POV Grand Master
A moment later, the curtain was pushed aside, and a plump smiling face peered into the office. Realizing that Edward was alone, the holy father tossed the fabric aside and glided into the room.
Tall and corpulent, Simeon appeared as the embodiment of kindness and meekness. Dressed in a simple chlamys, belted with a rope, he resembled a village priest who secretly liked to pinch the girls, food, and wine. But appearances can be deceiving.
Edward had met Simeon many years ago, when he was just a simple knight. The priest had appealed to him – open and attentive, he won Edward's trust and became his spiritual guide and friend.
Later, the Master discovered other qualities in him – a sharp mind, fearlessness, and the ability to communicate with anyone. And the holy power where words failed. Simeon made decisions quickly, acted calmly and thoughtfully, repeatedly saving Edward in difficult situations. Together, they went through fire and water, fighting Mamono wherever they were sent. Though the holy father was older than the Master, he had maintained excellent form, except for his voluminous belly. And form was necessary!
When Edward became the Grand Master, he, by unanimous consent, introduced Simeon into the Circle, appointing him head of intelligence. The warrior monk did not disappoint his expectations. Taking the place of priest in the slums, Simeon spread spy networks everywhere, secretly monitoring the knights and the Inquisition.
He often uncovered conspiracies that made the Master marvel at how Simeon managed to dig up so much information. He also knew everything about Mamono – or almost everything. Simeon was a valuable ally, a true believer, and a good friend. The only friend.
"Simeon," Edward greeted him, briefly adding, "Speak."
The priest tilted his head slightly. "Hello, Edward."
"What have you brought? News? Good or bad?"
"Good," Simeon said cheerfully, sitting down across from him. "I wanted to bring you some joy myself. And solve a couple of issues along the way."
Edward twirled a closed letter in his hands, sealed with the de Lesly family seal, and set it aside. A noble family – ancient, rich, powerful. And yet, it could wait. The holy father had come personally and without invitation, so it meant something truly important. Urgent.
"They want to buy themselves out of service," Simeon said with a grin, poking the letter with his thick finger. "Nearby, peasants were drafted into the militia – no one to plow and sow. And grain is valuable these days," the priest whispered conspiratorially, "And it will rise in price. If you agree, de Lesly will buy up the surrounding lands in a couple of years and grow even stronger. But if you refuse – Stefan is a favorite at court, and might bite you from behind. A good move is needed here, well thought out."
"I'll think about it," Edward was not surprised that Simeon knew the contents of the letter. "So, what's the news?"
"Good," the priest replied, beaming. "The Whisper didn't fall into the monsters' hands."
"Why are you so sure?" Edward almost flared up, but quickly suppressed the unworthy emotions. "It's been…"
"Eight years," Simeon helpfully interjected. "Eight years, three months, and five days. Do you remember that failure? Do you remember how we waited for the prophecy to come true?"
Edward did remember. Back then, he couldn't find peace, neither day nor night, and the recent fall of Leskatia felt like the beginning of the end. But they had stood firm. The monsters couldn't advance beyond the borders of the kingdom. Thanks to strict measures and desperate courage, the Mamono offensive had faltered.
"The prophecy didn't come true," the Grand Master murmured. "The heavens didn't fall. And that battle didn't become the last in history."
The holy father leaned back, and the sturdy chair creaked under his heavy body.
"True. Either the monsters didn't realize what they got, though they were surely told, or they couldn't use it. But that's unlikely."
At that moment, Simeon resembled a fat cat that had gotten into the cream.
"And I think – they got nothing at all!" he squeaked good-naturedly.
"Did you find something out?"
"Yes," Simeon said happily. "We sent seven. Olivia managed to make it through unharmed," the priest began counting on his fingers. "Thomas, Walter, Hugo, Norman were captured by Mamono. Maria received a wound from demonic silver. She made it to the border, but unfortunately, the changes became irreversible. We saved her soul with fire. The last one was Alexandra Corbett. In the dungeon, she refused orders and deserted, disappearing without a trace."
Edward darkened. His friend had started from afar, unwilling to get to the point. Too far, as if an old fox, he circled around, probing and evaluating his reaction. He would ask for much, oh so much! Afraid that I would refuse. No, my friend. For the Whisper, I would pay any price. And my memory is just fine, thank the Goddess!
Of course, the Master knew all the details of the matter. Eight years ago, he kept it under his personal control and selected the participants for the dangerous mission himself. The best knights of the Order, led by a hero, had ventured deep into the lands of the monsters.
And perished – dishonorably, foolishly, uselessly. The loss had been quite painful. After that, in the Circle, the Junior Masters openly protested his decision: "Why?! Wasted it, and for what? What was the team doing in the foothills of the Gray Mountains?!"
Back then, Edward had stayed silent, patiently and submissively bearing their reproaches. He knew he couldn't reveal the truth told to him by the angels. The truth about the iron demon who had caused a massacre among the contenders for the Monster Lord's throne.
