Chapter 4: Roland’s Ingenious Gear

The Ulcerous Madonna—a name that sounded ominous from the very first syllable. It was the kind of title that instantly marked one as no friend to goodness.

Roland happened to know this name. He had come across it while sorting through his late father’s belongings, found within a diary chronicling his father’s youthful adventures. The name belonged to an evil deity whose dominion was tied to plague and disease.

What had once been an incomplete clue now fell into place like the final piece of a puzzle. Yet, deeper doubts arose alongside this realization.

The title was scarcely mentioned in the present day. Even Roland’s father, old Lancelot, had only learned of it during a military commission to cleanse a demon stronghold, discovering the name and its lore from a mural there. The old man had not thought much of it, casually jotting down the obscure tidbit in his journal.

The reason was simple: the great being known as the Ulcerous Madonna had been personally slain by the demon lord during a war against the demon king that had spanned nearly a millennium. The divine realm had collapsed, and with it all authority, divinity, and divine power were absorbed as sustenance by the demon lord’s might.

The mural depicted the tale of a demon king slaying a god.

That war had ended three centuries ago. Now, both the demon king who once united scattered demon clans and nearly eradicated humanity, and the hero who had defeated him, had become figures of legend. Fear and valor had transformed into tales shared over meals and into songs sung by bards—stories whose truth was impossible to verify.

Clearly, no fanatical cultist would worship a deity long dead for centuries, since a dead god could no longer grant blessings or power. To worship such a god was futile, bringing nothing but having one’s likeness featured on the wanted lists of the Imperial Inspection Bureau, the military, and the Holy Church.

So who were these people hunting Kalia, muttering the name of the Ulcerous Madonna? What did they want? And why was the pendant so important to them?

“Wait, I think I forgot something!” Roland suddenly recalled something while piecing the clues together. He pulled a commission order from the inner pocket of his clothing.

The client was Colonel Odmeyer, commander of the Ryscan City Defense Forces. The order was simple: investigate rumors of the Ulcerous Madonna and gather any valuable leads.

The reward was 500 Imperial Golden Eagles—equivalent to ten years’ wages for an ordinary dockworker.

Roland had glimpsed this commission this morning as he passed by the Adventurers’ Guild. Knowing the legend behind the name, he had planned to finish his usual training, then go home to organize the information and write a report to submit.

But Kalia’s interruption had made him forget.

Fortunately, she had mentioned the Ulcerous Madonna’s name, otherwise he might have missed this commission altogether.

Roland had some impression of Colonel Odmeyer—not much direct contact, but from others’ opinions and his own intuition, he could sum the man up in one phrase: a righteous man, a true soldier.

Clearly, Odmeyer had sensed something, or had uncovered some clue or anomaly. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be asking about a dead evil god known only to the Continental Historical Society or a select few scholars.

Perhaps…

“Hey, are you okay?” Kalia raised her elbow and lightly bumped Roland’s side.

“I’m fine, just thinking.”

Seeing Roland come back to himself, Kalia asked, “So, have you decided what to do next?”

“Do you want the truth?”

“Yeah.”

“The best way is for you to just throw away that damned pendant. Then I think they won’t bother you anymore.”

“No way!”

Kalia suddenly clutched the bright silver pendant hanging over her chest.

Though she didn’t know what those men in black wanted with the pendant, it was the first time the old lady had ever asked her for anything.

Without her, Kalia would never have survived to this age.

Though her solitary training in the forest was lonely, she had a teacher for the first fifteen years of her life. The old woman had raised her from a starving orphan, taught her magic, and kept her from wreaking havoc when the witch’s awakening came at sixteen.

She had never asked for anything in return, nurturing and caring for her like a mother.

But there was one repeated warning that always grated on Kalia—if she ever caused trouble in the future, she was never to mention her teacher’s name.

Damn it, how could she possibly cause trouble?!

Still, if she were to mess up what the old lady had entrusted her with...

Thinking of that, Kalia’s eyes hardened with resolve.

What was once a bit silly and relaxed in her demeanor now took on the aura of the stereotypical witch.

Seeing Kalia’s firm stance, Roland shrugged, “Then there’s only the second plan.”

“If I’m right, they found you not because their tracking magic is all that great.”

“Maybe they just figured out how to locate the pendant.”

“Let’s get out of here. I think those two guys have already left.”

Kalia hesitated, “But if we leave the shadows, they’ll notice. You said they can locate me through this pendant.”

“No worries. Trust me on this. Let’s deactivate your innate spell.”

After some hesitation, Kalia chose to trust Roland and followed him out of their hiding place in the shadows.

The moment they stepped into the open, Roland’s figure vanished—along with all magical traces, life signs, and even his physical form.

Kalia: “!!!”

What? How could he just disappear like that?

She panicked, looking around wildly for any sign of him.

All she saw were broken wooden planks from the cabin and rain dripping from her soaked hair.

Though they hadn’t known each other long, Kalia didn’t want anything to happen to this new acquaintance. After all, it was her fault he had gotten into danger.

“Don’t move.”

A familiar voice sounded. Kalia turned to look, but saw nothing but a pit gouged out by an ice spear, scattered clumps of mud, and rain-formed sludge.

Still, she obeyed, standing still and shrinking her neck slightly.

The next moment, she felt a tug on her shoulder, pulling her to one side.

Then she realized why Roland had disappeared.

Because now she was wearing a smoke-gray suede cloak identical to his.

Though oversized, with the hem trailing in the mud, it didn’t matter.

The instant the cloak was draped over her, she instinctively activated her magic, and, like Roland, she vanished from sight.

“This is... runed magical equipment! You have such a thing!?”

“Shh, keep your voice down. This cloak can’t block sound.”

Roland reminded her in time, “It can’t block revealing spells either, so don’t make a sound. As long as you stay quiet and wrap yourself in the cloak, you’re invisible.”

“Next, don’t make a sound.”