Chapter 21
The third floor hadn't been tidied up yet. As Veris's storage room, things were piled up haphazardly, boxes were placed crookedly on the floor, and some lids were missing.
Various discarded musical instruments, strange tips from listeners, a staff weapon created by Veris on a whim, an alchemist's mortar and pestle, apothecaries' tools for processing herbs, and an astrologer's essential horoscope...
Veris sometimes wonders where all this stuff was crammed in when Sylvain lived here.
However, the house was much tidier back then. Sylvain was either practicing magic or tidying up, piling up books and scrolls neatly.
Just one month after Sylvain left, Veris successfully restored the attic to its original state as it had been ten years ago.
Sunlight streamed through the closed windows, making the storage room not dark, though some corners were completely dark.
Veris rummaged around in the corner for ages, making the already messy place even messier, before finally finding what he wanted.
—It was the backpack he carried when he was a homeless man!
It's an old thing from decades ago. Veris picked it up and shook it, and felt that it was still very sturdy. As expected of the product of the dwarven blacksmith master, it can still be carried for another hundred years!
When a bard sets out, he usually carries a backpack, referring to a poet traveling far away.
The backpack contained paper, pens, and ink, so that the poet could record the local customs, legends, and other information along the way. This was one of the most important things. The backpack was made of lightweight wood, so it wasn't too heavy to carry.
Southern China is humid, especially during autumn and summer when there are many days of continuous rain. Paper and pens are expensive, so it is important to preserve them properly.
In addition, there are musical instruments.
Poets who often wander are generally not accustomed to playing large instruments like the accordion.
Small hand drums and flutes are obviously more convenient to carry, but some instruments are made of materials that can be damaged by water, so there is naturally a place for instruments in the backpack.
If you also need to bring some miscellaneous books and travelogues, you must take good care of them.
This left very little room in the already small suitcase. I stuffed in some daily necessities and some travel money.
As for food and water, they would take care of everything on the way.
The above are the contents of an ordinary bard's satchel.
Veris's trunk was anything but ordinary; he stuffed it with an entire accordion, followed by a harp, a flute, a hand drum, a lyre, a lute... in short, he wanted to cram in every musical instrument stored in the storeroom.
The backpack seemed like a bottomless pit, holding down one musical instrument after another.
"Spatial magic is still quite useful," Veris muttered, stuffing several more magic wands into the box. He didn't know if they would come in handy, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
On the way, they met a talented magician, and each of them received one.
Once you receive his staff, you'll have to work for the church.
When Sylvain went up to the third floor, he saw that the storage room had been partially emptied, and Veris was squatting with his back to him, still stuffing things into it.
The Holy Son gasped, "Can you really memorize all of this?"
Veris waved his hand with his back to him: "I used to carry all this when I set off. Don't worry, these are all good stuff." He's already quite adept at using each instrument.
Sylvain frowned as he noticed the staff was also missing from the box in the corner: "Why did you bring the staff with you?"
For Veris, there was no need for a staff as a medium for casting spells. By combining instant magic and reconstruction magic, Veris could flatten an entire mountain range by the time the opposing mage took out his staff and began chanting.
“Send any promising kids you meet out there, and then entice them into the church.” Veris turned his head, his face serious. “Kids these days are too rebellious. There aren’t any really bad people in the church, so why do they have to go against the grain?”
Sylvain's eyes flickered: "You mean the matter of Mercury City?"
Veris nodded. He had almost finished packing his things, so he simply closed his suitcase, stood up, and stretched.
His tone became languid: "He has a good understanding of magic, but he's gone down the wrong path... Saying it like that makes it sound like I'm definitely right, hahaha, but I wouldn't have made that kind of basic mistake when I was five." Five was the age when he began his magical enlightenment.
“Sylvan, would you like to go and take a look? The church shouldn’t be too busy right now.” He looked at Sylvan, who was standing at the door blocking his way.
However, Sylvain merely pursed his lips, and after a moment, replied, "The academy is busy..."
“How come I didn’t know?” Veris took a few steps forward, squinting at Sylvain.
Sylvan wasn't someone he picked up as a baby. When he met Sylvan, the boy was already around ten years old and very wary, which troubled Veris for a long time.
However, after all the hardships, he also went through a long period of Sylvain being clingy.
