“Ah, that’s a problem,” Van Dijk said, his voice low and thoughtful. He leaned back in his chair, his crimson eyes narrowing as he processed the implications of the bishop’s revelation.
The bishop perked up, his expression sharpening with interest. “You know something?” he asked, his tone eager.
Van Dijk nodded, his expression grim. “Yes, and it’s not good. Azathoth is one of the older ones. He’s mainly harmless and only affects those who dream. He had many followers back then—I’m sure you can find a couple of books in our private library at the academy to understand more about him. But there’s a small problem when associating with him.”
The bishop’s eyes narrowed, his curiosity piqued. “What is it?” he asked, his tone sharp.
Van Dijk leaned forward, his expression serious. “He’s rather… inflexible. His Saint can easily be your strongest ally or your worst nightmare. It all depends on the whims of Azathoth. He used to have many followers back in the Dark Ages, but he disappeared from this world after the Great War. He fuels his followers with great divinity, but unlike other divinities, the fewer followers he has, the stronger each one becomes. So, if this boy—your saint—is the only one currently following him, that’s basically a demi-god walking on land.”
Ludwig frowned, his confusion evident. “Isn’t that a good thing for them?” he asked. “To have someone that strong walking their ranks?”
Van Dijk shook his head, his expression grim. “That’s the thing, Ludwig. Azathoth’s followers are not controllable. If the Holy Order tries to force them to do anything that goes against Azathoth’s teachings, he can simply make his follower go rogue. Basically,” Van Dijk said, his tone heavy, “don’t ever piss the boy off. None of you can handle the aftermath.”
Ludwig smirked, his tone dry. “A ticking time bomb you guys chose.”
The paladin, Juaquin, stepped forward, his expression filled with disdain. “We can handle a little boy,” he said, his voice sharp and dismissive.
Van Dijk snorted, his amusement evident. “Sure you can. But not one that has the Authority of an Eldritch god.” He leaned back in his chair, his expression calm but laced with skepticism. “Regardless, this is probably the main reason for your visit, I’d assume?”
The bishop nodded, his expression serious. “Indeed,” he said, standing up from his seat. “It was a quick meeting, but we got what we needed. We’ll be borrowing books related to Azathoth from the library. As for the matters of Rima,” he said, turning to Ludwig, “we can consider them handled. But there is one thing that’s been bugging me.”
The bishop’s gaze sharpened as he turned to Ludwig. “Did you happen to meet an elf back at Rima?”
Ludwig was surprised but didn’t let it show. “An elf? No,” he said, shaking his head.
The bishop’s smile tightened, but he nodded. “I see,” he said, his tone calm but laced with a subtle edge. He turned to leave, the paladin following closely behind.
Soon, they used their portal to leave, and the room fell silent.
“That was intense,” Ludwig said, breaking the silence.
Van Dijk turned to him, his expression calm but probing. “Why did you lie?” he asked, his tone sharp.
“About what? I’m pretty sure all I told was the truth,” Ludwig said, his tone casual but defensive.
Van Dijk’s eyes narrowed. “I’m talking about the elf. All of us realized you lied there, Ludwig.”
Ludwig shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Is that a problem?”
“Not if you want it to be,” Van Dijk said, his tone calm but laced with a subtle edge. “Regardless, elves are a very touchy subject. Did you happen to meet one?”
Ludwig hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yes. She was the current high elven princess. They had business there.”
Van Dijk’s eyebrows shot up, his curiosity piqued. “Interesting. Not just a normal elf, but a princess at that. What was the purpose of their visit to Rima?”
Ludwig shrugged, his tone casual. “They wanted to recover the tree. It was apparently part of their World Tree that was stolen and corrupted. I guess the Gluttonous Death told the Sheikh how to corrupt it and use it as a medium to attain that fake immortality of his. Or that was what she said”
“You should have told me that,” Van Dijk said, a bit disappointed.
“Sorry master, honestly, it completely skipped my mind with all the stuff we’ve been through…” Ludwig replied apologetically.
Van Dijk nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Regardless, we still have important matters to tend to now,” he said, his tone more amused.
“The books? I can’t wait to open them,” Ludwig said, eagerly.
“Indeed,” Van Dijk said, standing up. “Follow me. We have a lot of studying to do.”
He opened the door to his office, and it immediately led to the hidden laboratory inside the tower. Van Dijk walked in first, his expression calm but focused.
Inside the laboratory, two people were working on a corpse, their movements precise but hurried.
“Sebas, Evan, get me my coat and my tools,” Van Dijk said, his voice sharp and commanding.
The two turned to see the Tower Master, their expressions a mix of surprise and anxiety. “Yes, Master,” they said in unison.
Van Dijk’s expression darkened. “Don’t call me that. I am no master to failures,” he said, his said dismissively.
“Yes, Tower Master,” Evan replied, his voice trembling slightly as he hurried away. Sebas shot a disgusted look at Ludwig before following Evan.
Ludwig sighed, his tone dry. “Man, who shat in their breakfast?”
Van Dijk’s expression remained cold. “The mundane are always jealous of the talented. This is my way of showing them the way. They either grit through the shame of having someone younger than them take the spotlight to improve themselves out of spite, or they can leave. For that’s all they’ll ever amount to. Necromancers, they call themselves, when they can’t even perform a simple act of necromancy. Disgusting.”
He spat the last word as he moved to the table they were working on. His eyes narrowed as he examined the corpse, his expression thoughtful.
“What do you think they were doing?” Van Dijk asked, turning to Ludwig.
Ludwig frowned, his mind racing. A test?