Chương 5: A Feast for Knowledge

"Ma," the girl whispered, tugging her mother's sleeve.

"What's that star? The bright golden one that doesn't blink." Her mother followed the small finger pointing into the dark. The star hung above the roofs of Rusalka, steady and pale, brighter than the rest.

"That?" she murmured.

"That's the Divine Museum. Or so the priests say. It's where the Curator Gods keep all the strange things of the world."

"Like the lightning swords and magic rings?"

"Mhm. Shelves and shelves of relics."

"What about the magic potions that let you grow wings? The magic cakes that make you as strong as an ox and as fast as a mouse?"

"They keep those relics there, too." The girl watched the star for a while longer.

"…Do they ever give any of it to us?" The mother smiled faintly.

"Sometimes," she said.

"If they like what we leave at their door." —Conversation between mother and child The grand dining room was ridiculous. That was the first proper word that came to Orland's mind as he entered. A long dining table ran nearly the full length of the gilded chamber. Silver fixtures hung from the ceiling, while tall windows by the sides overlooked the entire town below the hill. Though night had already taken most of the view, he could still see the lamps and lanterns of Rusalka scattered down the hill.

In any case, the chairs alone looked more valuable than his life. Then he saw the food on the table and he almost froze mid-step. He didn't even recognize half of the dishes on it. There was braised fish glazed in butter and herbs, roasted birds with crackling skins, and black breads still steaming at the tears. The other dozen platters were too fancy-looking for him, but there was one thing he knew—no way in the seven hells could just three people finish everything on the table.

For one second, he hated Ludoslav and the Belograd Household all again. There were the slumborn, and there were the people who got to look at food like this every night. Ludoslav, however, mistook his stare for admiration alone.

"No thin inn fare for a guest such as you, Hero," Ludoslav exclaimed, gesturing towards a chair near the middle of the table.

"Salt, butter, meat, and grain, the staples of Rusalka! Now sit, sit! Even the Saint-Monarch's hounds are fed before dawn marches, yes?" Whatever the man just said. Orland didn't refuse the invitation while Milena sat beside him and Ludoslav sat across both of them. He tried, of course, to remember that Heroes probably had manners—but then one of the many dozens of servants standing around the hall stepped in to serve a plate with utensils before him, and the slumborn in him sent his manners straight to hell.

He ate, bread torn by hand, meat stripped from the bone. He swallowed dumplings so hot they almost hurt. Ludoslav had evidently been planning on some grand speech before the feast was to commence, but in the face of such voracity and appetite, even the man's mouth hung half-open as he stared at Orland.

"... The templars of the Curator Church say your homeland lies somewhere beyond the northwestern green belts, yes?" Ludoslav finally said, smiling heartily as he gestured at Milena to start eating as well, no fanfare.

"Ah, but one hears ten things from ten bishops. Some say you hail from the vineyard county, while some say you hail from the marble coast. Regardless, a commonality in everything I was told was that the Hero's favorite food is river sturgeon smoked over cedar ash. Is that true?" Orland nodded absentmindedly, though he kept the information in his head.

"Mghm. Sure." Then he winced as he accidentally looked straight into one of the wall-mounted lanterns behind Ludoslav. The back of his neck itched.

"Can you… uh, get rid of some of the lanterns? It's too… bright." The brightness wasn't the real problem, but he didn't want to talk about what his real problem was. Thankfully, Ludoslav immediately turned and glared at his servants, who started hurrying around without question. Meanwhile, Milena kept pulling small porcelain dishes towards Orland.

"Try this," she said.

"It's river-pike dumpling with saffron butter. The chef only makes them when papa's trying to impress someone."

"What are you talking about, little swallow?" Ludoslav gave an affronted sniff, turning back to the table once half of the lanterns were extinguished.

"I'm always impressive."

"Yes, but only sometimes edible." She laughed at her own jab, and since she laughed, Orland laughed as well. But he didn't get the joke. If he could have his way, he'd just keep on inhaling the food and make sure his stomach wouldn't go empty for the next month, but he was still pretending to be the Hero—and that drew attention to more parts of him than just his face. As he kept chowing down on everything Ludoslav had to offer, he noticed Milena's gaze drifting slowly down to the gauntlet resetting beside him.

