Blood of Mercury

In the Marquis of Saya, Helga and Kakarit sat face to face. Helga waved away the maid who was standing beside him, stood up, and poured a cup of black tea for Kakarit with his own hands.

Her eyes were flushed, and her face was as white as paper, with no trace of blood to be seen. Perhaps because of the lack of sleep all night, her long pink hair has lost its luster. Even the makeup couldn't make up for her haggardness.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Father..."

Helga's voice was hoarse, but his tone was clear: "If it weren't for you, I would definitely be dead now..."

"I'm sorry, Miss Saya."

Kakarit sighed.

Helga's hands trembled when he heard this. The black tea in the cup showed a circle of ripples.

She lowered her head, hiding her expression in the shadows.

"If I could have come earlier...if I could have been stronger..."

"—No, that's not your problem, Mr. Father."

Helga interrupted Kakarit with a voice.

She looked up, her eyes flickering faintly again, but this time the tears didn't fall.

Her voice was still hoarse, but she had stopped crying, and said steadily and slowly: "You saved me, this is a fact... If I am still dissatisfied with this and pick and choose, even Mother Gaia will blame me. of."

Kakarit took a deep look at this girl who was sensible but fragile and slender, and could not help but feel a certain emotion in her heart.

pity? pity? No... that kind of feeling is closer to the kind between father and daughter. Kakarit looked at Hellan's expression at the moment, and a certain string in his heart was slightly touched.

"Miss Saya, please don't move."

He said in a clear and steady voice, and stretched out his right hand towards Hurland.

Hurland subconsciously wanted to turn her head away, but when she heard Kakarite's words, she abruptly stopped her impolite actions. Maintaining a slightly rigid movement like this, she tilted her upper body slightly towards Kakarite, her long pink fluffy curly hair falling vertically down from her shoulders.

Kakarit pressed the index and middle fingers of his right hand to Helga's forehead with extremely gentle movements. He gently and slowly drew a cross on Helga's forehead, and the soft holy light blew out. It came out from Helga's forehead and gradually wrapped her body.

The light lasted for about five or six seconds before it gradually subsided, Helga's expression relaxed, and her face flushed with blood again. Hair also regained its luster.

"mother……"

Helga murmured unconsciously.

That's right - a warm and peaceful feeling like being in her mother's arms was something she couldn't forget for a long time.

It's like being in Mommy's arms...like when I was a kid...

It seems that he can fall asleep in the next moment, and it seems that he has already fallen asleep. The sleepy afternoon sun of spring shone on the body, bringing a warm fragrance.

...It seems that you haven't slept in a nap for a long time, right?

A vague thought emerged from Helga's mind. She woke up suddenly.

Helga didn't even know if he fell asleep, but when he saw Kakarit who was smiling at him. Only then did she realize what had happened. Realizing that he murmured "Mom" in front of a stranger, Helga's face flushed in an instant, from his forehead to behind his ears.

"Hug, sorry! I'm sorry... eh?"

It wasn't until Helga calmed down from the sudden panic that she felt her spirits improved a lot.

Like a real sleep, the body rests and recovers. Helga's spirit has stabilized a lot, his mood has become calm, and his body is no longer weak.

This is an experience Helga has never had. It's not that she hasn't been healed by a priest, but the priest's healing has left a bad impression on her, both inside and outside of Kalar.

Simply put, the priest's treatment is either too painful. Either the anesthesia is too strong and the skin becomes dull. On the contrary, Druid's treatment, with a drug-like experience, is unexpectedly comfortable.

And the treatment Kakarit gave her, compared to the rough priest, gave her a good impression of a druid.

Not to heal the wounds and restore vitality, but to restore the body to its whole body—it was a warm impression that reminded her of a caregiver more than a cold doctor.

"You should have experienced it too."

Kakarit said, with a serious face: "The magic of the gods I serve is not those brutal treatments."

"Do you want to open a church here? Or do you want to preach here?"

The wise Helga immediately realized what Kakarit wanted to say.

True. Such magic can even reverse the Kalar people's inherent impression of magic. Let them no longer resist the pastor. As a port city, Richelo will bring great changes to Caral, whether it is internal or external.

Whether these changes are good or bad, but for Kakarit. But obviously there will be no good results.

Helga frowned in confusion.

It's not that Helga is selfishly worried about his prestige and status. Rather, she was convinced that Kakarit's life would be at risk regardless of whether Kakarit's mission had achieved substantial results.

It might give the impression of being petty or ungrateful, but Helga was going to stop him anyway.

So, Helga made up his mind. He said neatly: "You can't do this, Mr. Father."

"Even if you really reverse the people's inherent impression of magic. The three sages will not allow their people to have some kind of compassion for the priest. If you really achieve a miracle, in the end Maybe it will cause them death.”

Helga's face was unusually serious: "I'm not alarming. Under special circumstances, multiple blighters can directly 'purify' a city. Although nothing similar has happened in Caral in recent years, but This is not without precedent."

"Perhaps, Mr. Father, you come from a place that talks about evidence...but the Blighters won't tell you about evidence. They always despise evidence that can be faked and destroyed, and they believe in themselves more than that kind of thing. Your intuition. If something goes wrong, they will probably burn all the believers you developed directly to death..."

"Alright, alright, alright... I understand, I understand," Kakarit interrupted Helga, whose voice became more and more rapid, with a helpless expression, "Then, I won't preach here... but Is it okay for me to treat the injured in my own name?"

"You have to know that if you suspect an affair with the priest, Risero can't tolerate these people."

Helga sternly said.

Kakarit nodded knowingly: "That is to say, I'll just take them away."

"That's natural," Helga nodded. "Ricero is in the process of rebuilding after the disaster. He is understaffed and doesn't have the energy to hunt down some refugees."

"Thank you very much ~www.wuxiaspot.com~ Miss Saya. I, Kakarit, salute you for your generosity and kindness. May the Master shelter you until rest."

Kakarit stood up, made a cross on his chest with his right hand, pressed it on his heart, and bowed slightly to salute: "Miss Saya, you have a pure heart..."

Suddenly, Kakarit seemed to have heard some instructions, showing unusual concentration.

Remaining absent-minded for about a few seconds, Kakarit straightened up a little embarrassedly, and then whispered to Helga: "Sorry..."

"Do you need to stay here for a while?"

Helga guessed Kakarit's meaning from his expression. Instead, the fourteen-fifteen-year-old girl showed a smile: "Just right, I haven't invited you to dinner. Please be sure to show your face."

"Thank you, Miss Saya."

Kakarit nodded gratefully: "I will pick up two people here and leave, and I won't cause you any trouble. Before I do it again, leave the wounded of Richero to me for treatment." to be continued.)