Chapter 52: Dispelling the Undead

Seeing the look of confusion on Zhao Xu’s face, Archbishop Soth gently set down his iridescent porcelain cup and remarked, “You don’t actually think you’re just lucky, do you?” Zhao Xu shook his head firmly—only a fool would admit to being special.

“Don’t worry,” Archbishop Soth reassured him, as if sensing Zhao Xu’s guarded thoughts.

“Don’t mind him. This fellow was in the same class as me back in the day,” Rayne added. “He didn’t have the talent, so he became a priest, while I advanced smoothly to become a Nine-Circle Mage.”

A Nine-Circle Mage—someone able to cast ninth-level spells, at least a seventeenth-level wizard. The term comes from the number of circles on a wizard’s badge.

Zhao Xu glanced at Archbishop Soth, whose temples had already turned silver with age, then looked to Rayne, who was barely past thirty. He couldn’t help but sigh inwardly: even high-ranking priests couldn’t extend their lifespans as easily as mages.

But then, for these devout priests, to reach the divine realm and dwell eternally with their deity—perhaps even ascend to angelhood—might be a more desirable fate.

“Your situation is, in fact, that of a priest variant,” Archbishop Soth continued.

At the mention of a variant, Rayne couldn’t help but glance at Zhao Xu.

“Is this what you called a monastic priest?” Zhao Xu asked quietly.

“Exactly. In Arthur, everything has its own path. Your advancement has been guided toward that of a monastic priest; it’s not simply a matter of gaining an extra domain.”

“What’s the price?” Zhao Xu pressed further. Ever since he’d acquired the ability of a discerning spellcaster, he was well aware that every additional power came at a cost.

Every profession has a limited pool of potential. Allocate more in one direction, and you’ll have less in another. Otherwise, everyone would follow the same path.

“Compared to ordinary priests, monastic priests undergo less martial training and focus more on study and prayer,” Archbishop Soth summarized, rising to retrieve a book from the bookshelf in the corner of the reception room.

Upon hearing this, Zhao Xu gained some understanding. In Arthur, priests weren’t the kind of support healers who hid at the back lines. Their divine magic could be used to empower themselves, turning them into formidable engines of war.

During the Demon-Sealing War, Zhao Xu had seen firsthand that when frontline warriors fell, priests would seize their warhammers and charge forward to battle horrific creatures from the outer planes.

Unlike mages, who suffered arcane failure rates when wearing heavy armor, priests, whose magic was granted by the gods, could don heavy armor with impunity.

So this scholarly, non-martial path for priests actually fit quite well with his dual-class life as a wizard.

By now, Archbishop Soth had retrieved an ancient tome and handed it to him.

“This is the biography of the previous Pontiff, Her Holiness Tia. Like you, she was a monastic priest. In the days to come, read this book to better understand the traits of this priestly variant.”

Zhao Xu accepted it respectfully, leafed through a few pages, then closed it again to listen attentively.

“Generally, monastic priests, due to their discipline, are rarely of chaotic alignment. Because of their scholarly nature, they gain the ‘Knowledge Domain’ and a special ability called ‘Lore,’ similar to the bard’s ‘Bardic Knowledge.’ You’ll come to understand this in time.”

“And the drawbacks?” Zhao Xu, ever rational, cared most about the balance of gains and losses. If the price was too steep, he would have to voice his complaints, even if he couldn’t change it.

“A priest’s hit die is D8, but a monastic priest’s is only D6. Also, monastic priests are only proficient with simple weapons and light armor.”

Zhao Xu pondered this—still within acceptable limits. He’d only advanced to first-level priest, so the difference in hit points was negligible. The price was minor, especially since he wasn’t concerned about weapons training.

“I think I understand,” Zhao Xu nodded.

“Then let us get to the main topic,” Archbishop Soth said, fixing his gaze on Zhao Xu. “Do you know which ability I am about to guide you in mastering?”

The faint scent of incense wafted through the room, making Zhao Xu’s head spin slightly. He was about to shake his head when a memory surfaced.

In his previous life, whenever the town encountered undead, people would seek out a priest. He’d seen priests directly suppress undead with a particular power. If he remembered correctly, it was called—

“Turn and Destroy Undead,” Archbishop Soth said directly, “or, for evil priests, ‘Command Undead.’”

Zhao Xu drew a deep breath.

He’d struggled to deal with the weak “skeleton warrior” summoned by Antinoya, only managing a one-hit kill because the creature’s hit points were below average. If he’d possessed this ability from the start, he could have easily suppressed it.

“We good-aligned priests can channel the power of the ‘holy symbol’ to turn or destroy undead. Evil priests, on the other hand, command and rebuke them.” With that, Archbishop Soth handed him a holy symbol. “This was once my own, and now it’s yours.”

Zhao Xu accepted it gently. The six-pointed star of the goddess was vivid on the front, while the reverse bore Archbishop Soth’s name and the inscription: “Wisdom and knowledge endure.”

Rayne watched in silence from the side, a subtle smile on his lips.

Zhao Xu understood—this was a gesture of friendship from Archbishop Soth. A holy symbol carried for decades by a priest was no trivial gift.

With this token, even if he were not a priest, he could move unimpeded throughout Archbishop Soth’s diocese. Perhaps, with this friendship, even the coveted “Resurrection of the Dead” or more powerful miracles were within reach.

He’d once thought the power struggles of Blue Star were complicated enough. Yet here, in this reception room, the head of the goddess’s church, the archbishop himself, was offering him open friendship.

Archbishop Soth would be departing in a few days, and perhaps never see Zhao Xu again in this life, yet he was willing to place his bet so openly on someone who wasn’t even a first-level priest.

Priests of the goddess were not known for burning bridges; the wagers they placed, they honored, even with tears in their eyes. Zhao Xu suspected there were deeper reasons at play. He’d once thought priests were paragons of virtue, but it turned out they were as shrewd as anyone.

Watching Zhao Xu hesitate, yet not refuse the gift out of modesty, Archbishop Soth looked satisfied.

The best time to plant a tree is either ten years ago or right now.

He continued, “The number of times a priest may use this ability each day is three, plus your Charisma modifier.” He handed Zhao Xu two books. “Here are the church’s official manual and my own notes on the subject. Read them well.”

Zhao Xu glanced at the titles: “Turning and Destroying Undead: The Priest’s Path,” and Archbishop Soth’s personal notebook. He smiled wryly to himself—so even as a priest, he couldn’t escape a life of study.

Still, he’d set his Charisma to thirteen, granting a modifier of one. That meant he had four uses per day for turning or destroying undead.

“Did you get it?” Rayne turned to ask.

“Get what?” Zhao Xu was momentarily lost.

“The turning ability, of course.”

Zhao Xu was speechless. Did Rayne think this was cabbage at the marketplace, available just because you asked? He hadn’t even read the books yet.

He glanced at his character sheet, intending to jot down the details—when suddenly, his eyes widened in shock.

He really did have it.