"What a sacred and beautiful posture—!"
Fischer reached out his hands towards Teest, who fluffed up again, as if intending to scratch those hands. Nol suspected that Teest's puffing up this time wasn't out of anger, but purely out of disgust.
After spotting Fischer, things became easier. They took advantage of Fischer entering the cargo hold alone and squeezed out of the vent. Maybe others weren't trustworthy, but fanatics were really useful.
Fischer immediately set up soundproofing and ignited a light in the narrow cargo hold corridor. If it weren't for Teest's entire body screaming rejection, it seemed like he really wanted to kiss Teest's paws.
After being rejected, the man flipped out a silk cushion from some unlucky individual's cargo, allowing Teest and Nol to sit on it. Fischer himself knelt in front of them, his face overflowing with devotion.
"Why are you here?" Teest screeched, dissatisfied.
"The White Demon?" Nol asked eagerly.
The new Pope made an "uh" as his gaze shifted between the two, and then chose his god. "I'm actually here for another matter…"
Teest turned away. "Answer Nol's question first."
"My apologies. Actually, both of your questions are very similar." Fischer cleared his throat and continued obediently, "The 'White Demon' is one of the reasons I came here personally—Old Duke Alva has always been collecting White Demons. White Demons are extremely rare, making it a good excuse to leave."
"Collecting White Demons?" Teest reluctantly turned towards Fischer.
He knew he was labeled as a "White Demon". However, no one had researched White Demons, and there were no credible records in academia. Teest had never met another White Demon. As a Mad Monk, he was clear about his own origins and lineage, so this additional identity held no research value for him.
Many people with naturally white hair were chased down and called "White Demons". By now, the name was more like a generic term such as "jinx", a kind of superstitious avoidance among the common folk.
If he remembered correctly, Old Duke Alva was also rumored to be a White Demon.
"Old Alva is interested in White Demons? I thought he avoided them," Teest asked curiously.
"He's still avoiding them now." Fischer sighed. "He only approached us a few years ago with the commission to collect White Demons. This is the second one we've found—if he didn't want to keep it secret, he could have easily asked the Temple of Life for help."
"As for why he's particularly interested in the White Demons, I'm not sure. The Old Duke only requested that the person be brought to him for personal verification, and then for us to…"
Here, Fischer frowned.
"…Then for us to turn the person into a Supplement Demon potion."
Damn it. Nol frowned unhappily.
Humans consuming Supplement Demon potions made from humans could safely gain some of the other person's attributes and abilities. It was like a greatly weakened version of [Fallen Death], which they had witnessed the effects of on the Lord of Whitebird City.
The Lord of Whitebird City sought power. Old Duke Alva was too old to be pursuing power; he was likely after longevity—based on Teest's personal experience, the physical recovery abilities of a White Demon far exceeded those of normal people.
Honestly, Nol didn't have much affection for Old Duke Alva. Although the Alva Merchant Group had an excellent reputation and valued credibility, just the fact that they insisted on doing business with the Church meant they couldn't be considered "good".
"Ha, why am I not surprised?" Teest said sarcastically. "For a few more days of life, those rich old bags will do anything. Lucky for me, Old Alva didn't have so many thoughts when I was young."
"So, you came here to escort the entire process and make the potion?" Nol continued to ask patiently.
If that was the case, even if the client was Old Duke Alva, the Eternal Church's service attitude seemed too good.
Fischer glanced cautiously at Teest, bowing his head. "No, I hoped to make contact with the 'blood potion' source as soon as possible."
Ah, this matter.
When Fischer became the Pope of the Eternal Church, Nol was still uneasy, and together with Teest, they drafted—more accurately, he wrote the content, and Teest just copied it—a detailed task list.
After all, Fischer wasn't like Painter. He was a genuine cultist with moral standards lower than the rats in the sewers of Grape Collar. Letting him play freely was something Nol couldn't rest easy about.
The specifics were similar to what Nol had planned: stop living sacrifices and Supplement Demon manufacturing, minimize Eternalist activities as much as possible, and keep them from causing trouble.
He also mentioned the peculiar "Supplement Demon Potion" and "Age Reversion Blood Potion", hoping that Fischer would have the time to investigate them.
Pope Fischer was very enthusiastic, but the problem was…
"Haven't we asked you to stop such behavior?" Nol extended his short, thick dragon claws, trying to massage his temples.
Great, we agreed to be honest, and the Eternal Church turns around and deals in Supplement Demons and White Demons.
Fischer looked innocent. "Huh? My God only requested the cancellation of living sacrifices and the making of Supplement Demons. He didn't forbid gray market trades, nor did He say we couldn't care for existing Supplement Demons."
I knew it. If you don't mention it, it won't be managed! Nol screamed silently in his heart.
If only Fischer and Painter could average out their moral standards and reliability. Does the world need to be this cruel? It seemed a letter was far from enough. He needed to write a complete "Penal Code" for Pope Fischer.
"Forget it… What does this have to do with your source of the 'Age Reversion Blood Potion'?" Nol said weakly.
Fischer's expression became serious, and he looked at Teest. The latter showed him his sharp claws. "Just answer or I'll claw out your eyeballs."
