Michael frowned in thought. Was it because of his modern mindset that the power manifested as a game-like system?
"And this sealing business," Michael began. "If the Outer God is sealed, do I lose the abilities it granted?"
Miaomiao let out a derisive snort. [Worried about losing your precious powers? Relax. Even if the god is sealed or destroyed, the abilities remain. The power has already been severed from the god, so it's independent now. Many so-called 'heroes' of old received their abilities this way. It's a double-edged sword, though. The stronger the Outer God, the harder it is to seal. For a fragment one, a high priest with the right relics can destroy it. If it's the god's main body, only someone on the level of the pope can do it. And if the god descends in full, you'd need another god's core to seal it. Judging by the strength of the relic we destroyed, the god tied to you is strong. Alfred will have his hands full.]
Miaomiao finished with a mischievous chuckle.
She enjoys Grandpa's suffering, doesn't she? Michael thought with a sigh.
Hoff, shaking his head at their casual attitudes, muttered to himself, "Young people these days—they don't seem afraid of anything."
With Hoff still fretting, Michael and Miaomiao returned to their respective tents. The night was giving way to dawn, and some problems were best left for time to resolve.
Meanwhile, back at the Holy Knights' camp, chaos reigned.
"It's gone! Gone, I tell you! That damned corpse peddler—I'll kill him myself!!!"
Xenon's furious screams echoed through the forest as he cursed Leonardo for the vanished relic.
At the same moment Xenon was throwing a fit, cursing Leonardo and hurling objects around his tent in a rage, the so-called "corpse peddler" was being carried along on the shoulders of an old man who resembled a monster.
Surprisingly, Leonardo had begun to grow comfortable with the arrangement. The old man's broad shoulders were stable, his stride steady and swift. It wasn't much different from being carried by a corpse golem, after all.
Perhaps it was Leonardo's survival instincts, honed by years of enduring an abusive upbringing, that allowed him to adapt so quickly. Still, his thoughts strayed to the goddess he had been trying to protect. Her presence was growing fainter, and he feared she might soon fade entirely. He had to find her a new host body.
But trapped as he was, his options were limited.
Leonardo decided to try reasoning with the old man carrying him.
"Sir, if I may, there's a safe house within this territory where I keep my artifacts. You must be hungry, no? I left a meal untouched because I was called away by the goddess so abruptly. It's probably still fresh. I even used a magical tray to preserve it. You don't have to worry about hygiene—one of my many talents back when I was a celebrated artisan. Before I became a necromancer, I crafted artifacts for prominent lords. My skill in working with corpses eventually surpassed my craftsmanship, so I shifted careers, but my reputation as an artisan was notable. If we could visit, I promise it wouldn't interfere with your plans. Quite the opposite, actually—it might help."
Leonardo's ability to ramble was impressive, especially while hanging upside down.
The old man, Alfred, glanced at him with mild disdain but chose to ignore him. This one can't be trusted, Alfred thought.
Frustrated by Alfred's silence, Leonardo became increasingly desperate. If he could just lure the old man to his safe house, he could activate the traps he had prepared there and eliminate him!
"Sir, please. There are so many precious artifacts there. Leaving them would be a waste. By the way, how old do you think I am? I look like I'm in my twenties, don't I? Actually, I'm over forty. I even have an artifact that restores youth! Judging by your imposing figure and sharp features, I'd wager you've made your share of women cry. With my artifact, you could—"
Before Leonardo could finish, Alfred smacked him into silence.
Alfred had tolerated the man thus far because his summoned undead were performing their roles as porters adequately. But this incessant chatter had pushed him to his limit.
Leonardo let out a muffled cry and fell limp. The undead, fortunately, continued their march undeterred.
Good. Now this is more tolerable.
As Alfred quickened his pace, the ribbon around Miaomiao's neck swayed, indicating the direction they needed to go.
Meanwhile, Michael's day began on a lighter note. After completing his morning routine, his first order of business was to feed Miaomiao the special meal he had promised—beef.
As Miaomiao ate noisily, Michael found himself reflecting on the events of the previous day.
So it wasn't a dream.
[What are you staring at? Never seen a cat eat?] Miaomiao shot him a glance before returning to its meal.
After finishing, the cat cleaned its face meticulously with its paw before hopping onto Michael's shoulder.
Talking cat or not, Miaomiao was still just Miaomiao. Michael decided it was better this way. If she could speak, she could be useful, and that was what mattered.
Several hours into their march, Michael finally relaxed. The Holy Knights hadn't uncovered his involvement in the theft of their relic.
[See? I told you no one would figure it out. They underestimated the wisdom of the great Sphinx. Next time, listen to me.]
"What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening?" Michael asked suddenly.
[Wait... give me a second.] Miaomiao's brow furrowed in concentration.
Amused, Michael left the cat to ponder the riddle as they continued toward Count Charles's camp. By the time they arrived, the sun was setting.
Having already sent word of their delayed arrival, Michael's group was warmly received.
"I'm glad you arrived safely. I heard there was trouble, but Sir Michael handled it admirably," Count Charles said with a smile.