Bernard was already waiting for them at the inn, his cup empty and slight frustration visible on his face.

  "What took you so long?" He asked, but his expression softened when he noticed Deatt's face.

  Deatt tried to ignore it, but he felt like an idiot.

  "Sorry, got a bit sidetracked. I am here now, so let's hear it."

  Berry motioned to bring drinks for them, but Deatt stopped him.

  "I think I had enough to drink for a few days at least."

  "Alright. To the matter at hand." Bernard turned to them. "As you have guessed before, the church immediately denied my request."

  Deatt simply nodded. Asking a church to release a heretic was foolish by itself, let alone asking for a heretic they valued so greatly.

  "I managed to get the lord on my side, along with most of the nobles left in the city. They agreed to halt their cooperation with the church." Bernard sighed and rubbed his temple. "The church has its own problems from what I have heard. It almost seems like their own rations came...spoiled."

  "Great timing," Deatt said. "Must have made them a lot more agreeable, don't you think?"

  "It did, for the most part. There is still one hurdle we will have to overcome if we want Gnenmo to come with us, but the church won't be a problem anymore."

  "What is that?"

  "He will have to agree."

  "What? You mean he is there willingly?" Evelynn asked.

  "Not only willingly, it seems that all the inmates got moved per his request."

  That would complicate things. Gnenmo's stance on the matter is something that Deatt never took into consideration. He had thought that he was just a prisoner.

  "So how do we go about that?" Nido brushed his chin thoughtfully.

  "Easy," Bernard answered. "I will have to convince him."

  "You?" Deatt could not help but laugh. "The Bernard Ryad himself, whisperer of dogshit."

  "That, is exactly why." Bernard moved in his seat, trying to calm himself. Then he pointed an angry finger at Deatt. "This attitude of yours. Arrogant all the way to your boots. Like now with poisoning food to the church! I don't approve of your methods."

  "The man himself doesn't approve, does he?" Deatt moved his hands in a mocking gesture, then he slammed his palms on the table. "I don't have a sliver of interest in your approval. Hate me and my methods all you want. I get results Berry."

  "Yeah. Like rotting in a prison for five years, right? What a fucking result!" Berry stood up from his chair, glaring at Deatt from his height. The build he acquired throughout the years was menacing in the inn's light. "Why did you come to ask for me then? If you are so competent?"

  "Because I needed some little shit to point me in the right direction. Like a side-post." Deatt replied standing to meet Bernard.

  But he could not, not really. Berry used to have much the same constitution as Deatt. Both were thin, long-boned and scrawny. While Deatt had grown to be a lithe and flexible man and was taller and stronger than most, Berry grew much more. He was about a head taller than Deatt and his build was formidable for a human. Even then, Deatt felt no fear.

  Bernard looked at him for a little while, before scoffing and sitting back down.

  "If you fuck it up, don't complain to me." Berry's voice calmed.

  "I won't need to," Deatt replied. Then he turned around and walked out the door. His mind swirling with curses. It was always like this. Berry would get some genius honorable idea and complicate things as much as he could. Leaving Deatt to sweat and put the situation back together.

  Nido was speechless from the quick conflict. Blinking furiously, he hoped that he would suddenly understand what transpired. Meanwhile, Evelynn had her eyebrow raised at Bernard.

  "You didn't really plan to go, did you?" she asked, squinting her eyes in suspicion.

  "Deatt works best under pressure. At least I think so." Bernard answered. "So, no. I didn't entertain that idea."

  "You are cheeky. Deatt will be angry once he realizes that."

  "He knew it before he walked out." Bernard smiled. "Poor bastard just had to have some drive is all. He might not seem like it sometimes, but he is smart."

  "I know he is," Evelynn replied, looking at the closed doors.

  Walking through the square, Deatt was feeling much more energetic. The light scuffle finally allowed him to put his mind to the task at hand.

  Deatt suspected that Gnenmo would be a tough nut to crack. But he believed his own words over Berry's any day.

  The righteous holier than thou attitude of his could sway a young priest maybe, but not an old one, and definitely not one as shady as Gnenmo.