He'd taken it off before sitting partly because it still felt strange on his hand, and partly because eating while wearing a gauntlet seemed like the kind of thing that'd expose him as an idiot… but now he felt a small lump in his throat. Maybe he should've kept it under his coat.

"That truly is the Star-Element Gauntlet," Milena murmured, leaning closer and giving him a sweet smile.

"May I tag it?" Orland looked at her mid-bite, mouth full of fish.

"May you what?"

"Check its description with my tag." That made him pause. A tag meant information. Considering he still barely understood what the gauntlet did beyond 'earth fist appears when death is nearby'... He nodded. Milena brightened at once. She drew a small golden paper from a decorative case at her waist—much, much finer than the scrap even Baba Marza used—and placed the relic gently against the back of the gauntlet. Black letters immediately washed over the paper.

Name: Star-Element Gauntlet Type: Active Elementum-Class Relic, Epic-0 Attribute Addition: +5 Might Ability Description: When mana is channeled into the gauntlet, the holder can control all earthly materials in a small area around themselves with great visualization. The mana activation cost depends on the amount of materials being controlled. The gauntlet can be upgraded to control four more elements.

The types of materials offered for the upgrade will determine the elements that can be controlled, while the qualities of the materials will determine the variety of the element that can be controlled. Once a new element is obtained, it cannot be removed.

He still couldn't read for his life, but fortunately, there were people here who knew how. If he played it a little cleverly... He turned to Milena with what he hoped was a thoughtful smile.

"You know, I wonder how much you know about relics. If you know enough, I'm thinking maybe I'd… take you along… with me?" That landed. Milena's eyes up lit instantly, while Ludoslav's face opened into pure delight.

"Oh-ho!" the governor exclaimed.

"Even though the Hero's prophesied companions have already been determined by the Curator Church, he is still willing to consider others? Gods above, how generous! How broad-minded!" Orland blinked. Prophesied companions? That sounded dreadful, but he made a note to panic about it later while Ludoslav turned to his daughter with great pride.

"Go on, Milena," he urged.

"Answer whatever the Hero asks. Perform well, and perhaps yet you may bring great glory upon the Belograd name." Milena straightened in her chair at once and brushed her hair back over one shoulder.

"What would you like me to test me on first?" she asked, putting a hand on her chest.

"For your information, I've been educated by the finest mentors in the Belograd region. One of my old history teachers was even a former Saint-Archbishop, so I'm sure I can answer anything you throw at me." Uh… To be honest, I didn't think I'd get this far. Thank the gods for his mask, because his eyes were darting around the hall, looking for anything that might inspire any good questions in his head. This was an opportunity to learn about all the things he'd never had the chance to learn, so what could he ask?

What was a question basic enough that the answer would help him be the Hero better, while not being a question so basic that it gave him away?

"... Let's start with relics," he said slowly, picking up his spoon and fork.

"What, exactly, are relics?" Milena, to her credit, didn't mock him.

"Of course." Then she snapped her fingers, shouting 'bring the display over', and a servant appeared a few moments later from the side of the room carrying a glass orb on a velvet cushion. Inside the orb rested a tiny model of building, perfectly crafted in miniature wood. Milena took it and held it up between them before moving her chair closer to Orland's.

"Look," Milena whispered, winking at him.

"I love this little display. I put it on the ceiling every night I go to bed." With that, she stared into the orb as though she were concentrating something into it, and golden light immediately started blooming from within. Orland leaned away as the glow rose up and out of the glass, unfolding into a brilliant illusion floating above the table: a magnified image of the same building housed inside the orb. He blinked up at it. It wasn't a chapel or a temple or some shrine… or anything he recognized, really.

The front of the building was all marble, tall arches, and carved columns. Even the Belograd Manor wasn't as grandiose as it. Milena watched his face and smiled, clearly pleased she'd managed to impress him.

"Somewhere in the stars, far beyond mortal reach, there is a realm we call the Divine Museum," she began.

