Chapter 103: Various Pieces of Intelligence

“As you know, Princess Shakuya vanished without a trace after that day. Some say she died, others claim she was sealed away. In truth, she encountered Lady Remilia Scarlet, the princess who commands fate. She was subdued by her and became her maid, contributing greatly during the Scarlet family’s internal strife,” Flandre spoke with a sigh. “After becoming Lady Scarlet’s maid, Princess Shakuya resolved to forget her past and wholeheartedly fulfill her duties, even changing her name to Seiya. Heh, Seiya? Actually, that name commemorates her sister, the sorrowful Princess Izayui — the night sky, isn’t that Seiya?”

Link listened silently, nodding slightly. He drew a deep breath, lamenting Seiya’s fate and feeling relieved that he hadn’t revealed the truth that day. If the lord who once razed a city in rage knew that his own master was wounded because of him, the entire Father God Sect wouldn’t suffice for her wrath, and even the most revered paladin’s presence would merely be a minor inconvenience.

A saint, indeed—a being rivaling the Holy Spirit, and in this case, a saint who kills without a blink.

Just imagining Seiya’s fury sent a chill down Link’s spine.

At that moment, Flandre shifted gears, smiling warmly: “By the way, Archbishop Neil, now that you know the tragic tale of that sorrowful princess, you might have a chance to win her heart. You are no ordinary man; what is impossible for others might not be so for you. At least, I have never seen a human under the protection of that lady. With your strength, if you have opportunities to interact with Miss Seiya, perhaps you could even win her affection.”

Link raised an eyebrow, a faint, sardonic smile crossing his lips. “Mr. Flandre, you jest. I don’t believe I could ever win Miss Seiya’s heart. Besides, compared to her, I am more concerned about you now. As she said, you are truly dangerous. I suppose I must heed her advice and avoid contact with you from now on.”

Flandre’s expression turned anxious. “No, Archbishop Neil, please don’t shun me! I’ve already been warned by Lady Scarlet not to come near you. If I can’t even interact with you, how am I to survive? I sincerely wish to witness your rise and fall with my own eyes!”

“Fall?” Link narrowed his eyes. “Has anyone ever told you, Mr. Flandre, that your mouth deserves a good slap?”

“Heh, that’s just my nature, Archbishop Neil. No need to mind me—I’m a man who never lies, only speaks honestly what I think,” Flandre said with a pure smile.

Suppressing the urge to punch him, Link calmly said, “Enough. You’ve told me all you know about the Scarlet family. Let’s move on to other matters.”

“Oh? Archbishop Neil, aren’t you going to continue researching the Scarlet family? If you’re willing to pay more, I can tell you much more.”

“No need. I already know enough. Sometimes, the more you know, the sooner you die,” Link said flatly, declining Flandre’s offer.

Flandre sighed regretfully. “That’s truly a pity. Well then, Archbishop Neil, what else do you wish to know?”

“I want to know whether the Bal Cult is the architect behind this Rift Disaster, what their true motives are, and how they managed such a feat,” Link asked in one breath, voicing the three questions weighing on his mind.

Flandre smiled faintly. “I see. The Scarlet family story was merely a test; this is the information Archbishop Neil truly seeks. That makes sense—if I were fully aware of the Holy Spirit’s affairs, I’d have no reason not to know this either. And even if I wanted to hide it, you wouldn’t believe me.”

Link gave no denial. “Your price.”

Flandre snapped his fingers. “For the first question, one high-grade magic stone will suffice. For the second question, combined with the remainder of the first, two high-grade magic stones are needed. The third involves a human saint. It’s less costly than the Scarlet family intel but still requires two magic stones. Do we have an agreement?”

“Agreed.”

Five magic stones vanished from the table. Flandre promptly delivered his answer: “The Rift Disaster was indeed orchestrated by the Bal Cult. Their goal is simple—to awaken their destructive deity, Bal. Actually, Bal is a Holy Spirit—the Spirit of Destruction. Alongside Bal are the Spirits of Fear, Diablo, and Hatred, Mephisto. They are three brothers, ancient and powerful. Archbishop Neil, what’s wrong? You look uneasy.”

Flandre noticed the peculiar expression on Link’s face and asked curiously. It was not fear, nor amusement, but something akin to wanting to laugh yet unable to.

Laugh? What’s funny about knowing the enemy’s backers are so formidable? Surely a trick of the mind, Flandre thought.

What Flandre didn’t know was that the so-called three Holy Spirit brothers reminded Link of a classic game he played before crossing over—Diablo. The three big bosses were the Bal brothers, tragically defeated countless times by players, essentially loot sources. Hearing Flandre mention the three brothers immediately made Link want to laugh.

