Chapter 33
Veris, who was unfolding a blank scroll, paused and looked up in confusion.
Why did Sylvain open that secret room?
Is there anything he needs inside?
After frowning and thinking for a while, Veris paused, thinking to himself, "No way."
He destroyed almost all the information about Sylvain, and in the eyes of the world, Sylvain had no connection with the Seven Gods.
He personally destroyed the few fragments of writings collected in the Royal Academy when he decided to adopt Sylvain's reincarnation.
There might be some remnants in the Lor'theran royal treasury; after all, they had a deep connection with Lor'theran back then, and he couldn't just arbitrarily destroy the royal family's possessions.
As for the Papacy, he had all of Sylvain's belongings organized and placed in that secret room.
Although it's called a keepsake, there aren't actually many items.
Veris tilted his head and thought for a while before continuing to write the scroll. The High Papacy had requested several hundred copies, saying they were needed by the Royal Academy, apparently for the preparation of the freshman trials.
He wrote hundreds of copies in one night.
He kept repeating the same incantations, his hand still gripping the quill pen, but his eyes were already glazed over, and he was starting to drift off.
He thought about the eight inexplicable coins, the resurgence of the Seven Gods, his terrible constitution, and finally, Sylvain's inexplicable return to the High Papacy and the opening of that secret chamber.
Could it be that the will from a previous life has manifested and influenced Sylvain?
This seems to be the only explanation.
Veris paused, looking down at the beautiful incantation on the scroll. Magical elements were embedded into the scroll with each stroke of the pen, shimmering and beautiful.
A sudden hope rose in his heart: would Sylvain regain his former memories?
After all, even Yannis's remnant soul still retains its memories.
But soon he scoffed, thinking that the possibility was slim.
Yannis was a wisp of a dead soul possessing his gouged-out eyes, while Sylvain, and the other gods, were truly annihilated, their souls and spirits destroyed.
He shook his head, no longer dwelling on these matters. In any case, no matter how much trouble those old guys caused, he had ways to deal with it.
The continent of Icarus, hundreds of years later, is no longer the chaotic land it once was.
The seven gods' faiths were all attributed to him, and he didn't think those gods could fight him.
When he finished writing the fiftieth scroll, Sylvain finally returned.
He pushed open the study door, and Veris, without looking up, said, "This table is big enough, you can sit across from me, so we don't have to go to the Papacy to move a table."
Sylvain stood at the study door, looking at the person sitting upright with their head bowed in the bright light, pursed his lips, and still asked, "Aren't you curious why I opened the secret room?"
He watched the quill pen stop moving in an arc. Veris's hair was dry and a little messy. After hearing his words, she simply put down the pen, leaned back in the soft chair, and stretched.
The neckline of that yukata was now slightly more open.
“If you want to know anything, you can ask me.” Veris’s eyes were smiling, and his tone was almost seductive. “Those old objects don’t prove anything. I know everything.”
Sylvain stared intently at the man, his face remaining calm. After a brief silence, he finally made up his mind.
"Are we alike?"
He felt there was no longer any need to hide it.
Veris blinked, not understanding what he was saying: "Huh? Who are you talking about?"
Sylvain's hands clenched at his sides. For the first time, he didn't hide his actions. A dark glint flashed in his eyes as he whispered, "You adopted me, wasn't it because I'm his reincarnation?"
“Otherwise?” Veris retorted.
He, the Pope, had nothing better to do than wander around the Amberi Mountains for so long, in the freezing cold, as if he wanted to lift up the entire mountain range and dump out his dearest friend. If he wasn't the reincarnation of Sylvain, what was he after?
The flames overhead were no longer as scorching as before. Sylvain's breathing was almost nonexistent. He lowered his head, his face as pale as his hair, and said in a hoarse voice, "I understand." Just like in the past, he responded softly to Veris.
"Ha...were you worried about this before?" Veris suddenly remembered Sylvan's strange behavior earlier. It turned out that he had discovered that he was a reincarnation. He thought that someone had made Sylvan unhappy.
It's close to the time when Arnold appeared.
Could it be that Sylvain's divine nature has been revived, which is why he noticed it?