"Inside the Divine Museum resides the Seven Curator Gods, and each of them governs a different class of relic by guarding a different section of the museum. The Divine Museum is unreachable by mortal hands. It is the land of divinity—far too distant, far too sacred—but fortunately for mortalkind, the Seven possess a certain craving: mana-rich materials from the mortal realm.

Thus, long ago, they bestowed upon mortalkind the knowledge to create 'Altars', and by praying before the Altars, mortals can reach the gods and barter with them for relics." The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Orland kept his eyes on the floating temple as he continued eating.

"So you gotta barter for relics?"

"It is the law of fair trade even the gods follow. Mortal men offer mana-rich materials to the Altars, and in return, the gods return relics from the Divine Museum equivalent in value to what was offered," She patted the orb lightly.

"For example, this is a wonderglass projection orb, an Implement-Class relic. Papa traded for it from Seluku, the Trickster of the Chamber of Wonders, using a bundle of star-salt resin as the main offering, a polished dreamshell pearl as the side offering, and a glass orb as the base offering. Its ability, as you can see, is to project whatever is placed inside the orb at a larger scale when mana is poured in." Then Milena peeled the golden paper off his gauntlet and gave it a small wave before him.

"And this relic is called a tag," she said.

"It's a Trinket-Class relic that allows you to see the information of all living beings—relics included, for in the old stories the Arch-Templars of the Curator Church tell, all relics are made from the divine blood and bones of the Seven, which means all relics are, in part, alive." She tilted her tag towards his wrist.

"When placed on a relic, a tag shows its ability description among other details, but when placed on a person… may I, out of sheer curiosity?" Orland's stomach dipped.

"No," he blurted. Milena looked slightly taken aback by his immediate answer, and Ludoslav suddenly looked a little fearful for his daughter, but he shook his head quickly.

"I mean… I'm the Hero. I can't let people see my tag." Ludoslav immediately looked relieved. So did Milena, for that matter, who let out a soft breath of relief.

"Thank the Seven," she muttered.

"I thought I'd offended you by—""Can I take that from you?" He changed the topic.

"The tag, I mean."

"The tag?"

"I… uh, lost mine on the way here. Can I have yours?" Milena gave her a quizzical expression.

"You don't need one, though. You're wearing the mask of identification, which allows you to see tags without having to physically possess a tag relic. I think… it also stops other people from seeing your tag while you're wearing it?" Orland blinked. Then he looked down at his wrist, trying to visualize that rectangular piece of paper, but this time on his skin. Come on, come on, come on… He squinted. He focused. He unfocused, focused again, and unforced again. Nothing.

So when black letters suddenly washed across the surface of his skin like wet ink—and across the upper corner of his vision—he almost flinched in surprise.

Name: Mask of Identification Type: Passive Trinket-Class Relic, Rare-0 Attribute Addition: None Ability Description: When the mask is equipped, the holder can passively identify and see the tags of all living beings around them. The mask also protects the holder's tag from being viewed by others. The passive cost is 3 mana regeneration per hour.

Name: Orland Grade: Common-7 Title: None Title Ability: None Acquired Skills: None (0/10) Might: 8 (+5) Dexterity: 8 Resilience: 9 Clarity: 9 Mana: 98/117 (+6/hr) Relics: Mask of Identification (Rare-0), Star-Element Gauntlet (Epic-0) The tag he was seeing in the upper corner of his vision was for his mask, while the one over his wrist was the tag for himself. … So I'm the only person who can see these? And nobody can see my tag while I'm wearing the mask?

He'd seen his personal tag many times before—that was, every time he entered or exited town under the guards' bored stares—but seeing wasn't the same as understanding. The words had always been locked doors to him, so now that he had the opportunity to learn…

"Yep. I… uh, I was just testing you to see if you knew what my mask did," he said to Milena, keeping his eyes locked on his wrist.

"Now tell me what information can be found on a personal tag. Go from top to bottom. Pretend I'm a slumborn boy who can't read."

"Gladly!" Milena beamed at him.

"At the top, there is the person's true name. Then there is the person's grade, which is the Seven's general measurement of someone's strength and power. After that comes the person's Title, the associated ability, and their acquired skills. Of course, you are the Hero, so your Title would be 'Hero' alongside the ability tied to it.

