Barbarian's Adventure in a Fantasy World-Chapter 213: The Wandering Merchant’s Quest (2)

“Is something wrong?” Ketal asked Seraphina, noticing her intense gaze.

Seraphina hesitated before speaking. “Your bracelet... Is that a holy relic of Kalosia?”

Ketal nodded. “It is.”

“I thought so...,” Seraphina murmured in disbelief, her voice almost lost in the hush that followed.

As a devout follower of the god, and one whose strength placed her among the highest echelons of her faith, Seraphina immediately recognized the bracelet for what it was. She’d suspected from the start, but even knowing, it was hard to accept. She simply had to ask, just one more time, for confirmation.

“How did you acquire it?” she pressed.

Ketal’s bracelet was unmistakably a true holy relic, the sort that only a god could grant permission to use. In the history of the churches of the continent, such bestowals were so rare that they bordered on legend. Even within the vast, powerful Sun God’s Church, there was not a single member who could claim to have personally received a divine relic as a permanent gift. As for Seraphina herself, she had, on occasion, borrowed a relic for the purposes of battling evil, but it was always on loan, a tool for a task, to be returned the moment the mission ended.

Yet, here was a barbarian, openly wearing a true relic of Kalosia. Seraphina spoke again, her tone more cautious than before. “Did you perhaps receive permission from the Saintess of Kalosia?”

Ketal shook his head. “No. I received it directly from Kalosia.”

“What?” Her voice cracked, eyes wide. “You met with the god directly?”

The others, who had been listening quietly until now, all turned toward Ketal in shock.

Seraphina’s mouth dropped open. “You spoke with Kalosia face-to-face?”

“It might be easier if I just show you,” Ketal said.

He produced the sigil Kalosia had granted him, the one he had received from Shadranes. It was a pattern composed of a hundred overlapping marks, each etched with unique artistry. Seraphina’s breath caught at the sight.

“May I hold it?” she asked him, almost reverently.

“Of course.”

Seraphina took the sigil carefully into her hands. As her fingers traced the complex patterns, a quiet gasp escaped her lips. She understood what it was.

As the Chief Inquisitor, Seraphina was not only deeply versed in the lore of her own faith, but had also made it her mission to memorize information about all the religious orders and holy artifacts scattered across the continent. She had seen and studied every kind of divine symbol, but nothing like this.

It was a sigil given to a benefactor of the church, and she recognized the meaning behind each layer. However, a hundred layers was completely unheard of.

She examined the first layer, which was awarded to someone who had aided the order. The second was given to a friend of the faith. The third was reserved for honorary believers whose merits warranted special recognition.

Even a single mark of this kind was considered a rare and high honor. Here, dozens of such marks were intricately woven together.

At the very center was the last layer, a mark reserved only for those acknowledged personally by the god.

Unbelievable, Seraphina thought.

Even as the Chief Inquisitor, Seraphina had never once spoken directly to a god. If the symbols were genuine, and she could tell they were, then this barbarian stood above her in terms of divine recognition. It made no sense that he had received a sigil with a hundred layers. Only one explanation made sense.

“During the recent demonic invasion... Were you staying at Kalosia’s holy land?” she asked Ketal.

The Tower Master had done everything possible to block information about Ketal’s involvement in recent events. However, no matter how thoroughly secrets were kept, whispers still managed to slip through the cracks. The rumors had begun to spread that during the latest demonic assault on Kalosia’s holy land, an unknown savior had intervened to turn the tide.

No one could say for sure who it was. Some claimed that Kalosia had descended in person. Others insisted it was a legendary hermit, a hero long hidden from the world. The entire continent buzzed with speculation, and the Sun God’s Church was actively searching for the identity of the mysterious figure.

Ketal nodded. “I was there. I helped defend them.”

“I see...” Seraphina’s voice was quiet, but the puzzle pieces were coming together.

So, the barbarian who stood before her was the one who had saved Kalosia’s holy land from destruction. The realization was both humbling and awe-inspiring. As a contractor with a Legendary spirit, he certainly had the power to accomplish such a feat.

But another question gnawed at Seraphina. Why hadn’t Aquaz mentioned any of this?