Sylvan is acting strangely right now. Veris can tell at a glance that the man is odd, but he doesn't know what Sylvan is struggling with. If it were a magical problem, Sylvan wouldn't be acting like this.
Veris had thought about this problem, but the results of the investigation still left him clueless.
Neither the Academy nor the Papacy gave Sylvain a hard time.
He stared intently at Sylvain, his green eyes gleaming with an eerie light. Once a symbol of misfortune, they were now praised as the color of life.
“Are you sad, Sylvain?” Veris asked.
Long-lived beings often have difficulty perceiving the emotions of those around them, and Veris rarely cares about the emotions of others. Perhaps it's because he's lived for too long that his emotions have become somewhat dulled. He can quickly discern from a person's expression whether they are benevolent or hostile, but if asked to discern whether someone harbors affection or pain, Veris has almost never done such a thankless task.
Paying too much attention to other people's joys and sorrows can affect yourself.
Remembering someone for too long will only cause sadness.
But Sylvain is different—
Veris was willing to make an exception for him.
The sun was shining brightly today, and its warm rays fell on Veris, enveloping him in a soft glow. His face, framed by his black, tousled hair, was pale with a familiar pallor. His face was always bloodless, as if he lived in a place where no light shone.
His appearance wasn't exceptionally handsome, but his aura was captivating, like a witch's potion. Time had left almost no trace on him, but it had instilled in him a cautious and discreet nature.
He is like the sun and moon hanging in the sky, whether shining on all living beings or shining on the earth alone, he always carries a faint sense of detachment.
Sylvain felt as if his throat was being squeezed. In an instant, countless images flashed through his mind: those nights when he questioned his feelings, which eventually turned into the nonchalant act he suppressed at dawn.
This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
He stared intently at the man before him, his nominal godfather. No one on the entire continent could rival the brilliance of Veris. Every inch of the continent of Icarus had been sung about the Pope. At this moment, the Pope, revered by countless people, was dressed simply, with a handsome face, and listened intently to his next words.
Have you ever loved someone?
Love and justice are the core tenets of the Orlando Church.
When he asked that question, Sylvain had already prepared countless reasons for himself. He watched as Veris's expression shifted from stunned to bewildered, then he frowned, and his heart skipped a beat.
How would he respond? Would he reprimand him for overstepping his bounds, or would he simply offer a few perfunctory words?
Veris's life was too long, and the names of the people he mentioned were all figures who had left a deep mark on his past.
"The person I love..." Veris thought for a moment before saying, "As the Pope, I naturally love all the people who believe in the Orlando Church. But as Veris, to be honest, I have almost completely forgotten my past memories."
“Ah, no, to be precise, I don’t remember many people. I only remember those who are alive.” Realizing the mistake in his words, Veris immediately corrected himself. He looked seriously at Sylvan, whose expression was complicated. Although he didn’t know why Sylvan would ask him this question, he was still happy to answer the question that had troubled Sylvan for so long.
He quickly recalled some past events and a smile appeared on his face: "If I had to say, I loved my deceased best friend."
Veris said sincerely, "Even now, I'm still happy to have known him."
Sylvain's face was pale, but soon he put on the same gentle smile he always showed to his followers: "He must have been a very good person. You still remember him after all this time."
The person who could become Veris's close friend must have been from many years ago... Thank goodness, thank goodness, he was a dead man.
Sylvain wore a slightly cold smile, his fingertips gently stroking the sleeves hanging at his sides.
Veris gave him a strange look, but said nothing, only nodding: "He's really good to me."
When he heard that he had been taken to the Sky Palace, Sylvain grabbed a weapon and attacked the Sky Palace without saying a word—that's right, all by himself.
As a close friend, Sylvain is truly exceptional.
For Veris, the definition of love was broad. If someone was someone he still thought of frequently after hundreds of years, that was the person he loved. This was what the god of love taught him.
He didn't realize that the "love" Sylvain was asking about now was not the same as the "love" he had in mind.
However, Sylvain's cold departure left Veris puzzled, as it seemed his answer had not satisfied Sylvain.
“But if there’s no memory of it, there’s no point in talking about those things,” Veris muttered.
Hopefully Yannis will work hard and awaken the seven gods soon; perhaps Sylvain can regain his memories.
A note from the author:
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Veris: My brother is incredibly kind-hearted. (Nods vigorously)
Sylvain: It's better for those "white moonlight" types to be dead. (sneer)
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