NOVEL NEXT Chapter 194: Enter Notchra
Arc 3, Chapter 194—Enter Notchra.
.
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My, my, my~
The world sure had changed since the last time he walked across its blood-soaked veins.
Fufufufufu~
In a priestly robe with 2 wooden rosaries over his neck and another wrapped around his right hand, stood a man who looked more troublesome than Holy. He wore sandals that seemed not to pick up the first, as he transverse through a vast plain of vines—vines the size of trees, wrapped and coiled all over the ground wherever he walked.
These vines had hearts of their own, as they throbbed and heated rhythmically to their own beat. Father Notchra took out a thin cigarette, blowing out a whiff of smoke with a distant smile on his lips.
"How terrible…" he began, a little annoyed. "To think you're all trying to soil my good robe after all the efforts I put in to look this good."
Notchra seemed to be talking to himself… but that was if you ignore the hundreds and thousands of vampires that were slowly turning into ashes before his eyes. But these aren't your typical weaker vampires, but ones many considered to be middle-tier or high-tier in strength. And yet, Father Notchra dealt with so many of them with ease.
"How annoying…" he grumbled. "They come and go, too desperate for my little parcel."
Father Notchra shrugged, blowing out another whiff of smoke before striding through the peculiar Blood Line realm he found himself in. Here the skies were colored of dried wine, and the air tasted like old secrets waiting to be unraveled.
Can you tell? He was on enemy territory… to be precise, the outside of a Territory they called the Red Grounds.
You won't find any structures built above the surface here, as the enemy had done everything Ground.
The vines go deeper than they look, and provide natural habitats for the enemy. It's a pity that to get to where he needed to as soon as possible, he could only pass through the enemy's territory.
Sure, the Church had other safer ways of moving, but should he pick those options, he'd miss the deadline for sending off the Parcel.
… Blowing out another Whiff of smoke, Father Notchra knew that this must not happen.
The Holy One, the Pope himself, had given orders stating the importance of the Parcel reaching on time. This parcel was one of their keys to the upcoming Crusade. And even a day's deal already puts them at a disadvantage.
That's why they assigned this matter to him—Father Notchra—a man so strong they knew he would have no issues dealing with all dangers that came along with ensuring the parcel arrived on time.
Fufufufu~
To be a Priest appointed by the church, meant your status was higher than the Order Heads and many other faction heads.
Even in terms of strength, he could defeat 50 Order heads with ease. When you hear the people of the Order or the church call someone a PRIEST, you must understand that the gap between you and such persons was like day and night. Whether it's ROUD, Gaara, Order Head Zen, they were all children in the face of sometime like Notchra.
"How troublesome…" Notchra looked at the soles of his sandals that accidentally caught a spec of ash on them. And with a slight blow from his mouth, a whirlwind formed around him, cleaning the world of his shoes and carrying him further and further away, out of the lands called the Red Grounds.
The whirlwind started off at a reasonable speed, but soon moved so fast it didn't even leave afterimages of itself behind. It was funny that other Power vampires emerged from Ground during his travels, but Notchra wasn't bothered.
….
—4 hours later, Father Notchra's boots echoed across a cobblestone. He had long left the Red Grounds, where he moved along shared lands (lands inhabited by passing vampires and humans).
After leaving shared lands, he arrived at his Final Destination, the drop off point for the parcel.
The parcel was quite a tempting little thing to look at. And it seemed the enemy was also aware of its potential, which led to him getting attacked more often than expected… Whatever was in the parcel, they wanted it badly…
Very briefly, Notchra took out the parcel to observe its condition. It was small, wrapped in waxed linen and bound with a ribbon that shimmered with familiar runes. The mysterious contents of the parcel pulsed faintly, as if alive. Every so often, the ribbon twitched, as though something inside tried to claw its way free.
What are you trying to do, little guy? Placing the parcel back into his clothes, it shook vigorously as if in protest.
{ District 010. }
It's been quite a while since he visited. The District's gates were wrought iron, twisted into the shapes of weeping angels. Beyond it, the district sprawled in a labyrinth of narrow alleys and crooked streets.
The air was thick with the scent of power and authority, and the many Stoney structures were laid out in a circular formation that made the eyes focus to the grandest and tallest building at the center of the District.
It was like walking into a fantasy world. The street roads, through crooked, spiraled around and around, all leading to the center building. All other structures were built on these spiralling roads.
"My, my, my… it's been far too long." Notchra mused.
District 010 was a place of peculiar rules.
Street vendors hawked charms and talismans, their faces hidden behind porcelain masks. Children played hopscotch with bones, their laughter echoing strangely in the gloom.
Father Notchra's destination was a small Eatery, tucked between a butcher's shop and a bookbinder's.
Its doors were carved with the runes of saints and its bell tower leaned at an impossible angle. He pushed open the door, and the scent of booze, simplicity, and dust washed over him.
Inside, candles flickered in the gloom, casting long shadows on the stone walls. Looking around, he spotted an open table and calmly took his seat.
Because of the importance of this matter, there was no one in sight drinking today… except for an old man in a threadbare uniform, with hair silvered with age and eyes sharp as razors.
"Notchra," the old man called out with a raspy voice. "I wondered when you'd come crawling back to my doorstep."
Father Notchra smiled, a thin curve of lips. "You know I never crawl, old friend."
The old man was Retired Father Marius.
That's right, people retire too in the Order. But when they retire, they are sent to populate these many districts, doing other assignments instead. For now, Old Marius focused on Researching specific matters the Order assigned to him. He was now a full fledged inventor and researcher.
Bhahahhaahahaha~
Marius laughed with a sound that echoed off the vaulted ceiling. "I was told you'd be seeing me today with a little gift… so come on, where is it then?"
Notchra set the parcel on the table, his gloved hands lingering on its ribbon, but he didn't unseal it. "A gift from the Church, old friend... Or a curse, depending on who you ask."
Marius eyed the parcel in amusement. "How many tried to pry it from your hands?"
Notchra's smile widened, showing a flash of white teeth. "Enough to make the journey interesting."
"Hmmm…" Marius circled the parcel, his fingers tracing the runes on the ribbon. "It's humming. That's never a good sign."
"Nothing in this world hums for free," Notchra replied. He glanced at the stained-glass windows, where scenes of martyrdom played out in fractured light. "You still keep the old ways."
Marius shrugged. "The new ways don't work here. Not in 010."
There was a silence, thick with unspoken memories. Outside, the wind howled, rattling the Eatery's bones.
"I'll be staying a while. There is a child I've been assigned to assess."
"Oh?" Marius raised an eyebrow. "If the Pope himself calls you out for this child, then there's something more to him, no?"
"Perhaps." Notchra replied faintly.
For the kid's sake, it better be worth it!!... That being said, he was also going there to see his beloved Disciple. It's been ages since he last saw the little devil.
Marius looked at him, a shadow passing over his face. "You always did have a soft spot for that girl "
Notchra chuckled, the sound low and rough. "When she first came to me, she was lost… Lost causes are the only ones I've found myself intrigued by."
"You were always weird like that."
The two men stood in silence, the parcel between them, pulsing gently.
What an odd little thing… but it seemed the enemy desired it greatly. So how could they give it so easily to them?
…
After a hearty meal and booze, Notchra parted ways with his old friend, completing his primary mission.
So now, it was time to focus on the only thing left—watching over the Brat that caught the Church's eye!