Aquaz had only recently returned to the Sun God’s Church. As Chief Inquisitor, Seraphina had received a report detailing Aquaz’s journey, including her time at Kalosia’s holy land. Yet, nowhere was there any mention of a barbarian companion.

The answer became clear: the Saintess of the Sun God’s Church had learned of Ketal’s deeds from Aquaz, and, for reasons of her own, had immediately ordered Aquaz to keep the barbarian’s existence a secret. No one in the order was to speak of him.

“Do you know someone by the name of Aquaz?” Seraphina asked him.

“Of course,” Ketal replied with a smile. “She’s an Inquisitor of the Sun God. She’s also a friend of mine.”

“Friend?” Seraphina blinked, as if the word were foreign to her.

“Yes, we’ve met several times now,” Ketal said. “We even journeyed together to the City of Merfolk recently.”

“Journeyed together?”

“Just recently, in fact. We traveled together for quite some time.”

Seraphina fell silent, caught off-guard by just how much she hadn’t known.

Ketal grinned, picking up on her surprise. “Judging by your reaction, I guess she made it back safely. I’m glad to hear it.”

“Yes... she’s back and well.” Seraphina nodded absently, mind already racing ahead.

It was clear now that Aquaz had been deliberately hiding information about Ketal. Seraphina narrowed her eyes. She’d have quite a bit to discuss with Aquaz once she returned to headquarters.

Meanwhile, somewhere far away, Aquaz, resting at the Sun God’s Church, shivered inexplicably.

The others who’d been listening to the exchange began to put the pieces together as well. It was now obvious that the barbarian standing among them was the one rumored to have defended Kalosia’s holy land. The hidden savior spoken of across the continent was Ketal.

Seraphina lapsed into silence, deep in thought.

Now it was Bloodedge’s turn. The Mercenary King gazed thoughtfully at Ketal. The man before him, with his ashen-gray hair and calm demeanor, was clearly no ordinary barbarian.

Where are you from?” he asked, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Denian Kingdom,” Ketal answered easily.

It wasn’t a lie, as he had come here on the Wandering Merchant’s commission from the Denian Kingdom.

Bloodedge’s eyes widened. “The Denian Kingdom?”

“That’s right. I’m a mercenary myself,” Ketal said, a grin spreading across his face. “It’s an honor to meet such a legendary senior.”

“You... you’re a mercenary?” Bloodedge’s mind raced, recalling recent events.

Not long ago, during a gathering with the head of the Mercenary Guild, a troubling incident had come up. The Dungeons in Denian Kingdom had been acting strangely, with more and more mercenaries losing their lives to bizarre phenomena. But then, one day, a supposedly A-Rank Dungeon had been reclassified as AAA-Rank, which was an unheard-of leap in difficulty. Yet, miraculously, every mercenary who entered survived and returned.

It was so unusual that the Guildmaster had gone out of his way to share the list of participants with Bloodedge. And on that list was a ashen-haired barbarian named Ketal.

Bloodedge’s voice grew softer. “Did you ever participate in a raid in Denian Kingdom?”

“I did. It was a fascinating Dungeon,” Ketal replied, recalling the memory with a wry smile.

Now Bloodedge understood: this was the very barbarian the Guildmaster had asked him to look into. To think the continent’s first-ever Legendary spirit contractor was a mercenary! The implications for the guild were enormous. Bloodedge made a mental note to report back to the Guildmaster as soon as he could. The news would send shockwaves through their ranks.

As the conversation found its flow, Spellweaver, who had been observing quietly, interjected with a question of his own. “You mentioned you learned alchemy. Did you study under a school of the Mage Tower?”

Ketal shook his head. “No. I learned from Arkemis.”

“Arkemis?” Spellweaver blinked, clearly impressed. “You mean the Arkemis?”

“You know her?”

“Of course!” Spellweaver exclaimed.

Arkemis was famed throughout the continent as a master alchemist, a legend, even without her status as a High Elf. Her talents were so extraordinary that even the Tower Master himself had expressed interest in her work. Many who dreamed of mastering alchemy had set out to become her disciples, but not one had ever succeeded in learning her secrets.