  No, it would be better to forget Gnenmo was a priest altogether, one did not become a heretic for nothing, and treat him differently.

  So how should Deatt approach this?

  Well, if one was willing to sacrifice their whole life for the sake of research, it would probably be best to appeal to his curiosity.

  Without a clear image or plan of how he was to persuade Gnenmo, Deatt made his way to the cathedral.

  Some priest led him through the beautiful cathedral, as they were already expecting him. Even amidst the chaos of today's world, the holy structure was beautiful. The high ceiling was adorned with images of saints and legends, the columns spread into long arches at their tops and the windows somehow had their glass painted and put into complex pictures.

  Other than that, the feeling Deatt had of the place was gentle and comforting. As if the rays of light coming from the windows caught him in a warm embrace.

  Deatt would have problems leaving such a magnificent and comfortable place himself.

  After soaking in enough of the atmosphere and comforting himself with the thought that he would have to buy a cathedral for himself someday, he continued.

  There was just one thing he had feared walking through the holy place, the two idiots he met the day prior. If they were to meet him, he dreaded the possibilities.

  Thankfully, the road to Gnenmo was paved with no idiots. Even the priest who led him to the huge wooden doors decided to quickly leave before Deatt managed to enter the room.

  Instead of a hidden roam, or some underground guarded cellar, he was in the bishop's quarters. The room had been surprisingly similar to the one back in the prison, the lavish bed, armchair, and even the big mirror were there. Positioned in much the same way they had always been.

  Suddenly, Deatt noticed a weird system to the placement. The armchair was facing right between the mirror and the table, the bed had been made and tucked, the table clearly visible through the mirror from it.

  Gnenmo himself looked exactly as Deatt had envisioned him.

  An old-looking man, with small glasses, a long grey beard with a giant nose poking through it, and a bald, rather shiny, head. He wore the clothes of the pious. A priestly white hood with golden rims, and symbols of the one god.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  He was comfortably sitting in his armchair, reading from a book that was obviously written by his own hand. The letters flowing and reshaping themselves throughout the page.

  His grey old eyes turned to Deatt from the book, a sparkle of interest playing through them.

  "I had been told that the Bellringer was to be bigger." his old, somewhat high-pitched voice resounded from behind the pages.

  "Berry...Bernard could not make it. I am here to negotiate in his stead." Deatt replied, walking further into the room. "My name is Deatt, and I am the one sent to fetch you to Zenwall."

  "To fetch me? You speak as if I am a tool." Gnenmo replied, turning a page. "I am amidst a very important research, holy work if you will. It is highly unfortunate timing for you."

  "This research, does it pertain to the turned perhaps?" Deatt asked, sitting on the tidied table.

  "An interesting way to call them, but yes," Gnenmo answered. His brow twitched when he glanced at Deatt. "And as such, the church is the perfect environment for me."

  "True. But the research must be costly, no? Especially here, in a slowly falling city. Not even mentioning the limitations that must be placed on you, for religious purposes."

  Gnenmo's hands stopped turning the page, his gaze completely resting on Deatt.

  "And what limitations you might be thinking about?"

  "Let's just say that my...employer," the word soured Deatt's mouth as he said it. "He has a different kind of means than the church. Ones that will enable you to not only continue with your research but will ultimately speed up your process two-fold."

  "So, theoretically of course, if I had need of a...live subject. That wouldn't pose a problem?"

  Deatt was not surprised by the proposition. Truthfully, he was betting on it. Although it felt wrong, experimenting on live subjects had been the one argument that he had. No matter how weirdly the church cooperated with the heretic, they must have drawn the line somewhere.

  "My employer likes to say. A man has to have his ways."

  The heretical priest closed his books and moved his hand around his beard, in thought.

  "A compelling argument. But unbased. How am I to know that you won't simply lie to my face? Only to abuse my talent and research for personal gain?" He asked, meanwhile thoroughly examining Deatt. He might have just imagined it, but he felt the priest's gaze linger on his bitten heel for a few long moments.

