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chapter xv - the guy with the moldy head

Three days ago. In front of Galliard's eyes, Creighton had not exposed the fact that the Grail would be drawn to the country by Joe Marney. He could not fully trust the Presbyterian Church, and also subconsciously continued to think of himself as a human being. Subconsciously, he felt that what was important to the Grail was better kept with the Church. Joe was volunteering at St. Mellon's parish church and figured he was looking for a way to save himself. Clayton made an excuse, claiming to know about the Grail Council from an acquaintance on active duty in the army, because they had caused a cult fiasco at the borderlands, and what they had done sounded like something the legendary Dark Ones and Necromancers would have done. It had been almost three months since Joe Mani had revealed this to the border guards, and it made sense that it would reach Sasha City. Fortunately, the Council of Elders had not been kind to the Grail Council. "That's a bunch of stubborn old things," That was the assessment given by Galeed. He also gave Clayton an explanation that The Grail Society once belonged to a branch of the White Church, and the founder of its sect, Cirilu, had been branded a heretic by the Office of the King of France and expelled from the papal state of Phalyeomas because his understanding of the teachings differed from that of the Pope. Its philosophy is that light and darkness are one, and that the Dark Ones are also creatures of the Father, who share glory with the natural beings. After they were expelled, the Grail Order, with this doctrine, began to actively preach to the Dark Ones, and gathered many followers, and within a few years they were able to rival the Office of the King of France. Then the Papal States of Pharyngulaeumas took the initiative to dissolve the Court of Heresy, and the relationship between humans and the Dark Ones began to warm up. The Grail Council existed as the antithesis of the White Church's orthodoxy being supported by the leaders among the Dark Ones as a use for confrontation. And since the orthodox Papal States made a request to sign a peace agreement, there was no point for the Grail Council to exist. No one cared about doctrinal differences anymore, after all, most of the Dark Ones were different in nature, and often fought with each other, and in the worst cases, some races would devour each other. Without external pressure, those shallow beliefs would not be able to hold them together. The Grail is quickly reduced to a second-rate sect. There used to be Grail forces in Sasha City, but after the fifth mayoral election they became hostile to the Church and were gradually purged from their original hierarchy, and eventually all of them left Sasha City. The local Presbyterian Church was established only after that. It was fifty years ago now that this past was better known, as the then infant Galeed happened to live next door to a Grail priest. As he spoke, Clayton couldn't help but look at him a bit more. Though it was still possible to forget looks after separation, at the moment he found no features of an older man in Galeed's face. "Fifty years? How old are you now?" His tone was all polite. Old Gaylid recalled, "Can't remember, but back then I lived in St. Mauread Parish, like you. The city.Moved to this neighborhood just after the planning project." The nostalgia quickly passed and he warned Clayton, "Stay away from the Grail Council, they are by no means an ally that can be relied upon." "Just from listening to those teachings, I thought they were quite popular." Galeed chuckled at Creighton's thoughts, "But their approach is to harbor all Dark Ones and force them to coexist peacefully, which is something that can't be done at all. You don't think I run into polite newborns every night, do you? My job is to keep order in this city." Clayton understood what he meant and had slightly more respect for him. Clayton had done his share of night duty guarding, and he knew how dangerous it could be. Even if you excluded those supernatural beings, humans themselves were a pretty vicious animal. "But won't the city hall officials and the church clergy mind if someone goes missing?" "No, they support our work." Galliard closed the safe and ruffled the combination disk casually. "But you should be careful not to set foot on holy ground yourself, that would be seen as provocation." He turned to Clayton and warned gravely, "Nowadays priests and church deacons have government-issued licenses to bear arms in addition to blessed sword crosses and holy water, so don't think that the power of the Dark Ones is omnipotent." Clayton nodded thoughtfully. With some more questions settled in his mind, he left the General Sheriff's Office and took a public carriage down the street back to St. Mauread's Parish, where