The Laughing Pestilence's Warning

After arresting all the unconscious cultists, treating our injuries, and cleaning up the mess, we all reconvened back at the nave and started sharing our findings. It took a long while for each of my team and the church’s staff to explain their part of the story to each other, but we eventually managed to reach a mutual understanding.

It turned out that Lora had snuck out because she heard someone screaming for help and followed the voice to the church, and right as she entered, someone cast a rift instance and trapped everyone inside Florathea’s realm.

Everyone who’d been dragged into her realm was immediately cursed with a corruption spell, and a few of them were unfortunately converted as Florathea’s mindless followers. However, many of the experienced magic users, like Lora and the senior pastor, managed to resist and delay the curse from taking over, and by the time Dahlian, Sloane, and I broke in and stopped Florathea, the spell never managed to take full control, so it fizzled away and left them unharmed.

Ashrenne, who accurately guessed the church might be involved with Lora’s absence, found the crevice and went in alone, dealing with all of Florathea’s followers before the three of us entered. By the time we went after them, we simply finished off the glass vessel holding a fragment of the goddess and stopped whatever schemes had been going on in there.

Still, that left us a few unanswered questions.

“Say, if people with lots of mana can resist the curses, how come I didn’t get hit by it?” asked Dahlian. “My magic got drained the moment I stepped inside the church, so I was totally defenseless.”

"Ah, our sincerest apologies," said Father Anver, bowing. "We've forgotten to take our charms down after the peace treaty since we've never had a demon visitor up until now."

"Oh, it's no worries," said Dahlian.

Sloane rubbed his chin. “Maybe you’re a unique case, since you also didn’t get hurt by the church’s defenses.”

“Man, it sucks having amnesia,” he murmured, scratching his head. “Well, whatever hidden tricks I have, I sure am glad to have them.”

“Speaking of mana, who would have enough to create that rift instance?” I asked. “And why was it so… small and simple? Normally, the rift instances I’m familiar with have lots of floors, monsters, and traps for us.”

“The design of the rift instance is usually shaped after the creator’s desire and the amount of mana they spent,” said Sloane. “Considering that destroying Florathea's fragmented vessel was what took down the realm, it confirms the goddess herself is the one behind it all, but I can't say for certain why she'd spent such a small amount of mana for it.”

“But she’s physically dead, isn’t she?” asked Dahlian. “She can’t just walk up to this church, crack open a rift instance, and kidnap everyone like that.”

The senior pastor lowered his head, his gaze dark and disturbed. “Unless… someone else did,” he muttered. “A living host with magic that she can control, I dare say.”

“Could they be one of the more powerful cultists?” asked Ashrenne.

“Very likely so.”

“But weren't they all beaten up in the rift instance?” I asked. “Did you struggle fighting with any of them, Ashrenne?”

“Nope. They were all as weak as a lamb.”

“Figured.”

“Could they be a hidden spy then?” asked Sloane. “Has anyone from your staff acted suspiciously recently, Father Anver?”

He shook his head. “I would’ve sensed it with my magic if anyone here had behaved out of line. Though speaking of that…”

He slowly turned to the silent young lady and squinted. “I should commend you for trying to help out a stranger in distress, even after being wanted by the authorities, Lora,” he said. “Next time, please listen to your friends and stay indoors.”

Ashrenne tossed her a silent, “What did I tell you?” look.

Lora drooped her shoulders and nodded. “Yes, Father Anver. I’m so sorry for the trouble, everyone…”

“To be fair, the chain of reactions did lead to us stopping Florathea’s schemes in the end,” I said. “We wouldn’t have realized a thing if you hadn’t gone.”

“Yeah! Don’t feel too bad!” said Dahlian, grinning.

Ashrenne and Sloane gave silent nods.

“Haruma… Everyone…” Her smile finally returned. “Hehe, I understand.”

“Though it pains me to interrupt this tender moment, we still have a few remaining matters to discuss,” said Father Anver. “Lora, will you please describe the voice you’ve heard?”