"Yes." Fischer sighed. "After I became the Pope, I clarified the production methods of those potions."
"The 'Supplement Demon Potion' is easy to obtain. As long as the Pope personally prays, the Eternal Son will bestow the essence in the sacrificial silver basin. This essence cannot be used directly; it must be mixed into the 'Blood Potion' in a 100:1 ratio to become the real 'Supplement Demon Potion'."
"For 'Time Reversion', the 'Blood Potion' needs to be simmered for over twelve hours. For 'Age Reversion', the 'Blood Potion' needs to be diluted and mixed with the dead's blood in a 1:1 ratio."
"The previous Pope would obtain the 'Blood Potion' during oracles, but the last oracle sacrifice… Well, you know. Now the Church no longer has 'Blood Potion' in stock. Without samples, investigation is impossible."
In other words, at the end of the day, the Eternal Son, no, Star Stealer Sol only provided the church with two kinds of ingredients—a large supply of "essence" and the "Blood Potion" given in a particularly stingy manner.
Those strange potions of the Eternal Church were mixed from these substances. Nol had only tasted two kinds of reversion potions. So far, the more "Blood Potion", the worse the taste.
Nol tried to organize the information. "Does Duke Alva have a 'Blood Potion' in his hand?"
"Yes. Initially, to show sincerity, the Church stored some ingredients at the Alva's, ensuring they would only be used on Duke Alva… This time, through the 'White Demon', I had the opportunity to access them."
Fischer responded obediently.
"Take us to see the White Demon," Nol said.
"Yeah, I'm curious. I haven't seen 'one of my kind' yet." Teest stood behind Noll.
Fischer stood up and bowed. "Please follow me."
The cargo hold was upgraded by the Eternal Church, with curses interwoven, more exaggerated than a second-tier city bank vault. Fischer led the way, clearing one troublesome seal after another. Finally, they reached the depths of the dark cabin.
The lights inside the room lit up the moment the door opened, revealing the interior details clearly.
The cargo room was very small, less than nine square meters.
There was no peculiar smell in the room. One corner had bread, dried fruits, and clear water, and the opposite corner had a chamber pot engraved with cleansing magic. The center of the room was piled with burlap and straw. The environment wasn't bad, but not good either. If anything, Nol thought it resembled "a barely qualified zoo cage".
The moment Fischer stepped into the room, a figure pressed into the corner.
It was a boy, looking about thirteen or fourteen. He was relatively clean, with long hair the same color as Teest's. The difference was in his light blue eyes, reminiscent of glaciers under the sun.
He wore a white cloth robe. In a daze, Nol thought he saw the young Teest in the Church's dungeon.
The boy's hands and feet were bound with magic chains, with very strong magical fluctuations. Considering the vast sea outside, the boy's chance of escape was absolutely zero.
Even so, there were fresh blood marks on his wrists and ankles—he hadn't given up on escaping.
Nol felt suffocated and, without thinking for half a second, bit Fischer's heel. Fischer instinctively wanted to retaliate, but quickly remembered this person's identity, so he could only freeze in place.
Teest elegantly entered the room, curiously looking at the boy, his big tail spreading orange firelight.
The boy's wary gaze softened when it shifted to Teest. This softness lasted only a moment before his hostile gaze returned to Fischer.
"Let him go." Nol flew into the air, whispering to Fischer. "As for the 'Blood Potion', we can think of other ways—if you dare to do this again, the Eternal Church will have to change its Pope, again."
Only then did the boy notice the flying little black dragon. His eyes lit up instantly.
"You misunderstand me." Fischer sighed. "For most people, 'White Demons' are no different from monsters, only considered humanoid monsters. And we need to maintain a good relationship with Duke Alva—even in hiding, the Church cannot do nothing."
Humanoid monster?
Do you not know that your God was also once a "humanoid monster"? Nol instinctively looked at Teest, almost forgetting what he wanted to say.
Teest slowly approached the boy, circling around his bare feet. The boy watched him for a while, eventually unable to resist the temptation, reaching out to touch the soft cat.
Teest didn't dodge but innocently stayed in place, meowing softly.
Fischer: "?"
Nol: "...???"
Taking the opportunity, the boy picked up the big cat, retreating back into the corner with the wariness of a cat thief. Teest, unusually, didn't struggle but instead stuck out his tongue, licking the fresh blood on the boy's wrist.
After licking, a very un-cat-like contemplative expression appeared on the cat's face.
[What's wrong with you?] Nol couldn't help but poke Teest in his mind.
[Just curious. I wanted to analyze his blood.] Teest blinked. [I would bite this kid directly, but you definitely wouldn't be happy, right?]
Indeed, Nol thought. [Now you've got his blood.]
[This kid and I have a bit of a kinship.] Teest said, [But it's very distant, so distant it's negligible. He has a lot of calluses on his hands from manual labor, so he's probably not a noble.]
[Honey, what do you plan to do now?]
As they silently conversed, the wounds on the boy's wrists began to fade, showing signs of slow healing. The boy seemed to regard the cat as some sort of comfort, holding Teest tightly while still warily glaring at Fischer.