Veris frowned, but out of concern for his close friend, he said to Sylvain, "I wasn't planning to tell you, but now the signs of the Seven Gods' revival are getting stronger. If you feel unwell, be sure to tell me."
Sylvain's true form... is extremely averse to humans.
"And feeling irritable is normal." He thought for a moment about the interpretation of the god's divine nature in his memory, and then added.
Sylvain found it hard to listen anymore, so he quickly walked to the other end of the desk. Veris had thoughtfully prepared paper and pens, and even the magic book he had previously organized had been moved aside.
The pile of notes blocked most of Veris's view, giving him a brief respite.
His voice was low, but clearly audible in the space where only the two of them were: "I understand, let's deal with these first."
Veris's reaction was completely unexpected.
He was frank, without even thinking too much, and even asked a question in return.
The reason Sylvain was treated differently was simply because Sylvain was the reincarnation of his close friend, the Pope known to the world, who pitied all people and showed no favoritism.
Wandering the world, he was a free-spirited poet.
In the church murals, he is depicted as a god who loves the world.
Veris hadn't worked with anyone in a long time. Long ago, Sylvain was copying magic spells at the other end of the table, writing new poems, and he didn't think much of it.
But now, he was somewhat agitated. Sylvain's pen tip touched the paper, making a very faint scratching sound. Moreover, the other person was not using a scroll like him, but a thick notebook, so the sound was almost non-existent.
His thoughts wandered, flashing back to his days with Sylvain in Albion, but these images were quickly replaced by memories from hundreds of years ago.
Even so, Veris continued to work quickly, completing more and more scrolls. He then casually tossed those scrolls aside, spread them out, and piled them up.
Suddenly, Sylvain stood up.
Veris tensed up, though he didn't know where the tension came from. His quill seemed to be broken too; it ran out of ink when he wrote a single character.
He stared at the scroll for a second before remembering that the ink needed to be changed.
Sylvain walked to his side without saying a word, reached out and rolled up the haphazardly piled scrolls one by one, then carried them out in batches, probably placing them on the table outside.
Veris was briefly left alone in the study.
He put down the quill pen, ruffled his hair, and pressed his brow.
Are you tired?
Sylvan's voice rang out at the door. Veris looked up and met those green eyes. The young man's expression seemed unchanged, but he could clearly sense that Sylvan was in low spirits.
And he was quite depressed, almost as depressed as when he first heard he was leaving Albion.
He glanced at the quill pen, then stood up and said, "I'm going to change my clothes."
It must be the clothes that made him uncomfortable at work.
The second floor hadn't been used yet; the windows were half-closed, the dusty smell had dissipated, and the air was filled with a fresh scent. Veris walked toward the room he had chosen, his brow furrowed the whole time.
He closed the door, took out all his clothes, absentmindedly picked out a few, and untied his bathrobe. As the silk slid against his skin, he suddenly realized something.
Although he didn't think there was anything wrong with it, being with Sylvain while wearing only one piece of clothing seemed a bit... unrestrained.
Has this happened before? I don't think so.
It wasn't as peaceful as it is now back then. Sylvain liked to dress very warmly and then demanded that he dress very warmly as well. The weather was unpredictable back then, and it was cold most of the time, but he didn't object.
So why is Sylvain so depressed?
As soon as Veris put on his trousers, he sat down on a soft chair and began to think.
Did he know that he was actually someone else's reincarnation? But what's so strange about that? He had looked closely, and the body was exactly the same as Sylvain's, even the soul was the same. They were originally the same person, just younger.
But... if Sylvain minds, then it's not impossible.
Thinking about Sylvain's sudden return to the Papacy and his visit to the secret chamber, Veris inexplicably felt a sense of guilt.
He shook his head.
The memory continues backward, is it because of the incident of giving the wrong staff? He has already moved on to a new past, and Sylvain isn't the kind of person to be petty, is he?
A discussion about fathers and friends?
That's possible, after all, he made Sylvain call him father in the past few years, but he didn't want to!
He hadn't even considered making Sylvain the Holy Son at first!
However, I briefly considered kicking out the Lortheran royal family and giving them to Sylvain.
