Chapter 104: Ashimida

Staring at Flandre’s infuriatingly smug face, Link truly wanted to slap him, but restrained himself. He knew that if he dared make a move, he would be the one flying across the room. What was Flandre’s true identity? He was a Spirit of the Holy—much like Nyarlathotep from the Cthulhu Mythos, an insidious deity who delighted in chaos, madness, and corruption. Just as Nyarlathotep thrived on earthly turmoil, this fellow seemed equally fascinated by human disorder and insanity. It would be strange if such a being actually sold information to quell chaos; more likely, he stoked the flames to worsen it.

Keeping that in mind, Link fixed a forced smile on Flandre’s face and said, “You really are as disgusting as Miss Xingye described.”

“Thank you for the compliment; I’m truly honored,” Flandre replied with an even more infuriating grin.

Words failed to bridge the gap; receiving no useful intelligence, Link no longer wished to linger. He collected the remaining magic stones and left the Red Dragon Commerce Guild branch.

Still, this visit left Link somewhat satisfied. Though he hadn’t obtained all the information he sought, the crucial pieces were now known. In his mind, a clear plan for the next steps began to form.

Lost in thought, Link returned to the military camp, intending to greet Bass and his son, as well as the followers of the Father God Church, before heading back to Quinko Town. Since the destruction of the Count’s estate, Bass and his son had remained within the camp, feeling secure only under military protection.

Upon hearing Link’s plan to return immediately to Quinko Town, Bass and his son expressed regret but did not press him to stay. Just as Link was about to leave, Rosa suddenly recalled something and quickly called out to him with a somewhat embarrassed expression.

“Archbishop Neil, may I trouble you for a favor?”

Link smiled gently. “If the Count has something to say, please speak plainly. If it’s within my abilities, I am happy to help.”

Rosa looked at Link gratefully and sighed. “It’s like this, Archbishop Neil. A dear friend of mine perished in the Rift Disaster, leaving only his son alive. A few days ago, the child was brought here under the care of my servants. But as you know, my duties are overwhelming, and I bear the King’s sacred mandate. I have no time to care for the boy properly—sometimes I don’t even know if he’s alive. So, I was hoping to entrust him to you, to become a devotee of the Father God. Would that be possible?”

“Oh, I thought it might be something else. Of course, that’s no problem. Where is the boy, and what is his name?” Link readily agreed.

Rosa relaxed and smiled, though tinged with sorrow. “His name is Ashmida Victor, the youngest son of Baron Victor of Bira City. He has a remarkable magical talent that surprises many, but unfortunately, he was born blind. No matter what method has been tried, there’s no cure.”

At this, Rosa seemed to remember Link’s remarkable skills and hurriedly asked, “Archbishop Neil, do you think you could heal him?”

“Well… it’s worth a try,” Link replied thoughtfully. He had never treated congenital blindness before and was unsure if his magic would work.

This answer filled Rosa with hope, and he immediately led Link to meet Ashmida. Along the way, Link pondered the name Ashmida. He felt he had encountered it somewhere before—then it struck him. This was the name of the Virgo Gold Saint from the Saint Seiya prequel, “The Myth of Hades.” Although Link had never read the manga, he had seen pictures and names of that generation of Gold Saints online. They were predecessors to the main saga’s saints.

Upon meeting Ashmida, Link’s eyes lit up, and a name flashed through his mind: Shaka, the Virgo Gold Saint.

The boy was equally handsome, with flowing golden hair cascading to his waist, eyes closed just like Shaka’s, and a distinctive crimson mark on his forehead—a subtle but defining detail. Sitting quietly in a room, Ashmida was strikingly beautiful, perfectly matching Link’s mental image of the Virgo Gold Saint. The only difference was that this boy was still very young—just thirteen years old, according to Count Rosa. Unlike Shaka and others, who seemed almost supernaturally developed, Ashmida stood only about 1.5 meters tall and might grow to approximately 1.7 meters at most.

As they entered the room, Ashmida ‘looked’ toward Link and Rosa. Rosa asked gently, “Ashmida, how are you? Have you been comfortable here?”

Ashmida politely stood and replied in a rich, androgynous voice, “Thank you for your concern, Uncle Rosa. I’m doing well; those you assigned to care for me have been very kind.”

“That’s good to hear.” Rosa nodded and smiled. “Today, I brought a great archbishop for you—Archbishop Neil, whom I mentioned before. He wields extraordinary and wondrous power, a true representative of the Father God. He will surely cure your eyes.”

