Chapter Fifteen: Deception

Brand paid no attention to the restless crowd around them; his gaze was locked onto Link, who met it steadfastly, neither side willing to yield. The tension in the air grew ever more palpable, as if a spark might ignite a powder keg at any moment.

After a moment’s standoff, Brand narrowed his eyes, menace flashing within them. “Are you not afraid of death?” he asked coldly.

Link smiled upon hearing this, his expression devout. “Before the Father above, my soul is already dedicated to the exalted Father. Death is but another form of rebirth, a path leading me back to His side. I have never feared death, nor have I ever bowed to tyranny. For the sake of saving all living beings, I am without regret or complaint.”

His words stirred even more reverence for Link among the onlookers; some, moved by his noble bearing, announced themselves as his followers. Brand himself, affected by Link’s demeanor, showed a hint of surprise before nodding in approval.

Link simply smiled in silence, his expression lofty and serene. Yet, none could know the string of curses running through his mind, nor that he was quietly summoning the full force of his strength: “Damn it, if you want to kill me, go ahead and try. If you dare make a move, I’ll put a hole in your throat before you can react—no way you dodge a sneak attack at this range!”

At that moment, Link was like a primed bomb, ready to explode, though he concealed it perfectly, betraying no trace of hostility. Outwardly, he maintained an unruffled, gentle smile.

Brand was unable to read Link’s thoughts. After regarding him for a long while, he finally nodded, placed his right hand on his chest, and bowed with the formal apology of a nobleman. “Forgive me, Father. You are indeed a man of great virtue. I apologize for my earlier words and hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

At these words, most people looked on in astonishment. None had expected Brand, who only moments before seemed on the verge of violence, to suddenly apologize with such impeccable noble decorum. Could he really be a noble? Impossible! When had any of those proud, arrogant nobles ever apologized to a mere priest?

The crowd was filled with surprise and confusion. Link, though not feeling the same, nonetheless regarded Brand with newfound respect—he was clear about grudges, meticulous in courtesy, and decisive in his actions. His bearing was far above that of most of the nobility.

Since Brand had apologized, Link saw no reason to dwell on the matter. He magnanimously accepted the apology, and the tension in the air quickly dissipated, returning to a relaxed atmosphere.

Next, Brand placed a bag in front of Link; the sound within suggested it was Sola coins. Indeed, Brand said, “Father, this is my donation to your church. I left in such haste I could only bring two hundred Sola; I hope you will not find it insufficient. Furthermore, I will relay your words to my father. I believe he will come to seek your healing in person. I hope you will not refuse him then.”

Link nodded with a gentle smile. “If he follows the rules and waits in line with everyone else, I will certainly treat him.”

“In line, is it? As you say, when faced with sickness and death, all lives are of nearly equal worth.” Brand laughed softly, shook his head, and then took his leave.

As Brand’s figure receded, the crowd turned their eyes to Link, only to find that same calm, peaceful smile on his face, as if everything was unfolding just as he had foreseen.

Many gazed at Link with admiration, praising him as truly worthy of his title—what a remarkable priest!

Yet who could have guessed that, beneath that tranquil exterior, Link was inwardly wiping cold sweat from his brow. But for the sake of maintaining his noble image, he would never have stood his ground against Brand; just before Brand apologized, he had truly felt the other might attack. Although Brand had shown nothing outwardly, Link sensed he was far from ordinary, perhaps even more formidable than Toronto.

“Fortunately, his bearing and self-control are exceptional. If it had been someone else, there would have been blood today. No, men like him will only become more common—I must expedite the establishment of the Grand Cathedral of Holy Light.” With this in mind, Link resolved to accelerate his plans.

That afternoon, Link continued seeing patients in the slums, the work proceeding smoothly without further incident—until he was about to close up for the day.

Just as the sun was setting and Link was preparing to leave, a patient approached. Link glanced at the newcomer, who was a stranger, already appearing gravely ill.

“Cough, cough… Father, my name is Mock, from Blair City. Can you cure my illness?” The man who introduced himself as Mock looked to Link with a mix of hope and anxiety.

Link replied with a reassuring smile, “Do not worry. Under the Father’s gaze, there is no illness that cannot be healed.” Pausing, he gestured for the man to sit. “Show me your hand—I’ll diagnose you first.”

