing this, Flamme finally understood.
So this old guy’s stern, righteous archbishop persona was completely fake!
In his daily life, in front of outsiders and believers, he needed to maintain an air of dignity, so he kept himself rigid.
But now, reunited with an old friend and with two glasses of wine down his throat, he instantly shed his usual disguise.
Seeing the old fellow gulp down two large glasses so quickly, Link cursed inwardly.
If he didn’t start drinking now, it would all be gone.
He hastily grabbed the glass Anduin had poured earlier and chugged it down.
Letting out a long breath, he gasped in satisfaction.
“Ah, wonderful! Wine really is magical stuff—it cures all ailments! The essence of grain, the elixir of youth!”
As they spoke, Anduin casually poured himself another glass.
The two of them exchanged glasses back and forth for several rounds.
Only after they were well-lubricated with drink did the conversation finally shift to serious matters.
“Alright, down to business. I can roughly guess why you’re here this time. Magni wrote to me a while back. Though he didn’t explicitly mention what kind of magic it was, you know full well I’ve never had any interest in magic.”
Saying this, Anduin turned his gaze toward the statue of the Goddess in the corner of the room.
“I only offer praise to the great Goddess.” He raised his glass in a gesture of respect toward the statue before taking another sip.
“Of course I believe you. Let us toast to the Goddess, then.”
“To the Goddess.”
“Alright then. Back then, when you scammed the King out of his money, you didn’t use all of it just to bribe your way up the ranks, did you?” Link pointed to the robes on the man’s body, which were clearly of archbishop caliber.
Anduin didn’t deny it; instead, he spoke with a touch of smugness.
“You don’t get it. This is an official posting—a iron rice bowl, you get it? Besides, didn’t your money go toward building that Dragon Keep of yours?”
At this, Link stroked his chin, a thoughtful expression coming over his face as if he had suddenly remembered something.
“Tell me… if the King ever found out that the funds he sponsored us with weren’t actually used toward defeating the Demon King, do you think he’d be upset? Would he want to chop off our heads and hang them at the city gates for display?”
“Who knows? Either way, we ought to thank him for the funding.” Anduin refilled both glasses, pushing one toward Link.
“Then let us toast to the King!”
Link smiled knowingly.
The two raised their glasses together and shouted in unison, “To the King!”
The two glasses collided, letting out a crisp clink.
Watching these two drunkards from the side, Flamme was already silently complaining in her heart.
Just from the fragments of truth these two had blurted out in their drunken state, she could roughly guess that they had committed a great deal of unconscionable acts in the past.
“Though, coming back to the topic…” Link put down his glass and looked at Anduin.
“When we went to ask the King for funding back then, I didn’t even show my face, alright? If heads are getting chopped and hung on the walls, it shouldn’t be my turn, right?”
Anduin raised an eyebrow, putting on a solemn face.
“Hey, hey, hey, that’s not how responsibility is assigned! Sure, I was the one who showed my face, but the overall scheme was your idea! Strictly speaking, you’re the mastermind, and I’m an accomplice at best.”
Link curled his lip, looking at him with utter disdain.
“When I brought up the idea back then, I remember very clearly that certain people didn’t object in the slightest. What was it you said again? ‘Getting scammed this time can count as letting the King visit the grassroots to experience the cruelty of society early.’ It’s just going to be a bit tougher on the Heroes who come after us—it won’t be so easy for them to get funding anymore.”
After exposing each other’s dirty secrets, the two exchanged a mutual laugh.
Then, Link looked over at Flamme beside him.
“Still, I haven’t completely let the King down. The disciple I’m raising is guaranteed to defeat the Demon King in my place.”
Not to be outdone, Anduin countered, “My disciple won’t be any lesser, either. My teachings will spread to every corner of the world. Once someone truly comprehends the essence of the doctrines I leave behind, sooner or later, someone will defeat the Demon King!”
“Heh heh heh… then it seems that money of ours was ultimately spent on the grand cause of defeating the Demon King after all!”
“Yup, exactly!”
“Then this glass is to ourselves!”
“To ourselves!”
Saying this, the two reached peak merriment, slinging their arms around each other’s shoulders.
Off to the side, Flamme rolled her eyes repeatedly.
These two were truly masters at finding excuses for their own shameless behavior.
Just then, Link suddenly recalled something.
“Was that youth earlier your disciple?”
Anduin stared absentmindedly into his glass.
“No, most of them are just ordinary people.”
“Ordinary people?”
“Yes, all ordinary people. Those with talent have already received the Goddess’s favor, haven’t they?” Saying this, Anduin poured himself another glass.
Hearing these surprisingly philosophical words, Link was rather taken aback.
The two continued to exchange toasts.
After rounds of banter—and even toasting everyone they had ever known—the last bottle of wine was finally drained dry.
