Chapter 115 – The Holy Chapter
"On the sixth day after the Holy Son's rebirth, the faithful beheld the radiant light of the Archangel's descent at dawn…"
The ancient parchment spoke of an angel—
the Angel of Wisdom—who once descended to the mortal realm,
performed miracles before mankind,
and inscribed the true meaning of the Lord's will with his own hand.
Before he ascended, the angel sealed fragments of his divine power into three pieces of parchment, known collectively as the Holy Chapters (Sanctus Codex).
When the faithful of the Church gathered all three Holy Chapters and conducted the sacred Ritual of Descent with unwavering devotion,
it was said the angel would answer their call—and descend once more to bless them with his power.
Gideon stared at the parchment, dumbfounded.
He scanned the list of items required to perform the ritual.
"Ignite the sacred flame with a branch from the olive tree.
Prepare ten crucifixes of a hundred-year grade.
Ten vials of Holy Water, aged a century.
Ten relics of…"
The more he read, the more incredulous he became.
"Good lord… everything starts at a hundred years?!"
The tone of the text was almost casual—
as if obtaining century-old relics were as simple as fetching a cup of water.
Was the Church always this wealthy back then?
Even now, Gideon could barely produce Holy Water of twenty years' quality.
Reaching a century would take him years of focused refinement.
Still, the parchment didn't just contain materials—it also described a detailed ritual procedure.
Unfortunately, only part of the process was recorded on this fragment.
The rest would be revealed only when all three Holy Chapters were united.
Gideon narrowed his eyes.
If what was written here was real…
then this wasn't just a record.
It was a ritual for summoning an angel.
And this parchment—
was one of the original Holy Chapters.
Even now, he could feel the faint pulse of ancient sanctity emanating from it,
a purity of holy power far surpassing even his finest twenty-year Holy Water.
"If this was truly written by an angel…"
he murmured, realization dawning.
"Then this isn't just a relic—it's a Holy Artifact."
---
A thousand years ago, after the War of the Holy Lands,
the Church had scattered across the world in search of divine artifacts—relics of Heaven's touch.
Some dated back to the founding of the Church itself.
Recovering one wasn't merely a discovery—it was a revelation.
Those who did were rewarded directly by the Vatican,
often elevated instantly to the rank of Archbishop.
But for Gideon, such a title meant little.
The artifact's worth far surpassed any mortal rank.
And this… this might very well be the handwriting of an angel.
That thought alone made him clutch the parchment with new reverence.
He would have to guard it carefully.
At the same time, he resolved to seek out the remaining two Holy Chapters.
"Once I can produce century-grade Holy Water," he muttered with a grin,
"I'll finally be able to… ahem, invite an angel to come lend a hand—
and wipe out every last demon and evil spirit."
The image of commanding a divine being like a holy general clearly delighted him.
Tucking the parchment away, a faint, glowing interface appeared before his eyes—
a system of sorts, showing his divine progress.
---
[Psychological Counseling]
Current Rank: Level 1 (120 / 1000)
[Holy Water Purification]
Current Rank: Level 2 (32 / 5000)
[Holy Water Blessing]
Current Rank: Level 1 (562 / 1000)
[Scripture Reading]
Current Rank: Level 1 (89 / 1000)
[Ignatian Exercises]
Current Rank: Level 1 (5 / 1000)
[Active Ability: Holy Bone]
When anointing yourself with Holy Oil, its divine essence permanently transforms your flesh and bone.
---
Though many demons in the Plague Zone had fled at the mere sight of him,
his Psychological Counseling skill had still progressed significantly.
However, now that the creatures were on high alert, Gideon decided to rest for a few months before returning to Saint Fréyan.
In the meantime, he planned to take on smaller commissions elsewhere.
His foundational ability, Ignatian Exercises, had also advanced to Level 1.
He had already tested his new power, Holy Bone.
Under the influence of anointing oil, his very body was beginning to transmute into a vessel of sanctity—
his flesh and bone slowly adapting to hold divine power.
The process was slow—perhaps one inch of bone for every dozen vials of Holy Oil—
but one day, even a single drop of his blood might carry enough sacred energy to banish evil outright.
---
A few days later, Gideon bid farewell to Sadie and set out for the Western District Church.
The partnership with the Allard family had been finalized.
They provided resources and protection; he shared his refining technique—
and received a handsome payment in return.