Of course, he dared not reveal this, so he quickly suppressed the urge and calmly told Flandre to continue.

Though puzzled, Flandre didn’t press further. “Though the Bal brothers are Holy Spirits, they are weak—mediocre among their kind. They survive by deceiving mortals to gain sustenance. Eventually, human saints defeated them to the brink of extinction, leaving only their souls struggling to survive. The Bal Cult was founded by Bal himself using his remaining power to manipulate mortals. Their goal is to use mortal negative emotions to reconstruct their divine forms.”

He spread his arms, a sinister smile curling his lips. “To some Holy Spirits, mortal negative emotions are the finest nourishment. Destruction, fear, and hatred are what the Bal brothers crave. They aim to harness the overwhelming negative energy from the Rift Disaster to revive themselves. Archbishop Neil, if you want to confront the Bal Cult, you’d better act quickly. Once the Bal brothers resurrect, it will be difficult to deal with them. Keep in mind, saints in the mortal world are nearly extinct and, due to certain reasons, even those who know of the calamity cannot intervene easily.”

Link raised an eyebrow. “What reasons prevent the saints from intervening?”

Flandre shook his head. “That’s not a trivial secret. If you want to know, you’ll need at least two hundred high-grade magic stones. Moreover, knowing this won’t benefit you; once you know, powerful entities will mark you. Don’t imagine they won’t notice—some things are detected by arcane means as soon as you entertain related thoughts.”

Link nodded. “I don’t want to attract their attention. Then I won’t ask. Now, can you tell me the last thing?”

“Certainly. The Bal Cult possesses a treasure called the ‘Sacred Grimoire,’ an ancient scroll recording primeval magic. It contains spells to open space-time rifts and control the Rift monsters. It was authored by a human saint named Saint Bai Lian a thousand years ago. She was a great magician and an idealist. Witnessing endless human conflicts and clashes with the alien tribes of the Adimen Continent, she vowed to end hatred and foster peace between humans and aliens.”

“At the time, she was considered radical and was shunned by many factions. Though popular among the common folk, when her aid to the aliens was exposed, her reputation vanished. Humanity was still at war with aliens, and such acts were tantamount to self-destruction. Consequently, several human saints banded together to exile her to the Demon Realm, sealing her away. To this day, I don’t even know if she’s still alive.”

“Demon Realm? Is such a place real?” Link’s interest piqued. Though legends spoke of the Demon Realm, no one had recorded it through concrete means; it was often thought to be merely a negative dimension on the other side of a space-time rift.

Flandre extended a finger. “This intel isn’t a big secret. One high-grade magic stone.”

Link frowned slightly. “You really are a merciless merchant.”

“Heh, merchants are cunning by nature. Archbishop Neil, no need to compliment me—I’d be embarrassed,” Flandre replied with a classic grin.

Link nearly choked on his drink, then tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Deal. Answer quickly.”

“Thank you for your patronage,” Flandre accepted a magic stone with a smile. “The Demon Realm does exist. It was created by a powerful ancient Holy Spirit within a negative dimension, a small world unto itself. It has always existed, but neither beings from the positive realm nor powerful entities from negative realms can enter it. At most, they can banish things there for sealing. And once someone goes to the Demon Realm, they cannot return.”

“I see…” Link frowned deeply.

Flandre noticed and said, “Archbishop Neil, don’t tell me you want to rescue Saint Bai Lian from the Demon Realm? Heh, I advise you to abandon that hope. Even the Holy Spirits cannot touch that land, let alone a mere mortal like you.”

Link hummed noncommittally. Knowing Saint Bai Lian’s noble ideals and character, he entertained the thought it might be possible to sway her into becoming an ally or follower through shared ideals.

Of course, that was just a thought. Even if he could rescue her, whether he should do so was another matter entirely. He was not one to trust a person’s character based on stories or one-sided words, especially someone exiled and sealed for over a thousand years.

Glancing at his remaining nine magic stones, Link said gravely, “Where is the Bal Cult’s hideout? What are their numbers and combat strength?” He braced himself for Flandre’s exorbitant price.

But this time, Flandre did not name a price. Instead, he smiled and gave a reply that nearly made Link want to punch him.

“No, no, no, Archbishop Neil, I cannot tell you that. If you knew, wiping out the Bal Cult would be too easy. That would spoil the fun. I am waiting to watch the show. I cannot let you ruin this impending spectacle. So, I will neither sell these details to you nor to anyone else.”