Only after regretfully licking up the very last drop of wine did Anduin set down the empty glass.
“Is it really alright for you to stay here with me for so long? I heard from Magni that you only stayed at his place for a bit before leaving—and even swiped a few things from him on your way out. Let me tell you upfront, I don’t have anything of value here.”
Seeing the old fellow acting like he was guarding against a thief, Link waved his hand nonchalantly.
“Ah, don’t worry. The stuff I swiped from him will last me a while. Why would I take your things?”
Even though he said so, Anduin’s face remained written with I don’t believe you.
Left speechless, Link added, “What do you have to be worried about anyway? Is there anything here even worth swiping? What am I gonna do, carry off the Goddess statue?”
Anduin thought it over and decided there was indeed truth to those words.
Seeing that he finally believed him, Link threw an arm around his shoulder and grinned.
“Out of the four of us in our party, you and I still have the best relationship.”
“Give me a break.” Anduin shot Link a look of slight disgust.
“Who you have the best relationship with, you know best in your own heart. Isn’t it just because my lifespan is too short? Magni is a dwarf, he can live at least another century or two, but you’re different.”
“Alright, if you want to pity me, save your breath.” Anduin waved his hand repeatedly, his tone devoid of any regret, carrying instead a quiet sense of happiness.
“Decades have their own way of being lived, just as centuries have theirs. The time spent adventuring with you guys is already more than enough for me to savor for the rest of my life.”
Link suddenly stood up, staring at him.
His face was slightly flushed from the alcohol, but his eyes were exceptionally serious.
“Anduin.”
“I want to apologize to you. I once believed that human passion was fleeting. Please forgive my shortsightedness. In the past, I always thought you becoming a priest was just a passing whim, just playing around… I just never imagined you would actually manage to make yourself an archbishop.”
Anduin’s gaze fell upon the candlelight.
“It doesn’t matter. My faith was fake all along anyway. How do you know me becoming an archbishop wasn’t just a passing whim?”
Link stared at his face, seemingly judging the truth behind those words.
After a moment, he spoke again.
“Then… is your name the only real thing about you?”
Anduin shifted his gaze to Link’s face, a meaningful smile gracing his lips.
“How can you be so sure that my current name is real either?”
“Hahahahaha! Looks like you’re still the one better at lying, kid!”
“You’re not so bad yourself!”
For a time, laughter filled the small room.
After a long while, Link pulled back his smile and asked once more, “So, did you really become an archbishop just for fun?”
The question brought a long silence upon Anduin.
Only after a good while did he speak again.
“Lately, the political situations across the major kingdoms have been volatile. Plagues caused by war break out frequently, and dead bodies lie everywhere. But the high-and-mighty Goddess cannot see these trivial matters.”
“If you must ask why I became an archbishop… then I can only say that perhaps I couldn’t bear to watch these suffering children, uprooted from their homes, end up dying in the streets.”
“As an archbishop with no faith whatsoever, I’m not sure if I’ll ascend to Heaven after I die. But having done so many good deeds, if that day ever comes, I think I’ll try deceiving the Goddess, telling her that I truly believed in her. Surely… she wouldn’t mind, right?”
Gazing at his old friend’s rather charlatan-like demeanor, Link struck while the iron was hot, finally voicing his true objective.
“In that case… do you want to try the taste of deceiving the Goddess in advance?”
Hearing this, Anduin seemed to regain a bit of sobriety.
He asked gravely, “What do you… mean by that?”
“How about helping me find a special kind of magic from your sacred scriptures?”
“What kind of special magic could possibly be tied to deceiving the Goddess?”
Link stared at him with burning eyes, pronouncing each word clearly.
“Magic that brings the dead back to life.”
As the words fell, Anduin’s drunken stupor instantly cleared by more than half.
The expression on his face turned dark and uncertain.
Link didn’t rush him, quietly twirling the empty wine glass in his hand.
In Anduin’s understanding, rejecting death itself was the closest thing a human could do to becoming a god.
Ever since becoming an archbishop, he had been doing just that—healing the critically wounded was already the absolute limit of what he could achieve as a mortal.
Yet, that was ultimately only approaching godhood.
Only reviving the dead was true divine power!
To attain the power of the Goddess with a mortal body…
he was indeed immensely interested in such a feat.
No one knew what consequences would arise from doing so.
He had spent his whole life pretending to believe in a deity, but in truth, he had only been fooling mortals.
Now, someone was inviting him to join a gamble centered around deceiving the Goddess herself.
If he failed, at worst, he would simply die.
At his age, he had lived long enough anyway.
If it succeeded…
now that would be interesting.
Why not…
take advantage of his remaining time to play one final, grand game?
“I agree.”
“I’ll spend the remaining decade or so of my life to play one last game with you.”