Lortheran... well, we've known each other for a while, it's a bit unethical to do this.
Becoming a Son of God was the only way he could calculate that would allow Sylvain to share the faith.
Veris lowered his eyes, reached into the air and pulled out an unopened bottle of wine, then pulled out a glass.
He poured himself a glass of wine, and the aroma of the opened bottle filled the air.
He downed glass after glass; the alcohol wasn't enough to make His Holiness the Pope dizzy, but it did give him a brief moment of mental relaxation.
Long, slender fingers held the rim of the cup, which hung limply. The young man sat in the corner of the room, shirtless, staring at the pattern on the carpet. After a long while, he let out a heavy sigh.
He placed the cup on the small table next to him, removed his palm, and the eight coins reappeared.
With his heterochromatic eyes fixed on the eight coins, a threatening voice echoed from the corner of the room: "You'd better give me a proper answer this time."
After saying that, following the familiar steps, he laid the eight coins out on the table one by one.
He leaned closer, no longer afraid of the outcome this time. After seeing the patterns on the eight coins, he couldn't help but mutter a curse under his breath.
Why not me?
Negative: [Ignore him]
Veris wanted to tell himself that the divination had gone wrong, but the tone was almost exactly the same as Sylvain in his memory.
He was about to put the coin away expressionlessly when, under his gaze, the pattern on the coin suddenly changed.
Veris jumped to his feet, his face filled with terror.
He first used magic to instantly cover the room, then the attic, but found nothing.
No one can escape his search; he is confident of that.
After searching through them several times without finding anything, Veris finally looked at the eight coins again, and an absurd answer came to mind: Could the pattern on the coins be Silvan's?
After staring at it for a while, Veris gritted his teeth and flipped the coin over. Seeing the other side, he slumped back into his chair, covering his face with his hands.
The new divination result is different from the previous one.
On the coin that was supposed to be on the front, the reverse side appeared.
If an explanation is absolutely necessary, then the combined meanings of the positive and negative aspects are quite clear.
The words are filled with contempt and condemnation for Sylvain now.
There also seemed to be an attempt to curry favor with Veris.
“Sylvain has really gone mad.”
Veris murmured, her ear tips, hidden beneath her stray hairs, inexplicably burning hot.
He could even insult himself; aside from the possibility of him going mad, he couldn't think of any other reason.
And... the insults were so offensive, they were truly appalling.
He took a breath and carefully put away the eight coins. Although the results of the divinations had been bizarre, they were things he had played with with Sylvain back then, and he couldn't bear to throw them away.
Since Sylvain himself is criticizing himself, the problem must not lie with him... right?
Veris consoled himself, put on his clothes, and decided to go back to work; he had only written a little over a hundred scrolls.
As soon as he opened the door, he saw that the bathroom at the end of the corridor was closed, and the sound of water reached his ears.
Sylvain is taking a bath.
The thought popped into Veris's mind.
He continued walking forward, and the stairs were in the middle of the corridor.
There seemed to be another sound mixed in with the sound of water.
Veris paused, his shoes making a much louder sound on the carpet than when he was barefoot. This brief pause was barely noticeable, masked by the sound of water.
But he felt the divination results from earlier starting to float into his mind again. He began to curse himself for spending too much time in taverns and learning all sorts of vulgar language, which was why he had translated that bizarre result in this way.
Then he quickly went downstairs, entered the study, found his seat, and found that the quill pen had already been filled with ink, and the scrolls written on the table had been tidied up and moved outside.
Work, work is the most important thing.
He encouraged himself and buried himself in writing furiously on the scroll.
After writing another sixty copies, he finally heard footsteps approaching. Soon, Sylvain appeared at the study door.
Veris glanced up instinctively. Sylvain was wearing a long robe, his hair was dry, and his handsome face had become more indifferent than it had been in his youthful days.
He raised his hand and, just as Veris had done before, closed the door.
“No, no need,” Veris suddenly said. Sylvain looked at him, his expression tightening, and said seriously, “You still have things to move, open the door.”
Actually, he felt very uncomfortable being in a nearly enclosed space with Sylvain.
Sylvain nodded and opened the door again.