Spellweaver couldn’t help but ask, “She taught you personally? You’re her student?”

“That’s right. She’s my teacher,” Ketal said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Spellweaver was stunned. If this was true, then any visit Ketal made to the Mage Tower would be met with the highest honor, and every alchemist within the tower would scramble to establish a connection with him, hoping to learn Arkemis’s secrets for themselves.

Wait a moment... Ketal said he had traveled with Aquaz. That means..., Spellweaver wondered for a moment before asking, “Do you know Baker?”

Baker was a mage who had left the Mage Tower to become an Inquisitor. He had only recently returned, bringing stories of battling monsters in the deepest abyss and of encounters with strange and powerful spirits. Dozens of mages had pestered him for information about the Demon Realm he had seen, but thanks to the Tower Master’s intervention, any mention of Ketal had been carefully suppressed.

Ketal nodded. “Of course I know him, he’s a friend. We traveled beneath the sea together. Is he well?”

“Uh... yes. Yes, he is.” Spellweaver stammered, trying to mask his surprise.

Ketal grinned. “That’s good to hear.”

Spellweaver’s mind raced. He made a silent vow to interrogate Baker as soon as he returned to the Mage Tower.

Elsewhere, Baker, currently resting and recuperating at the Mage Tower, shivered inexplicably, much as Aquaz had.

After a pause, Seraphina, who had been quietly piecing together Ketal’s story, spoke up. “Then, is your spirit contract also thanks to Arkemis?”

Given that Arkemis was a High Elf, nearly as close to a spirit as any being could be, it made sense to assume Ketal had learned spirit magic from her.

However, Ketal shook his head. “No, I didn’t learn that from her.”

“Then who—?”

“I formed the contract at the elven sacred ground,” Ketal replied.

“What...?” Seraphina wondered if she’d misheard.

“The elven sacred ground, Elfo Sagrado,” Ketal clarified.

He had asked Karin for permission to share the story before leaving, and Karin had assured him it didn’t matter. She realized that the word would get out eventually. With nothing to hide, Ketal spoke freely.

Spellweaver’s jaw dropped. “Elfo Sagrado? You actually went there?”

The elven sacred ground was a land of myth, its location known only to a select few. It was said that only those the elves trusted completely would ever be invited. No human, so far as anyone knew, had ever set foot within its borders, and even those who did kept utterly silent about it. For Ketal to have gone there, to have contracted with a Legendary spirit... it meant the elves had placed their full faith in him.

“Then the recent demonic incursion at the elven sacred ground—were you there as well?” Spellweaver asked him, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Ah. So the news is already spreading,” Ketal said. “Yes, I was there too.”

“I see,” Spellweaver said, letting out a shaky laugh.

If one were to summarize Ketal’s story so far, it would sound like something out of legend. He was the one who had saved Kalosia’s holy land from a demonic assault, earning a holy relic and a personal conversation with a god as his reward. He was also the student of the continent’s most mysterious alchemist, Arkemis. He was so trusted by the elves that he had been invited into Elfo Sagrado itself, where he had contracted with a Legendary spirit. By rights, the entire continent should know his name.

So why, Spellweaver wondered, has no one heard of him before?

The answer, of course, was the Tower Master’s doing. He had worked tirelessly to suppress all information about Ketal. Normally, such feats and miracles would have made their way to every corner of the world. However, through manipulation and careful orchestration, the Tower Master had contained the story, making sure that even the continent’s strongest Heroes and most powerful organizations were left in the dark.

It hadn’t been easy. Controlling the flow of information on such a massive scale required the utmost finesse—one misstep, and people would sense the presence of a hidden hand. If any of the continent’s other great powers caught wind of his interference, it could cause a major crisis.

Yet, somehow, the Tower Master had pulled it off. Not only did no one know about Ketal, but no one even questioned that fact. It was, by all accounts, a masterwork of secrecy—a feat so extraordinary that the Tower Master couldn’t help but brag about it to his only apprentice, boasting for hours about how he had managed to pull off the impossible.

Still, in the end, all that effort was for nothing. Here was Ketal, standing face-to-face with the very people he’d been hidden from.

The continent was beginning to recognize his existence at last.