With that money, Gideon planned to open his own Holy Relic shop,
right beside the Exorcism Academy in the western quarter.
The students there had a constant need for sacred implements,
and the surrounding area was already home to numerous Church-run businesses.
It was, in every sense, the perfect place for a priest with entrepreneurial aspirations.
From Father Huang Ren, Gideon learned that the Church had recently passed a new decree —
a policy born out of necessity.
Due to the increasing frequency of demonic manifestations across the continent,
the Vatican had authorized all qualified clergy capable of crafting sacred artifacts
to sell their creations directly to the public.
This reform served two purposes.
First, it would rapidly increase the number of holy implements in circulation,
offsetting the heavy losses incurred during exorcisms and containment operations.
Second, it would allow even common believers to possess means of protection—
no longer would sacred tools be reserved solely for the elite and the ordained.
However, despite the decree's noble intent, most shops offered only the simplest of artifacts.
Some specialized solely in crucifixes.
Others sold nothing but protective charms.
It wasn't surprising—
crafting a true holy relic demanded both divine energy and focus.
Every item required the inscription of scripture and personal prayer,
a process that drained the maker's spiritual power and mental strength.
To master even a single type of relic was often a lifetime's pursuit for a priest.
Naturally, this made Holy Water the most accessible product on the market.
Its preparation was straightforward, its ingredients common,
and for many newcomers, it served as the first step into the sacred craft.
But that also meant competition was fierce.
To survive, sellers had only two choices:
either slash their prices to attract crowds,
or produce quality so exceptional that their reputation alone would sustain them.
Most chose the former—
for in this trade, high-grade relics never lacked buyers,
but their creation was a gift few possessed.
---
The Western District – Saint Dey Cathedral
This cathedral served as the heart of the western parish and housed the region's only Saint Dey Exorcism Academy.
The main street leading to the church was lined with rows of relic shops,
their signs gleaming with crosses and inscriptions of holy verses.
By dusk, the avenue would come alive—
filled with exorcists-in-training, parish priests, and adventuring hunters alike.
Here, they bartered over commissions,
discussed coursework and field assignments,
and replenished their supplies of charms, prayer beads, and consecrated oils.
For that reason, locals jokingly called this street "The Second Exorcism Academy."
---
That evening, Bente Gavin strolled down the crowded street alone.
He was a first-year student at the academy—
a boy once considered blessed by the Lord.
At fifteen, Bente had already learned to sense divine energy while reciting scripture.
His father, overjoyed, believed his son destined for high office within the Church.
Bente had believed it too.
When his acceptance letter arrived, he was ecstatic—
certain that his life would be different from that of ordinary believers.
But once he entered the academy, reality struck hard.
The so-called "prodigies" of his class had already awakened divine resonance at the age of ten.
Their light burned brighter, stronger, deeper than his own.
At first, Bente thought that was what true talent looked like—
until he learned of the district-level seminaries beyond their academy,
and of the Clerical Order in the Vatican itself—
an elite brotherhood of exorcists whose members were spoken of as living miracles.
Only then did he realize—
he was ordinary.
Yet Bente did not give up.
He studied diligently,
trained his prayers day and night,
and sought to strengthen his connection with the Light.
But lately, he had hit a wall.
The recent curriculum had begun covering Holy Oil,
a vital resource for consecration and exorcism.
Unfortunately, Holy Oil was prohibitively expensive,
and its quality varied wildly.
He had spent much of his savings on a small vial—
only to learn it would expire within a few months.
Meanwhile, the academy's "geniuses,"
funded by the Church itself,
used refined oils aged ten years or more.
It was no surprise Bente felt a burning envy.
"Tomorrow's lecture is about the absorption rate of Holy Oil,"
he muttered under his breath.
"That bastard Silas will probably show up with some century-grade oil again… basking in everyone's admiration."
Silas — the prodigy of their class.
Gifted, confident, insufferable.
Bente clenched his fists.
"There's no way a place like this sells high-grade Holy Oil.
Even if I buy something fresh, it'll never match what Silas has…"
Lost in thought, his eyes caught on a new storefront nearby.
A simple wooden sign hung above its door, the words carved in elegant script:
"House of Rest."
He tilted his head.
The shop looked freshly opened.
"Huh. Never seen this one before…"
After a moment's hesitation, Bente pushed open the door.
"Might as well take a look."