Knowing escape was hopeless, he neither cursed nor pleaded, just vigilantly watched the other, like a young animal at the end of its rope.
A rare White Demon.
Using this kid to connect with the Old Duke seemed like a ready-made path. But Nol would rather kick this path over—no, wait…
"You can also continue this transaction." Nol's bright blue eyes turned to Fischer. "After all, the Old Duke won't act directly. He still needs to inspect the goods, doesn't he?"
Fischer: "Yes. You mean—"
Nol extended his somewhat chubby dragon claw, pointed at Fischer, then at the boy.
"You. Go. Replace him," he said emphatically. "The Pope's illusion magic shouldn't be easily seen through by ordinary people. Once you see the Old Duke, everything will be easy to talk about."
Teest in the boy's arms, narrowed his eyes, and wagged his tail.
Fischer was stunned. "I still need to go out. The people outside will confirm it."
As he spoke, the little black dragon changed appearance. The breeze swirled, turning dragon horns into floating black hair, wings into a black cloak wrapping around the body. Nol opened his blue eyes and gently landed on his feet.
"Those guys can't see through my illusion magic even more."
Nol snapped his fingers, and his black robe transformed into the same clothes as Fischer. "I'm taking this child away. Please, dutifully perform your mission here, Mr. Pope—you should be grateful. At least the environment here isn't too bad."
Fischer's mouth opened and closed, finally bowing respectfully. "Yes. Your will is my will."
Saying this, he stepped forward, surrounded by strong magical fluctuations. By the time he reached the boy, he had already completely transformed into the appearance of a white-haired boy.
Then, Fischer's fingers swept over the chains. The magic chains disappeared and reappeared on Fischer's own wrists.
After doing all this, he solemnly bowed to Teest.
Teest twitched his ears and leaped from the boy's arms into Nol's embrace. Purring sounds filled the cramped room.
The boy was still dazed in the corner. Everything in front of him was too magical, almost stopping his brain. He didn't show joy but instead shrank tighter into the corner.
"Come with me." Nol smiled at the boy. "I'll take you out of here."
"Why?" the boy asked warily, his voice a bit hoarse. "You know what I am… How do I know you won't sell me again?"
[Because our great God of Creation is a good-hearted person. He's extremely softhearted and can't bear to see poor kids suffering in the Eternal Church.]
Teest nestled in Nol's embrace, his claws firmly clinging to the robe fabric. He mimicked squeezing his throat in thought, sounding not too pleased. [Too bad you weren't this dashing when you saved me back then.]
Nol took a breath, finally managing to bury his fingers in the fluffy soft white fur. He vigorously rubbed his knight several times before smiling and continuing.
"Because I like silver-white hair. The person I like has this hair color. You remind me of him." Nol said, "It's your choice to leave or stay, child. If you think it's better to stay, you can stay here."
The heavy cat in his arms stiffened. Teest didn't respond and just purred louder. The boy looked at the cat purring crazily in the other's embrace and then at the unusually calm Fischer. He then hesitatingly stood up. He bit his lip and walked towards Nol.
"Please take me away from this place." He lowered his head. "I'll be your servant, groom, anything—just take me away from here—"
Nol extended a hand, placing it on the boy's head. Accompanied by magical fluctuations, his figure disappeared within the room.
"Follow me closely," he said to the boy's position.
Subsequently, "Pope Fischer", holding a snow-white big cat, majestically left the place.
During their departure, the Eternalists cast puzzled glances at the cat. However, no one dared to ask, only listening to the purring sound approaching from afar, then fading away.
...
"Remarkable."
Mentor locked the room's door, his tone laced with a hint of jest. "You two leave for a few hours and come back with a child."
At the edge of the dining table, the White Demon boy devoured the leftovers. According to the boy, he was a commoner named Aesop, without a surname. Neither his parents nor ancestors had "White Demon" or white-haired lineage.
So right after his birth, his parents abandoned him due to superstitions. After that, he survived on the streets under the dirty label of "Gray Hair" until the Eternal Church captured him.
A typical experience. Nol didn't expect to uncover any clues from a street child. But since the kid was somewhat related to Teest, he could bring him back to the Lost Tower—regardless of the White Demon's destructive power, this could be regarded as a kind of protection.
And…
Nol shook his newly restored dragon wings, his round eyes turning to the gloomy Golden Sword Billy.
Old Duke Alva had been looking for White Demons for a long time, and as one of the Duke's confidants, Billy certainly knew. Before approaching the Duke, they could learn more about the "White Demon".
But before he could speak, Golden Sword Billy took the initiative.
"This kid is a White Demon?"
His gaze rested on the boy's slowly healing wrists. "…It must be the Eternal Church's doing. How did you get him out?!"
The author has something to say:
After so many chapters, Nol finally managed to pet the cat.
Now we're just waiting for Teest to pet the dragon (.
Kinky Thoughts:
The title of this chapter is an idiom: steal the beams and replace the pillars with rotten timbers (偷梁换柱), which comes from the twenty-fifth tactic of the Thirty-Six Strategies in the Art of War.
It refers to substituting one thing for another (usually with an inferior product), while keeping the appearance unchanged.