he was going back to his store to see what was going on. He hadn't worked for days on this Grail Club crap. Granted, Charlotte could handle the usual customers, except for the regular ones, but he was the owner of this store after all, and couldn't help but care about his property. The sign for Rusty Silver Coin Antiques tinkled in the wind as Clayton walked in, wrapped in his jacket. Charlotte, behind the counter, saw someone push through the door and her eyes lit up, noticing that it was the owner returning but going slack for a moment. "Mr. Bello, you've been away for the past few days and I've kept the store in good order ......." She suddenly covered her mouth. Because it sounded as if Clayton's presence hadn't played a small role in the operation of the store. Clayton didn't care about that, he looked at the missing empty tables in the display case, calculated the income of the past few days, and then gave a satisfied smile. "You've done well, have you encountered any trouble in the past few days?" "No. But someone sent a letter saying it was for you." Charlotte thought of something and pulled the letter out from under the counter and placed it on the table, there was no information on the surface of the envelope as to the sender, it just said "Attn: Joe Mani". "The name seems to belong to that friend of yours, and I did tell the man who delivered the letter that he had the wrong person, but he wouldn't take it back. Put the letter down and ran away." Charlotte had seen Joe Marney last time and had been a little surprised then that Clayton had such a young friend. Creighton picked up theThe letter sniffed, it smelled of a pungent potion, couldn't smell anything else, not even the scent of Charlotte, the last contact. He glanced at Charlotte and walked to the back room to open the letter. There was fire paint on the back of the envelope. Before opening the letter Clayton could see clearly that it was a chalice design. He kept his head down as he went up the stairs, one finger sprouting wolf hair where the sun couldn't shine directly on it, his nails changing to curved and sharp. What was the case with the other Darklings Creighton didn't know, but it was hard for a werewolf to shift in daylight, and he sometimes honed his ability to show his form by partially shifting. Sharp nails cut through the red wax seal and twisted out the letterhead inside. "You should not resist, your family owes us this. You have one month to return the inheritance and stolen goods or we will destroy this place." There were only a few sentences on the paper, and to say it was a letter would be more appropriate to describe it as a note. He read it in one glance while still on the stairs and understood everything, too, and his face drew tight. As soon as he stepped into the studio, Clayton crumpled all the paper in his hand into a ball and threw it viciously. The snow-white paper ball hit the ground and rebounded twice. Clayton's face was grim as he opened his mouth to the empty studio revealing his white teeth, "Fuck! These unseemly moles, fruit-eating vermin, stupid asses who can't walk in a straight line, and moldy-headed things deserve to be shot!" Consistent expletives spewed from his mouth in a cathartic outburst of rage. Clayton was born into a traditional Mancis family, and as such he was accustomed to a more classical phraseology. The intense mood swings all stemmed from his discovery of a certain truth. The reason the Grail Club people were on to him likely had nothing to do with the only contact he'd had with Joe this month; they were really just looking for Joe Mani, and they'd known Joe in the past, which was why they'd sent that to Rusty Silver Coin. Rusty Silver Coin Antiques used to be the store of Joe's father, Joseph Marney. They thought Clayton was working for the Marney family. That damned Grail Club hadn't even looked into it; the store had been bought out by him long ago and had ceased to belong to the Marney family four years ago! It was his Creighton's property and the Grail was threatening Joe Mani with it! It wasn't threatening Joe, it was threatening him! Blood rushed through his body, and Creighton's anger shot up to his brain with uncontrollable fury as he braced one hand on the edge of the table and tightened his fingers, snapping off half a palm-sized chunk of the hard wooden tabletop and snapping the pale yellow fibers under the force of his grip. He stood up straight and went behind the table, subconsciously trying to pull his revolver out of the drawer and pin it on, before remembering that Joe Marney still had the gun, and becoming even more irritated. He was going to go to Joe Marney now and straighten this out, and give Joe a couple of punches in the process. In any case, it was Joe who was a little more responsible. If Joe hadn't gone back to Sasha City, Clayton could have stayed out of it entirely.