“A representative of the Father God?” Ashmida blinked slightly, as if recalling something, but then quickly masked it with a wistful, slightly bitter smile. “Uncle Rosa, you needn’t trouble yourself. My blindness is not due to illness or curse—it’s congenital. No matter how skilled a person is, they cannot cure it.”

“Unless you try, how can you know?” came a gentle voice in response—but not from Rosa; it was Link.

Hearing this, Ashmida ‘looked’ at Link and said, “Such a gentle and kind voice. Are you Archbishop Neil?”

“That’s right.” Link smiled and stepped forward. “Child, relax and let me try. Perhaps there will be an unexpected blessing.”

Ashmida parted his lips, as if to speak, but said nothing. Finally, with a calm tone tinged with hope, he said, “Thank you, then.”

Link nodded and immediately cast a disease-clearing spell on Ashmida, but it had no effect—clearly not a sickness. Then he channeled his magic again and applied the Touch of Holy Light. Bathed in the sacred radiance, Ashmida showed clear surprise and ‘looked’ at Link, though his closed eyes gave no clue to his thoughts.

When the light faded, Link asked, “How do you feel? Any improvement in your eyes?”

Ashmida shook his head, surprising both Rosa and Link. “Even holy light magic has no effect on your eyes? That’s impossible. My magic dispels all negative conditions.”

Ashmida offered a bitter smile. “Dispels all negative states, you say? Heh. Archbishop Neil, thank you for your efforts, but my eyes have always been this way. Once, a magician my father hired told me that my body was fine—the real problem lay in my soul. It seems a flaw in my spirit causes my blindness. Archbishop Neil, surely your magic cannot heal the soul?”

Link was momentarily at a loss for words. Of course, he could not heal spiritual ailments; if he could, he would have already sought out Remilia’s sister for treatment.

Seeing Link’s reaction, Rosa sighed and smiled wryly. “Archbishop Neil, don’t blame yourself. This is no fault of yours. Ashmida, I’m sorry for raising your hopes in vain.”

“No, Uncle Rosa, you’ve done more than enough. This is neither your fault nor the Archbishop’s,” Ashmida said with a smile, shaking his head. “Moreover, the Archbishop’s treatment was not without effect. After the holy light spell, my long-troubled sixth sense seems to have awakened. Though I cannot see you, I can clearly sense your presence.” His voice trembled slightly with excitement.

“Sixth sense?” Link and Rosa exchanged surprised glances. Then Rosa asked, “You mean you can now perceive me by feeling alone?”

Ashmida nodded. “It’s still unfamiliar, but yes. Uncle Rosa, your aura carries strength mixed with a hint of oppression and killing intent. Archbishop Neil’s aura is gentle, kind, like warm golden sunlight.” He then bowed his head slightly to Link. “Archbishop Neil, thank you for your help.”

Link quickly stepped forward to help Ashmida up. “Child, there’s no need for such formality. I’ve only done what is right.”

But Ashmida refused to rise, shaking his head with solemnity. “No, Archbishop Neil. Without your aid, I don’t know how long it would have taken to develop this sixth sense. What may be a simple favor to you is a rebirth for someone like me, who has lived in darkness all his life. I will never forget your kindness.”

Moved, Link gazed deeply at Ashmida, while Rosa laughed heartily. “Ha ha ha! If that’s how you feel, Ashmida, you won’t have trouble repaying Archbishop Neil. I’ve already told him to welcome you into the Father God Church as a devotee. If you want to repay him, then serve the noble Father God and the Archbishop well!”

“Join the Father God Church?” Ashmida murmured, then curiously asked, “May I ask which Father God I would serve?”

Though the question might seem impolite, given the multitude of religions and ‘Father Gods,’ Ashmida’s inquiry bore no ill intent. Link smiled gently. “The Father God we serve is Father God Link himself.”

Rosa added earnestly, “Ashmida, the Father God Church is no charlatan sect. It is a great church with a true deity at its center. The noble Father God has manifested several times, bestowing divine grace and miracles to protect mortals. You must not doubt His majesty.”

Ashmida whispered a prayer, then said something unusual, “Perhaps this truly is the real Father God.” Then he smiled and nodded, promising to devote himself wholeheartedly to serve Link and the Father God.

With that vow, Link saw Ashmida become his novice disciple.