The Life of a Wise Cult Leader - Chapter 96

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Fire

Data, whatever. Erendor couldn’t understand a word his spirit was saying.

Well, he could understand the words, but he couldn’t comprehend their meaning.

He was a born spiritmaster and a skilled spiritmaster who had spent decades with high-grade spirits.

And though he was only half, he inherited the superior spirit affinity of elven blood, and having learned ancient language and spirit language to find artifacts, he understood every word Ife said without missing a single nuance.

‘From the nuance, it seems similar to memory… but that doesn’t seem right either.’

It seemed like a word closely related to the Ascetic subtly losing himself.

And he needed to somehow make the Ascetic come to his senses for his purpose.

‘The more I think about it, that Viola bitch… made things troublesome.’

Despite beating her whenever he got annoyed, he still wanted to hit her more.

Even though the Ascetic’s followers had beaten her so thoroughly and cursed her that there wasn’t a single healthy spot left on her.

‘The reason the Ascetic came back to life was probably… because of the ancient contract that was strongly binding his soul.’

Erendor needed the Ascetic.

The ancient contract. He needed the unidentified ‘things’ that were inside the Ascetic.

For overwhelmingly strong power. Strong enough to bend everything to his will…

So he could control revenge, the future, and comrades as he wished. So he wouldn’t be manipulated by others.

That’s what he had lived his life for.

He needed power that was massive and strong enough not to be used, rather than power that could be ambiguously exploited.

However, methods to obtain such strong power were mostly hidden away in ancient texts or concealed by the Central Church and Empire.

Then the Ascetic, who could find clues to that, appeared before him in such a defenseless state.

From Erendor’s perspective, it was no different from a pumpkin rolling into his lap, vines and all.

Whether to make pumpkin pie with that pumpkin or leave it to rot was up to the cook.

“To restore the Ascetic, it would be fastest to reminisce about old times. That’s why I called the Ascetic’s friends.”

“After taking him like that…! Now you’re getting impatient because you can’t use him and asking for help?”

“Why are you so angry, Inquisitor? You weren’t such a loyal dog to the Ascetic before.”

“Shut up, you bastard. He’s… truly a good person. Not someone for you to pretend to be close with.”

“Pretending to be close? Hmm, no. At least right now, the Ascetic sees me more as a friend than you.”

“…That can’t be.”

Erendor tapped the Ascetic’s shoulder.

The Ascetic’s snow-white eyes looked up at Erendor.

Those eyes felt unpleasant, as if they could see through everything about him, but it wasn’t too bad that they were looking only at him.

“Ascetic, who am I?”

He put on a manufactured smile.

“Erendor. My friend.”

It would be better to buy a veil and put it on him later.

The Inquisitor seemed quite shocked by the word ‘friend’. Her eyes widened and she was flustered.

“This is… what you must have done to the Ascetic who has no memory. The Ascetic isn’t kind enough to call a scoundrel like you a friend.”

I thought she was just a moth blinded by the Ascetic’s abilities and power, but she was even guessing his inner thoughts.

And yet she stays by his side. That woman is impressive too.

She’s dangerous.

“Really? Ascetic, that Inquisitor called me a scoundrel. What do you think as a friend?”

The Ascetic, who had been dazed, belatedly reacted to the words. Then he calmly pondered the earlier question and answered with his characteristic strange smile.

“Erendor does have quite a mischievous side. Surely it’s a misunderstanding? He’s my… friend.”

“…!”

“See?”

The Ascetic’s brow furrowed slightly, then he unexpectedly blurted out an answer.

“Of course, I don’t remember being friends. Why can’t I remember?”

“Because you’re not friends!”

“But Erendor told me he was my friend. And friendship… is more about the heart you share than the time spent together. Ah, if you think about it that way, Yelena and Kalebrin would be friends too.”

The usual expressions of Brother and Sister were missing.

And the feeling of ominously surging energy too. It seemed it would take a bit longer for his memory to return.

The cracks that had been roughly carved from his neck to the middle of his cheek were gradually shrinking and now only slightly remained on his cheek.

Perhaps his memory wouldn’t return completely until those physical cracks were filled?

Until then, it would be good to build a close relationship with the Ascetic. Who knows if they’d still be ‘friends’ after his memory returned.

“Fr, friend?”

Maybe the Ascetic with his memory restored will hate me terribly.

“…The, the Ascetic called me… Si, Sister.”

“…Did I?”

Blink.

His long, white eyelashes fluttered. The transparent marble-like eyes within became lost in thought.

And so faintly that only Erendor’s special eyes could see, the crack on his cheek filled in. The ominous energy also softened to match his body.

It would have been impossible to see without Erendor’s special eyes.

“Ah, that’s right. Sister Kalebrin.”

“Yeah…”

“And, Yelena.”

“You can drop the formality.”

“I remember that now too.”

Establishing proper forms of address seemed to have a significant impact on the former Ascetic.

Then if he called the Ascetic’s true name, the forgotten memories might return.

Erendor reached a conclusion close to the correct answer, but didn’t implement it immediately.