He walked over, stood in his place at the desk, suddenly looked up at Veris who had lowered his head again to write on the scroll, and said softly, "You've been drinking."
The pen paused, and Veris hummed in agreement.
Sylvain stared at him intently. From this angle, looking down at him, one could see a faint hair whorl in the middle of the head with its curled ends.
As I sat down, the rustling sound of pen nib scratching against the pages soon filled the air.
Veris remained unfazed as time ticked by, and the scrolls beside him piled up again.
Sylvain got up, tidied up the scrolls, and carried them out.
This time, Veris looked up and stared at Sylvain's back until he disappeared through the doorway.
Something suddenly came to mind.
In his previous life, Sylvan was not human and always maintained his self-respect, but now Sylvan is a true human being.
He will provide for all of humanity's needs.
When Sylvain returned, Veris had already put down his pen and was standing by the table, rolling up the remaining scrolls. Hearing him enter, he said, "Come with me to the auction house tomorrow."
It would be better to get that thing related to Sylvain back.
“Alright, do you need me to get the guild's emblem?” Sylvain stood beside him, his tone returning to its former gentleness.
Veris put down the scroll in his hand. "I have my own. Just come with me. Ah... I'll send a message to the people in the Chamber of Commerce later."
"It's getting late, let's get some rest."
Sylvain helped roll up the scrolls, and the writing on them became visibly more frivolous, seemingly reflecting the owner's frustration.
He lowered his eyes, glanced over, and then continued moving without pausing.
There weren't many scrolls left, and they were quickly piled up neatly. Sylvain picked up the scrolls and walked out.
Veris followed behind, watching him place the scrolls on the long table in the inner hall, then walk over and cast a spatial spell.
A pale golden light shimmered, and the scroll was swallowed by the light.
Sylvain turned his head and looked at Veris, seemingly lost in thought.
Veris, on the other hand, couldn't quite bear the ambiguous look in his eyes. He touched the tip of his nose and said, "I'm going to rest first. Do you still need to tidy up?" He had looked at Sylvain's side and saw that there wasn't much to tidy up, but it was much faster than he had expected.
After all, tonight...
You seem quite busy?
The next second, Sylvain's calm voice rang out: "I want to sleep with you."
Veris paused in his act of touching his nose, thinking he was hallucinating; his pupils stopped moving.
Seeing his stiff movements, Sylvain continued, "There's only one bed upstairs."
Yes, although there are four rooms upstairs, only Veris's room has a bed.
“I’ll get you a bed.” Veris took a deep breath.
Sylvain remained silent, staring intently at him, his aura plummeting, and his eyes began to droop.
Veris's mind flashed back to what he had been thinking about in his room, and the result of the divination. He felt increasingly uneasy, but finally made up his mind and gritted his teeth, saying, "Fine, fine, bring your own pillow."
So what if they sleep together? It's not like it's never happened before. He slept with his best friend's... adopted son. What's the big deal?
Sylvain got a scolding from the god tonight and learned about reincarnation. Next, he has to deal with the revision of the magic book. He can't let the god work for him in a bad mood, can he?
Veris turned and headed for the stairs, his gaze following him relentlessly.
He was still trying to convince himself.
And looking at that face, he felt as if he had returned to many years ago, to the time when he was traveling with his best friend.
The tone of his voice and the subtle expressions made him momentarily believe that Sylvain had never left.
...It's really hard to refuse.
Sylvain watched Veris hurry upstairs until the figure disappeared from sight, then he looked away and touched his face.
Since the facts cannot be changed, then let's use any means necessary to get everything we want.
Before falling asleep, Veris sometimes reads a book for a while, anything at all, and he gets sleepy after reading for a while.
But tonight, he leaned against the headboard, the blanket covering his lower body, a travelogue open on top of the blanket. He stared at it with his eyes downcast, but his mind was elsewhere.
He slept on the right side to make room for Sylvain.
He began to seriously consider whether his sleeping posture had become too unsightly over the past few years.
Why is this bed so big? It's more than twice the size of the bed he had in the Albion attic.
Perhaps I should go to sleep first, so I can avoid an awkward situation with Sylvain later.
...But it seemed that only he was embarrassed; Sylvain showed no sign of discomfort at all.