  "I can't speak for my employer's motives, other than he seems keen on saving the world from falling to pieces."

  "I had asked for yours," Gnenmo said, keeping his eyes locked on his. As if searching Deatt's eyes for a hint of deceit.

  "I want you to come for my personal gain." Deatt said. "Who else but you might tell me just what this curse is?"

  A smile appeared on Gnenmo's face as he put the book down.

  "Honest and right. None could tell you as much as I, beginning with the fact that this is no curse."

  "Not a curse?" Deatt asked with surprise. It never truly fit into the term, but what else could it be? Evelynn was much more knowledgeable in all things magic than Deatt, and she seemed fairly sure. The evil malevolence was there, and the lack of goal was there as well. The needless suffering and the nature of the affliction always fit, even if it might have been an outlier in some characteristics.

  And yet, Deatt had no other choice but to believe Gnenmo. The man was so sure of his statement, it left no room for doubt.

  "The affliction you speak of has many similar symptoms to a curse. Namely one, the headless horror. That is a curse invented by the Blackwood witch covenant in the glory days of the Inquisition. It caused the victims to ceaselessly attack people and consume human flesh. Thankfully, that curse has been eradicated from our world since then. Mostly."

  "That sounds exactly like this one. How can you be so sure that it's not?"

  "Because, the turned as you call them, are not mindless. Even if they may seem that way. The common variety might seem like hollow monsters thirsty for blood, and I believe they are to a certain extent, but according to my theory, there is a possibility of a person resisting the urge and remaining sane, whilst reaping the rewards of the affliction."

  "What rewards?" Deatt asked, a hint of frustration escaping his acted calmness.

  In his sober opinion, there were no rewards to reap. While Gnenmo was obviously right in his other assumptions, Deatt felt anger rise inside him while listening to someone describing his condition so woefully. There were special turned, Deatt had the displeasure of meeting one himself, but he would never describe them as ones reaping a reward.

  "Hard to say. That is why I need live subjects, you see?" Gnenmo answered.

  It was obvious that he knew at least some of what he spoke of. But he was not willing to part with the information yet. That Deatt understood. Gnenmo obviously had experience in barter, it was probably the reason that he had his standing in the church still.

  "Live subjects will be available to you. I can promise that much. Along with any laboratory equipment you might require." Deatt summarized. He believed his hand was good enough already. Whatever the wicked priest might have required was offered to him. Yet, the priest remained unconvinced.

  "You have told me of what your employer has to offer, but what about yourself? You do not seem the kind of person, who would blindly follow directives. You have your own stake in this, do you not?" Gnenmo asked while pacing his room. He was looking about the numerous items of his, almost as if making a mental note of where each was.

  "I do. For one, I want to learn as much about the curse... affliction as possible. It became one of a few interests of mine." Deatt replied, then he put on a glove. Reaching into his chest pocket, he took out a dagger. "I also hope to learn the secrets of this."

  "Pff," Gnenmo grunted. "Nothing but a foolish thought of mine. I will tell you that it won't be of any use to you. It was meant to trap the curses, but instead, it simply passes them to the wielder. And although I have made a point of the affliction being different than a curse, I do believe it would work much the same way." Gnenmo said.

  "So if I cut a turned with this..."

  "You will most likely become one of them, or at least inherit the condition partly."

  "Thanks for the heads up," Deatt said and headed to the door.

  "Where are you going?" Gnenmo asked, stopping Deatt.

  "I told you what we have to offer, even what I want out of this. I don't see what else is there to say."

  Deatt turned to leave, but the door suddenly closed and locked, when he looked over the shoulder at Gnenmo, he noticed the priest had his arm held out.

  "A mage as well? Now that is rare for a priest."

  "When one spends so much time working with curses, one has to explore his options of defenses." Gnenmo put his hands behind his back, watching Deatt closely. "Why don't we get to the real point of your visit? Hm?"

  "What are you thinking about, old man?" Deatt felt apprehension at the priest's words. They were targeted and there was only one thing that came to his mind.

  "Why don't you tell me about your experiences? Share your story with me. You, the one that bears the mark of the beast."