In the northern town of the Territory of Kelvim, preparations to exterminate the Undead Beasts have kept everyone busy day after day.
“Flora-chan, please bring the next batch of water!”
“Leave it to me!”
“I’ve finished filling the bottles here; are there any empty ones left?”
“The glassmaker has made some new ones for us!”
Amidst the lively voices echoing around, I am also helping the townsfolk prepare Holy Water. The pot we used to make the stew the other day has been meticulously washed and polished by Mr. Gilbert and the others, and now it serves as a Vessel for the Holy Cleric to transform spring water into Holy Water.
As the Holy Cleric begins to pray over the pot filled with spring water, the children and elderly nearby join in, inspired by the sight. According to the Holy Cleric, the more people who pray, the stronger the blessing of the Holy Water becomes. Those with free hands gather around the pot, forming a circle to pray, and I am fortunate enough to be included at the end of the line.
Standing next to the pot, Ms. Barbara stirs the mixture slowly with a ladle, ensuring the concentration is uniform.
“Yes, yes, this is wonderful. Hee hee hee!”
“…Old woman, that laugh of yours is intentional, isn’t it? It’s starting to look like a suspicious ritual group…”
Mr. Gilbert and the mercenaries, holding a barrel of water, chuckle half-heartedly at her antics, which are meant to amuse the children helping out. Indeed, from a distance, it might look a bit suspicious…
Mr. Dolf is working with his private soldiers to construct a catapult. Their strategy involves first lifting the barrier that seals the Undead Beasts and then launching stones purified with Holy Water to reduce their numbers.
“Who would have thought we’d come to a day when we’d purify stones…”
“You never know what might be useful, so it might be a good idea to purify various things.”
Despite his words, the Holy Cleric preparing the Holy Water for the stones seems to be enjoying himself.
◆◆◆
As the day of the Undead Beast extermination operation approached, the sky began to darken with thick clouds.
“We’re nearing the rainy season. If it rains, visibility and footing will be poor…”
Count Kelvim, the lord of the territory, glared at the sky.
“Will the blessing of the Holy Water disappear in the rain?”
“Not at all. Holy Water is essentially a catalyst for transferring the Holy Cleric’s blessing into a Vessel. Once a weapon is purified and blessed, it retains that blessing.”
When I voiced my concern, the Holy Cleric smiled gently and explained.
“We, the Holy Clerics, manifest the blessing directly as healing or purification. That’s why we need Holy Water. On the other hand, Sorcerers directly bestow blessings onto the Vessel.”
A priest from the Western Grand Church added this clarification, and Ms. Barbara nodded in agreement.
“…But the blessings from Sorcerers can be troublesome. You never know what might happen.”
Hearing this, Ms. Barbara chuckled softly.
“Well, generally, what happens aligns with the prayer’s intent. For example, if you pray for the pot to provide a hearty meal, that’s what will happen. If you pray for a sewing machine to be convenient for its future user, it will gain an effect suited for that purpose.”
Then, Ms. Barbara gently stroked the pot used to create the Holy Water.
“But blessings, as the priest mentioned, can amplify when combined. A single prayer doesn’t determine everything. Just like how using my pot makes your cooking even better, it’s because of that strength that sometimes the outcomes can be unpredictable.”
Nodding along, the priest continued with a smile.
“In that sense, Mr. Dolf is both a craftsman and a Sorcerer.”
“That’s right. Sorcerers are actually everywhere. Anyone with a selfless blessing is one. Among them, those with particularly strong guiding and amplifying powers are called Sorcerers because they can create wondrous phenomena.”
The idea that Sorcerers could be found everywhere felt wonderful. Even without the power to fight, the children and townsfolk prayed daily for the peace of the town and the safety of their families. If those prayers combined could eventually become the magic of blessings…
As we finished our tasks and began preparing dinner, the town suddenly erupted in commotion.
“Injured person! We need healing!”
A private soldier rode in, carrying a bloodied man clad in unfamiliar armor and wielding a strange shield.
“Hey, that shield belongs to the Knights of Jiemeld! What happened…?”
“I was on my way to confirm the situation in the Duchy of Jiemeld, but the checkpoint was sealed, and I couldn’t proceed. While I was wondering what to do, I found him along the way.”
“I’ve administered basic healing, but I specialize in barriers, and I’m not very good at healing…”
The Holy Cleric accompanying the messenger looked pale. They rushed the injured man into the church, where other Holy Clerics skilled in healing and recovery gathered to begin treatment.
“…What a disaster. I anticipated this, but could it be that the Duchy of Jiemeld is in the same situation…?”
“Is it possible that the proud Knights of Jiemeld could fail in their extermination efforts…?”
With Count Kelvim’s murmurs, an unsettling atmosphere spread through the town. Behind him, Lord Lionel and Mr. Gilbert wore similarly troubled expressions, deep in thought.