Sylvain has been sleeping alone for so many years, why does he insist on squeezing in with him tonight?
Veris closed the travelogue, tossed it aside, lay down expressionlessly, and pulled the covers up.
He had just closed his eyes when he heard footsteps. Then the door opened and closed. Sylvain's footsteps were heavier as he stopped by the bed.
A rustling sound arose, then the blanket was pulled back, and a body hotter than his moved closer.
Veris remembered something terrible.
He should give Sylvain another blanket.
“You should remove your magic.” Sylvain’s voice sounded beside his head, so close that it felt as if his warm breath was blowing against Veris’s face.
He opened his eyes, his face serious. He first extinguished the flames above his head, then said with a strong but weak tone, "You better sleep properly, or I'll leave you to sleep on the ground."
"Would Father be willing to do that?"
“Now you’re willing to give it up.” Veris turned over, his back to Sylvain, but he could still feel the other man staring at him.
When they first brought Sylvain back, there was only one bed in the attic, which was barely big enough for two people. Veris told Sylvain to go to sleep while he sat downstairs and wrote notes all night.
Humans, especially the weak, certainly cannot sleep on the floor; getting sick is very uncomfortable.
At that moment, Veris held Sylvain's frail hand, feeling extremely distressed.
However, now, Veris silently shrank back, the body beside him still radiating heat, and he doubted that Sylvain would be alright even if he were thrown to sleep on the street.
Although this person is a mage, his physique is in no way inferior to that of a warrior. He saw the results of last year's Royal Capital Academy assessment. He single-handedly defeated everyone from the Warrior Academy and knocked them off the stage. The old man from the Warrior Academy even shamelessly asked him if he could let Sylvain study at the Royal Capital Academy.
Taking courses in two colleges is certainly no problem.
Veris, of course, refused.
A jumble of chaotic memories flooded in, and Veris soon fell into a deep sleep.
He was a light sleeper because someone was sleeping next to him.
In the middle of the night, Veris opened his eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed away Sylvain, who was clinging to him.
Sylvain kept his eyes closed, showing no sign of waking up.
He seemed to like to hug something while sleeping. Veris, who had pushed Sylvain away for who knows how many times, stared at the ceiling in despair. After a few seconds, he finally accepted reality.
Because he remembered that Sylvain used to need to be held to fall asleep.
After going to the small room on the top floor, he had no idea what happened next.
Oh well, I'll just treat it as reliving the life I had a few years ago.
Veris closed his eyes, his entire waist and abdomen were being encircled. He was indeed tired after all this, mainly mentally exhausted.
This time he slept much more soundly than in the first half of the night.
He had a fragmented dream after a long time. In the dream, Sylvain wrapped him tightly in his true form. He resignedly tore off the indescribable things on his body little by little, only to have them covered by something new.
The Seven Gods are truly reviving; even he can dream of Sylvain.
He thought optimistically.
The next day, Veris woke up late again, once again by a strange aura.
He opened his eyes and saw Sylvain standing next to another table in the room, who immediately looked at him.
Then he said, "I've gotten back what you wanted."
So fast?
Veris was bewildered and instinctively wanted to ask Sylvain how he knew which item it was.
But Sylvain added, "That ninth-tier mage wants to see you."
This sentence is much colder in tone.
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Author's Note: A certain deity used the term "sexually aroused xx" as a curse word.
Veris was stunned by the result.
Sylvain's strategy shift has everything (not really).
There's a whole large storyline (maybe two) later on where Sylvain barely appears, so their screen time is brought forward to the Mercury arc; otherwise, they'd really become just background characters.
【The Mysterious History of Seven 3.4】
Veris left home at the age of fifteen and soon found Sylvain by the roadside, whom he considered a gift from heaven.
After waking Sylvain, they told him firmly that they were going to travel together.
Sylvain (dull): ...Okay.
Veris encountered a foolish boy who claimed to be a hero who would save the continent, named Lortheran.
He and his friend joined the idiot squad.
And in this, they play a therapeutic role.
Additional information: When needed, they can also serve as mages, warriors, alchemists, etc.
Sylvain's role in the team is that of a mage.
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