He disliked complicated things and hated using his brain even more, but it would be wise to establish enough intimacy and contracts with the memory-lost Ascetic so they wouldn’t be hostile, then restore his memory.

“Ascetic, didn’t you have something to ask me?”

Erendor leaned down and asked kindly with his characteristic smile to seem friendly.

“Something to ask…?”

“Yeah. The Ascetic definitely said he had something to ask me.”

The Ascetic showed a confused expression.

‘His expressions have become a bit more detailed.’

But originally he would have hidden it behind his characteristic wax doll-like smile, yet he didn’t even think to do so.

The subtle sense of disconnect from the original Ascetic was both unpleasant and welcome.

“I can’t remember. I’m sorry. Do you happen to remember what I wanted to ask?”

He had been informal with ‘friend’ but was now using formal speech.

It seemed there wasn’t much left.

“Well. I don’t remember the details either. Ah, surely… you asked me to help with the work you’re doing?”

It was a lie. But the Ascetic’s characteristic eyes that seemed to see through people’s psychology remained quiet.

“I’m sorry. I can’t remember.”

“Really? You said you’d tell me more details about that work when we met next time… That’s unfortunate.”

The Ascetic became anxious. But since this information was false, his aura or the crack on his cheek didn’t heal.

“It could be a lie, Ascetic.”

The Inquisitor whispered.

“But friends don’t lie. Because they trust me.”

His gaze changed completely.

The energy that had been surging within his body was reflected in his eyes, the windows to his soul. His snow-white, glass marble-like eyes instantly turned golden.

The Inquisitor’s hand hesitated in the air as she faced eyes like those of a golden-eyed beast.

Viola, who was still kneeling half-beaten to death, trembled and slammed her head to the ground.

Thud.

Thud thud thud thud thud thud.

Even as blood spurted from Viola’s head and stained his clothes, the Ascetic took no action.

Even though someone was self-harming right in front of him to the point where bone was visible on her forehead, as if he had no interest…

He curved his lips in a smile and looked back at him. Then he whispered in his characteristic soft, androgynous voice.

“Brother Erendor, right? You trust me.”

A heavy sense of unease and oppressive pressure settled over this place like a blanket.

The pressure one feels when climbing to high places crushed down on my entire body.

Viola buried her head in the ground and muttered while covering it with her hands.

“Glorious be thy radiance that covers him and praise shall praise praise…”

Cold sweat broke out. The Ifrit had long since fled, and the Curse Mage was trembling.

“…Of course.”

Whoosh.

Like a burning candle extinguished in one breath. The oppressive feeling disappeared as if it had never been there.

Crack.

From his cheek to below his eyes, cracks appeared in his flesh.

The Ascetic made an uncomfortable expression. Thin streams of blood flowed down from the corners of his mouth.

“Ah.”

The red blood from the Ascetic’s mouth splattered onto the pure white blanket. Erendor approached with a slight smile.

“Oh my, be more careful.”

And he skillfully began tending to him.

Glancing at them, the Inquisitor was gasping for breath while looking at the Ascetic as an object of terror, and the Curse Mage was…

Staring directly at himself with bright red eyes.

With a chillingly expressionless face like his owner.

‘I thought he was nothing special. This one’s more troublesome than the Inquisitor.’

How did he manage to travel with only such dragon-like bastards. The Ascetic’s talent was truly remarkable.

‘Just looking at his skill in putting on reins, he’s much better than the Boss.’

Of course, the Boss preferred wielding a whip to make them obey rather than putting on reins.

“I’m sorry. I’ve dirtied the blanket.”

“It’s fine. This much can be washed. Or thrown away.”

The Ascetic didn’t seem to like the bloodstains much. Well, maybe he just disliked the fact that he was bleeding.

“But still…”

Energy began surging again. He started drawing up power, perhaps intending to erase the blood.

“Whoa whoa whoa. Stop. That’s enough.”

The Ascetic held the ruined front of his clothes with a tearful expression.

“I told you it can be washed.”

“Now that I think about it, I feel like I’m causing too much trouble for one friend.”

“Ascetic, this guy is still cheap.”

“Y-yeah. Right. This guy, took the Ascetic and, and made him like this.”

But he wasn’t one to miss this opportunity.

“Then will you grant me just one favor, Ascetic?”

Normally the Ascetic would have said he’d listen first and then decide. Or he might not have brought up such a request at all. Wasn’t he such a thorough and difficult man to approach…

He’d have to thank Viola for this much.

He decided to give some healing to Viola, who had fainted and was sprawled on the floor, and looked at him.

“I’ll grant it to the best of my ability.”

“Of course. I won’t make a difficult request of a friend. We’re friends, right? Friends don’t trouble friends.”

“Friends don’t trouble friends… I see.”

He wasn’t sure if the Ascetic would retain this memory when his memories returned…

That was Erendor’s gamble.

‘If the new memories disappear completely, there’s nothing I can do. Then… I’ll have to try other methods.’

The Inquisitor and Curse Mage beside him muttered not to listen to his words, but the Ascetic paid no attention.

It was probably because his new ego was unconsciously feeling favorable toward Erendor, who had only done kind things since his first consciousness awakened.

“Could you tear off one arm?”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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