“Oh, right.” Her smile slowly faded away again. “About that, it was mostly muffled and distant, so I can’t really be too sure who it belonged to, but I’m sure it was a woman’s voice. That’s all I know.”

My friends all turned to face me with a familiar look.

I frowned and said, “Guys, I’m not an encyclopedia. I don’t know every single person in this city.”

“But you definitely know plenty of strong people, right?” asked Dahlian.

“Yeah, but they have no reason to support Florathea and aren't here in this city. I’m just as clueless as you guys.”

“Darn, we got no leads then,” said Ashrenne.

“No, we still have one more.” Sloane narrowed his eyes at the senior pastor. “In the rift instance, we’ve heard you uttering about The Laughing Pestilence warning you about Florathea. Can you elaborate on that?”

Father Anver widened his eyes before solemnly nodding. “That’s… correct. We’ve been receiving his letters warning us that someone of our affiliation is in cahoots with that goddess. We did sense some demonic traces in those letters, so we immediately assumed they were hoaxes and discarded them.”

“Wow, that’s… kind of rude,” Dahlian muttered.

“Right, he definitely loves to cause trouble, but he’s still a diplomat,” I said. Now that I think about it, not once did he actually commit any crimes in this city. He really did act like a law-abiding citizen, at least during the prologue.

“That demon said someone tied to the church is in cahoots with the goddess? Did he say who it is?” asked Ashrenne.

The old pastor lowered his gaze, his expression distraught and conflicted. “No, he did not. I… could never imagine anyone in their right mind would betray our people like this.”

“Time to do some deep background checks then,” said Dahlian.

“Yes, you’re right. It was through a stroke of pure luck that a majority of us were left unscathed from our severe blunders,” said Father Anver, deeply bowing. “I shall investigate the staff and write a formal apology to The Laughing Pestilence posthaste.”

I nodded. “Sounds good. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

“And to make up for you hurling your stomach matters onto my shoes, will you kindly please deliver my letter for me?”

I nodded. “Sure, I—wait, what?”

The senior pastor warmly smiled, but that menacing glint in his glasses said otherwise. “I’m sure I made myself clear, yes? Will you deliver my letter to the local post office for me? Preferably by tomorrow? I’m afraid my old, frail legs can only carry me so far.”

With a deep sigh, I slumped my shoulders. “Yes, sir—er, Father Anver. I'm really sorry about ruining your shoes…”

"You are forgiven, my child." He chuckled and walked away. “I’ll start writing right away. Please wait here for a moment.”

We all watched him leave through a door, and as soon as it gently closed behind him, we all heaved a sigh of exhaustion and leaned back on the pews.

“One hell of a day today, isn’t it?” Ashrenne mumbled.

“Tell me about it,” Dahlian mumbled.

“Yeah, thank god it’s finally over. Right, Sloane?” My eyes drifted toward the elf snoring and drooling next to me. “Wow, he’s already fast asleep!”

“Haha, I get him, though.” Ashrenne stared at the mosaic windows glowing orange. “I think we all need a nice, long day off after this.”

“I still can’t help but apologize for dragging everyone into this,” said Lora.

“Drop it, kid. All of you here caused enough trouble for one day.”

“We’re sorry,” Dahlian, Lora, and I mumbled.

“Haaah…” She wiped her forehead and stared at her fingers, where two silver rings warmly gleamed under the sunset’s glow. She softly smiled and said, “You’re all just like him, alright…”

She stretched her arms and stood up. “In all seriousness, none of this was any of our fault. So chin up, all of you.”

We all timidly looked up to face her and her prideful gaze. She grinned and said, “Well done, all of you. I can finally say with sincerity that I’m proud of all of you today.”

The rest of us returned a smile, our shoulders relaxing by the second.

Through the remainder of the dusk, we all idly chatted until Father Anver returned with a sealed envelope and the funds for the shipping fee. With that, we all left the church, went straight back to our base, and promptly got our well-earned rest.