Mock immediately sat and extended his right hand. Link made a show of feeling his pulse, while quietly employing his Disease-Purging Technique to probe the severity of the illness. This was his usual method: first, use his art to gauge the seriousness, then decide how best to treat and conserve his own strength.

But this time, upon probing with his technique, Link was momentarily taken aback. He looked at Mock with deep meaning. The latter, seeing this, grew all the more nervous. “Father, can you cure me?” he asked anxiously.

Link maintained his gentle smile and, to everyone’s astonishment, shook his head. “I’m sorry—I cannot cure your illness.”

Mock seemed startled, staring at Link’s calm smile with a flicker of panic, which soon turned to anger. “What do you mean? Didn’t you say you could cure any illness? Why can’t you cure mine? You’re a fraud—a charlatan!”

Immediately, the crowd erupted in confusion. Before anyone could react, another man sprang forth. “That’s right—he’s a swindler! I’ve been seeing him for five days and donated so much money, yet I’m no better. He’s only after our money!”

At that, a boy of about fourteen or fifteen burst into tears. “You evil charlatan! Give me back my father! After you treated him, he died not long after. You’re a murderer!”

Their accusations were like a lit fuse. More people stepped forward, denouncing Link with emotional tales, some weeping bitterly, and the crowd’s skepticism grew. Some began to glare at Link in anger, while only a handful of his most devoted followers continued to trust him—their numbers far fewer than the doubters.

Faced with this wave of suspicion and slander, Link’s composure never wavered; his smile remained serene, his gaze fixed on Mock. This made it impossible for Mock to slip away in the chaos. The accusers tried to escalate the disturbance, but Link’s followers held them back, all eyes waiting for Link’s response.

After a while, as Link’s calm demeanor began to influence the crowd, the initial agitation subsided, leaving only the chief instigators making noise. At that moment, Link raised his hand for silence. His followers, long prepared, quickly forced the troublemakers to be quiet, their fierce looks making further protest impossible.

Within moments, silence fell. Link looked at Mock and said with a smile, “Your name is Mock, is it not? I cannot cure your illness, because I am powerless to heal a sickness of the soul—your disease of lies is beyond remedy.”

Mock flinched in panic. At that instant, Link summoned his magic and intoned, “Mock, under the witness of the Father, no lie can be concealed. Do you confess your guilt?”

With that, the Penitence Spell took hold. In his state of panic, Mock fell under its influence, growing confused and then dropping to his knees to confess his crimes.

“I’m sorry, Father, I’m guilty—I lied, I slandered you. I’m not ill at all; I just took a special herb to appear sick. Someone gave me two hundred Sola to frame you, saying others would help accuse you. I was greedy—I shouldn’t have done it. Please, forgive me! I’ll never do it again!”

By the end, Mock was sobbing uncontrollably.

The crowd was stunned. The other accusers panicked and tried to slip away, but at that moment, a group of men—long prepared—appeared, apprehending them one by one. “These are the ones who slandered Father! Don’t let them escape!”

With this, the crowd was further shocked and outrage flared. Those who had believed in Link, and even those who had only doubted, now glared furiously at the conspirators, while those who had believed the lies felt deeply ashamed and resentful toward the troublemakers.

Naturally, the culprits denied everything, but when Link caught one and used the Penitence Spell again, their resistance crumbled. Their minds already fragile, they confessed every detail, fueling the crowd’s anger.

Someone shouted, “Beat these liars to death!” and the mob surged forward, raining fists and kicks upon them. Only the young boy was spared somewhat; the rest were beaten senseless.

Witnessing this, Link shook his head helplessly and glanced into the distance. There, Jack stood in a corner, nodding at him, surrounded by the men who had apprehended the culprits—clearly Jack’s subordinates.

Link had anticipated such a frame-up and had instructed Jack to have his men blend into the crowd, waiting for the plotters to reveal themselves. Thus, not only was the scheme exposed, but the people’s faith in Link was strengthened. Should anyone try such tricks in the future, it would be far harder to sway the crowd.

Seeing that the liars had been thoroughly punished, Link motioned for the crowd to stop, cautioning them not to take any lives, and declared that the Father was willing to grant these people a chance for repentance.

At this, the crowd ceased their violence and praised Link’s magnanimity and the Father’s compassion. Some were moved to become his followers themselves.

In this atmosphere, Link showed a holy and devout expression. “Everyone, three days from now, please gather at the monastery outside the city. The Father has revealed to me that at noon on that day, a miracle will occur.”

——

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