As for your acquired skills, I'm sure many, many great warriors and scholars had offered their experience as main offerings for acquired skill tags, so you mustn't be lacking in that department as well." Orland smiled and tried not to look confused. He wanted desperately to ask what a Title actually was, because he'd heard the word before and knew it mattered. Being a guard and being a 'Guard' wasn't the same thing. One could have the position without the ability.

As for acquired skills, she didn't properly explain what they were either. What part of explain like I'm a slumborn boy did she not get? he wanted to grumble. Still, lingering too long on the topic felt dangerous. He shouldn't pretend to be too stupid now when there were surely at least one or two more dinners to come.

"Keep going," he said as calmly as he could, gulping as he moved onto his next dish.

"What are the next lines?" Milena sat up straighter, happy to continue.

"Next comes the person's physical attributes represented in four general traits: might, dexterity, resilience, and clarity. Every ten levels in one attribute is roughly equivalent to one average human's worth in that trait. After that, there's the person's mana capacity and mana regeneration per hour, which determines whether or not they have the ability to use certain relics. Finally, at the very bottom of the tag, it displays all relics currently equipped by the holder."

'Levels'. That meant numbers. A quick glance at his tag showed there were five lines with numbers from top to bottom. Eight, eight, nine, nine… So my physical ability's below the average human? It made sense, he supposes. He was still getting taller every year. But there was an additional number next to his might level in particular, and he didn't know what that was.

"So how does someone raise their physical attributes?" he asked.

"With age and exercise, I guess, but also with…"

"Relics!" Milena answered.

"When you equip some relics, they'll raise your physical attributes. Your Star-Element Gauntlet, if I recall correctly, is an active-type relic that—at this moment—gives you an additional five levels in might when equipped. As long as you wear it, your total might will be your base might in addition to your additional might."

"Oh." He did recall seeing numbers on the tag of his gauntlet as well. Maybe that was where the addition symbols came from.

"And… what about mana capacity and mana regeneration? How do you get more of them?"

"There are many ways! A person's mana core typically develops with age, but you can also eat mana-rich foods to accelerate the progress, meditate to increase your mana circulation, or expose yourself to dense mana environments for prolonged periods among other methods," she said.

"But, without a doubt, the fastest and most consistent way to develop one's mana core for most people is consuming manabrew potions. They are consumable-type Apotheca-Class relics that increase mana capacities and mana regenerations, and I would offer you all of our stock now, but unfortunately, the manor's store of manabrew potions is currently dry.

If you would stick around for one more week, we would receive a new shipment of them from Klyk Vorta in the east, and we would be able to give you all the potions you would want!" Milena beamed at him then, and he gulped a little in response. There was still too much he wanted— needed —to know. She'd mentioned classes of relics. What were they? Titles? Acquired skills? How could he make one of those Altar things, and how could get relics with magic materials?

Did that mean the lesnik fox tails he'd been selling all these years could've been turned into relics? So many questions crowded behind his teeth, but… no. Not now. He'd already asked too many questions tonight. He had to spread his ignorance out evenly to not draw as much suspicion.

"Good job," he said, smiling awkwardly.

"You really know a lot." Milena lit up under the praise.

"Thank you!" Ludoslav chuckled into his wine cup.

"So, then, will you consider taking her with you on your journey around the Blessed Lands?"

"Uh… sure. I'll think about it." But of course, he had no intention of taking anyone with him as he 'left town'. The best way to divert the subject was to return to finishing his feast, and gods, he couldn't believe there was only one dish left in front of him. Had he really eaten the other dozen platters while Milena was talking?

"This is the best dinner I've ever had," he mumbled.

"Do you guys eat like this every day?"

"Oh, yes!" Ludoslav nodded.

"And you'll have the best breakfast tomorrow morning before you set off to defeat the God-Sucking Leech as well, so not to worry! You won't be running on an empty stomach during the battle!"

"... Right," he muttered.

"That." But, as if sensing his anxiety, Ludoslav's ears suddenly perked.

"Are you feeling tired, Hero?"

"Huh?"