The truth about the sly succubus who had taken the vacant place almost without a fight. About the demon whose body had been buried deep underground. Along with its belongings, with great honors and bloody sacrifices.
The monsters of the time – not loose women, but real ones! Even they had been desperately afraid because, before dying, the wounded demon had laughed, shouting a prophecy about a monster who would bring down the heavens and bring the world to its knees, using his weapon in the final battle of history. The Whisper.
Edward lowered his head humbly and remained silent. The truth gave him strength. But the time for it had not yet come. Only to Simeon, his friend and spiritual guide, had the Grand Master confided. And he did not regret it, neither then nor now.
"The Goddess does not like verbosity," Edward finally said. "Speak plainly, my friend."
"I am!" Simeon exclaimed, disappointed. "The backstory is important. The solution to the Whisper is found in it! In light of the new facts…"
"The Whisper disappeared. Olivia said they were ahead of them. The grave was opened."
"That's right!" the priest said with emphasis. "It was recently opened. And it wasn't Mamono who did it. The team encountered Kunoichi and demonesses on the way back. The fact that the Whisper didn't resurface in eight years…"
"Then who?"
"Alexandra," Simeon straightened up and leaned forward sharply. In an instant, his face took on a predatory expression, shedding the mask of slowness and kindness. The priest resembled a blade drawn from its sheath, ready to strike and punish in the name of the Supreme. The blade – a sharp mind, the hilt – faith, the guard – an iron will. Simeon was a weapon, and a deadly one, striking straight to the heart of the enemy – one moment, and they fall, not even realizing where the blow came from.
"She survived and remained human," the priest said harshly. "The Whisper must be with her. No one else."
Edward frowned and drummed his fingers on the table.
"Is that possible?" the Grand Master asked.
Simeon squinted, giving him a penetrating look.
"Quite possible. Think for yourself." The team operated in the territory of the demon kingdom. What other options are there? Mamono found the grave before our warriors? Then why didn't they use the Whisper? Many monsters have an instinctive understanding of magic.
They would have quickly figured out what was what. Knights of some king, acting secretly from us? Without special training or reinforced wards? No human would have made it that far. And we don't share these things, you know. Not Mamono, not other warriors. Only a member of the team could have done it. They were all in plain sight. Except for Alexandra Corbett."
Edward thought for a moment, his gaze unfocused, on the monk. Simeon remained silent, tense, not interrupting his contemplation.
"Where was she found?" Edward asked after a long pause.
"Far away," the priest smiled. He relaxed and slumped, as though losing his spine. The blade vanished into the scabbard of false kindness and goodness. "In Al-Gord. Alexandra was recognized by one of her former friends. From the entourage of the envoys to the pirate overlords."
"And she wasn't detained?" The Master raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"They had a different task," Simeon said softly. "On the contrary!"
"Good thing they didn't try to detain her! Corbett would have chopped them into cabbage. And gone back into hiding. They didn't train her for all those years in the Gray Corps for nothing... No, everything has worked out as it should. Actually, that's what I came to discuss. Lord Grand Master!" The priest suddenly said with official solemnity. "For the capture of the dangerous criminal, traitor, and deserter, I request permission to use the Knights of the Inquisition. Additionally, due to the urgency – to open a portal to Al-Gord. And with your permission – to lead the squad."
Simeon easily rose to his feet and bowed ceremoniously, offering Edward a parchment extracted from his robe.
"We won't inform the Shivan Emirate," Edward took the offered parchment. "Formally, Al-Gord is within their territory."
"No," Simeon replied briefly, not straightening up or raising his eyes. "We don't need competitors."
"It won't be easy without you, my friend," the Grand Master said with a touch of warmth. "But you're right. Junior Master Simeon," Edward said, enunciating the words clearly. "As the deputy of the Supreme Goddess on earth, and head of the Holy Order, I have considered your request. It was weighed, measured, and approved. I authorize you to use the Knights of the Inquisition and lead them on this campaign."
He took the parchment and signed it without looking.
"Gather the mages. Open the portal. Punish the traitor and retrieve the Whisper. It's up to you whether the dark prophecy comes true. I entrust the fate of the Order to your hands. The fate of all humanity. So don't fail the Order, the Goddess, and mankind!"
Simeon straightened. Steel flashed in his eyes.
"Let it be so, Master. I will return the Whisper or die! Time is precious, we cannot lose a minute. Allow me to begin the mission immediately!"
"Go," the Grand Master said quietly. "And may the Goddess light your way."
Simeon bowed again and, with a quick, light step that didn't match his bulk, headed toward the curtain.
"Remember, the prophecy must not come true," Edward called after him.
Halfway through pulling the curtain aside, Simeon stopped.
"It will not come true," the monk promised grimly. "It will not, my friend."