Jeanne's understanding of the gods of Terra was indeed limited to the wicked Kashchey. However, she recalled that the High Priest in Gavial's hometown was, like The Emperor, a shard of a deity in bird form. It seemed the gods of this continent had all undergone some strange catastrophe; many were trapped in a state resembling deep sleep, yet a sleep so profound it was indistinguishable from death.
According to The Emperor, however, these near-dead gods only needed the right opportunity to stage a comeback. Furthermore, their minds seemed warped to varying degrees.
"Can just a bit of Holy Water really give you the power to rival your original body? The gap between you two must be quite large, right?"
Jeanne looked at the penguin before her. Aside from his immortality, he didn't seem to possess any special traits. He appeared to be nothing more than a highly intelligent, unkillable penguin. It was possible he simply chose not to show his abilities, preferring to live a normal life in Lungmen, but Jeanne felt he truly lacked combat power.
"The gap is huge. Besides, all my abilities are geared toward staying alive; I'm not good at fighting. Regardless, my enemies can't outlive me, and they certainly can't kill me. I'm perfectly fine with watching them grow old and die while I dance on their graves!"
As he spoke, The Emperor hummed a little tune, seemingly reminiscing. Jeanne suspected he had done this more than a few times—perhaps his rapping skills were forged in such macabre settings.
"Then your original body will definitely do everything possible to reclaim your power. Even a god cannot refuse the temptation of immortality."
Looking at the penguin, Jeanne understood why his power was so alluring. If she were that deity, she too would find a way to take back this shard. The Emperor nodded in solemn agreement; he had been harassed by his main body more than once. If not for his own cleverness, he would have been in grave danger long ago.
"But what did you mean by your main body falling into madness? Can a god like yours actually go insane?"
In Jeanne's experience, gods were beings with the means to avoid aging and death. While not all were great warriors, their rationality was far superior to that of humans. What could possibly drive such a transcendent creature to madness? A hidden enemy? Or something she hadn't noticed yet?
Jeanne was naturally curious about the strange and supernatural—like someone who purposely visits haunted houses to find ghosts. Of course, since she possessed the power to handle such things, she feared little. Because divine power protected her body at all times, she subconsciously ignored certain dangers, like how she dared to touch Originium with her bare hands. If Talulah saw that, she'd likely be scared to death by Jeanne's recklessness.
"I don't know if this feeling is right, but ever since that fellow fell into its slumber, I've felt it becoming increasingly chaotic and frenzied. Like a beast that can no longer control itself."
The Emperor patiently explained his sensations, not pressing Jeanne for an answer to his request. He had plenty of patience; although he said his main body was waking up, that was relative. In human terms, it probably still had at least a century of sleep left. While the trade with Jeanne would solve his problem, Holy Water wasn't his only means of resistance.
"As for what caused it, I'm not sure. But I suspect it has something to do with Originium. The properties displayed by that mineral are truly bizarre."
Even the memory of his main body's condition made The Emperor shiver. He didn't want to become a twisted monster, let alone be near one. Seeing this, Jeanne decided to help the penguin who had been supportive since her arrival in Lungmen. She didn't know how he found out she could produce Holy Water, but for a penguin with eyes and ears everywhere, such intel was probably attainable—especially with two Angels on his payroll, one of whom held many of Laterano's secrets.
The Emperor watched as Jeanne took the empty bottle and filled it with plain water. Then, she closed her eyes and began to pray. The water in the bottle began to change. The Emperor stared, unblinking and silent, at the miraculous sight.
In his small eyes was the reflection of a saint praying to her God. If this scene were painted, it would become a sacred heirloom for a grand cathedral. There was no golden light or heavenly choir, but The Emperor felt the very atmosphere of the room shift.
He looked at the bottle, and something deep within his soul looked back. For reasons unknown, The Emperor's main body felt a primal fear of this water—the fear of a prey seeing its natural predator. The Emperor felt it too, like a swimmer surrounded by a pod of orcas. Whether they intended to play or eat, the outcome wouldn't be good.
His main body had been stubbornly clinging to him, unwilling to give up his power. It had been trying to overcome its deep-seated fear, cheering itself on from the depths of its consciousness. But that courage didn't last. As Jeanne's prayer ended, the entity reacted to the Holy Water like a vampire seeing the sun, fleeing for its life.
Even The Emperor hadn't expected the effect to be this potent. He thought it would just act as a shield; he never expected it to forcibly sever the link. This was a massive win—once the connection was broken, reconnecting wouldn't be easy. He was safe for at least several decades.
"Here is the high-purity Holy Water you wanted. Please don't tell anyone! I promised to only engage in small private trades... though I don't think this is that much."
Jeanne complained slightly about the Sankta's definition of "small amounts." According to the Pope, his annual salary included a "massive" portion of high-purity Holy Water—a whopping 50ml! That was the peak of Laterano's luxury. People used to scheme and exhaust themselves just to become Pope for that perk.
And here was 200ml—the equivalent of four years of a Pope's salary. It was a fortune beyond calculation. Jeanne felt like someone who had walked into a world with hyper-deflation holding 100,000 dollars; things she didn't care about were suddenly worth the world.
"..."
The Emperor was lost in a daze. Was Laterano's Holy Water really this easy to make? Then why couldn't he get his hands on any for all those years? It wasn't that he doubted Jeanne, but the casual way she produced such a treasure was a total immersion-breaker! He had expected some grand ritual or a descent of the divine.
No wonder she's seen as the Saint of Laterano, he thought. He carefully tucked the bottle away, terrified of spilling even a drop.
"Well then, Miss Jeanne, in return for this massive favor, what do you need me to do for you?"
Before Jeanne could even ask, The Emperor took the initiative. He was prepared to pay any price—even his entire record label.
"Since you mentioned it, I do have a favor... I need to purchase a large amount of supplies. I need you to help with the procurement and transport them to their destination."
Jeanne thought of the second reason she had come to Lungmen. That wealthy Emperor still owed her a mountain of money, and it was time to spend it!