"You must be tired from the long walk here. Come, let me show you to your room! You'll need all the strength you can get to defeat the God-Sucking Leech tomorrow!" Before Orland could protest, the governor clapped thrice. The small army of servants around the walls immediately swept forward to clear the table, and while Orland stared at their synchronized movements in awe, both Milena and Ludoslav rose to come around to his side.

"I'll take you there," Milena whispered, grabbing his arm and hauling him up. There was little room to protest by now, so Orland simply chewed his lip and gathered his things as father and daughter guided him through corridors so lavish they felt almost toxic to his eyes. Soft carpets muffled every footsteps. Lamps burned in crystal housings every few corners.

He followed Ludoslav and Milena in a daze, trying to store the route in his head at first, but he gave up quickly—the manor was almost as confusing as the vine mazes in the forests outside of town. After what felt like five minutes of straight walking, at last they reached the guest bedroom. Ludoslav opened the door with a flourish. Inside waited a bed broad as a wagon with multiple wardrobes, thick curtains, polished furniture, and enough open space that Baba Marza's entire shop might be able to fit in it.

"Get good rest tonight," Ludoslav said, patting him on the back and nudging him in.

"My servants will come wake you sharp at the eighth bell in the morning. If you need anything for the night, just shout for any of them—they will be at your beck and call." Orland opened his mouth. He still wanted to ask about the beast he was going to be sent out to hunt tomorrow, but Ludoslav was already ushering Milena out as well, and before he could get more than a breath out, the governor closed the door and left him alone. The silence that followed felt absolutely enormous.

He stood in front of the door for a long moment, inhaling slowly, exhaling slowly. So much to do tomorrow. So much to prepare for tomorrow, but… First, he walked over to three of the four wall-mounted lanterns and extinguished the flames with hard blows, dimming the room. Then he turned towards the giant bed, walked forward, and threw himself face-first into the cushion. The mattress gave under him with a softness so absurd he almost bounced. Is this heaven? A room of my own like I'd always wanted.

Soft and fluffy bed—and a pillow too. Gods be good, I… He stared at nothing for a bit, and then he rolled over, flat on his back, to stare up at the beautifully carved ceiling. … Would the real 'Hero' have liked this? Was he the type of man who would've enjoyed this sort of luxury? Then practicality returned with a shake of his head. No point thinking about that. Rather, he had to think about what he had to do tomorrow with that leech thing, but before that…

Snapping upright on his bed, he turned to look at the door to the side of the room. Curiosity got the better of him, and he skipped over to push the door open quietly. To his surprise, it was a bathroom. An attached bathroom. He immediately stepped inside with his jaw hanging—he typically took his baths in the freezing river water outside of town, and only once every few days, but the bathroom here had polished floor tiles, mirrors on the wall, and even what looked like a faucet on the ceiling at the back.

The faucet caught his interest the most. He beelined straight for it and tested it timidly, turning the knob on the wall sideways. Hot water immediately sprayed from the overhead faucet. Hot. Water. He laughed under his breath as he quickly backed away from the water, stripping at Orland record speed.

The ornate furniture outside were whatever compared to the luxury of having hot water in a house, so for the next five minutes, he washed more thoroughly than he'd ever had in his life, trying not to think too hard about the fact that Ludoslav and Milena simply lived like this as a matter of routine.

By the time he finished drying himself with one of ten different towels and clothed himself in some sort of loose bedrobe placed on the basin, the warmth in the bathroom had loosened the aches in his cuts and bruises he'd suffered just before dinner. Granted, Ludoslav's servants had immediately bandaged him after his fight with Kazimir, but nothing beat a warm shower. Nothing.

But just as he was about to step out of the bathroom with his clothes, gauntlet, and mask—intending on getting an early night's sleep so he could wake up super early tomorrow to figure out a plan to defeat the leech—he noticed something. Through the slit under the door, his bedroom's lights had been completely extinguished. I didn't do that, did I? I left one lantern still burning, didn't I? Very slowly, the last of the ease he'd earned from the shower left his body. … Is there someone in the room?

He slid his gauntlet over his right hand and leaned his ear against the door. Nothing. Then he closed his eyes and listened even closer. Still nothing. Slowly, very carefully, he pushed the door open a little—and then he immediately fell through the floor, the bedroom vanishing around him. A void enveloped him.