Three days ago, in the presence of Gilead, Clayton didn't reveal the fact that the Holy Grail Society had been drawn here by Joe Mani.
He did not completely trust the Council of Elders and still subconsciously considered himself a human being.
Instinctively, he thought that what was important to the Holy Grail Society should be kept at the Church.
Joe had been volunteering at the St. Melon Parish chapel. He must also be trying to save himself.
Clayton made up an excuse that he had learned of the Holy Grail Society from his acquaintances in active service. And the cult had caused a bloody tragedy at the border, which sounded like the doings of Darkins or necromancers.
It had been three months since Joe had reported the matter to the border garrison. So it's natural that the news had found its way to Sasha City.
Fortunately, the Council of Elders seemed unfriendly toward the Holy Grail Society.
"They are an obstinate band of fossils."
This was how Gilead had remarked on them. He had also taken the trouble to explain to Clayton.
The Holy Grail Society had once been a branch of the White Church. Sirilus, its founder, because his doctrinal views clashed with the Pope's, had been ousted from the Papal State of Faryamas as a heretic.
Its principles claimed that light and darkness were inseparable and that Darkins, being also Heavenly Father's creations, thereby shared in the glory of creatures of nature.
After the exile, the Holy Grail Society began to preach widely to Darkins and won over a lot of followers. Mere years later, it had established a presence on par with the Papal Court's.
Subsequently, the Papal State of Faryamas took the initiative to dismiss the Inquisition before the relationship between human beings and Darkins began to thaw.
The Holy Grail Society had been cultivated by Darkin leaders as a weapon against the Church. Now that the orthodox Papal State had proposed a peace agreement, the Holy Grail Society no longer served a purpose.
No one cared about the differences between the doctrines. Darkins' nature varied, after all. They clashed with and killed each other, even going so far as to devour one another on some occasions.
With the external pressure gone, their negligible belief could hardly bind them together.
After receiving the cold shoulder, the Holy Grail Society lapsed into insignificance in a flash.
The Holy Grail Society had previously held sway in Sasha City. However, on the heels of the fifth mayoral election, it butted heads with the White Church and was gradually expunged from the upper class. Finally, they moved away from Sasha City altogether.
Precisely then, the Council of Elders started burgeoning.
These events dated back over five decades. Gilead was so well-versed in them because he had lived as a child next door to a priest of the Holy Grail Society.
At this point in Gilead's speech, Clayton cast a glance at him.
Though unable to remember Gilead's face, at the moment, he saw no traces of age in Gilead's face.
"Five decades? How old are you now, Sir?" Clayton's tone grew more polite.
Recalling a moment, Gilead said, "I can't remember. But at that time, I was living in Saint Modred Parish, too. Only after the Urban Planning Project did I move here." A while later, his nostalgic sentiments dissipated before he warned Clayton, "Don't approach the Holy Grail Society. They are not reliable allies."
"Based on their doctrines, I initially thought they were quite popular."
Gilead smiled at Clayton's words. "They aim to shelter all Darkins and forcibly maintain peace among them. This is impossible. Do you believe that all the newborns I have encountered in the evenings are courteous? My job is to ensure order in the city."
Understanding his words, Clayton felt more admiration for him.
Clayton had also stood guard at night before. He knew how dangerous it was.
Outside of those supernatural entities, humankind was an extremely treacherous animal.
"But, would the City Hall officials and the Church's clergymen mind if someone goes missing?"
"No, we have their support."
Gilead closed the safe and then turned the dial a few random rounds.
"But mind my words, don't set foot into a sacred place. That would be seen as provocation." he turned to face Clayton and warned severely, "Presently, apart from the blessed Sword Cross and Holy Water, priests and deacons also have government-issued gun licenses. Don't entertain the idea that a Darkin is all-powerful."
Clayton offered a thoughtful nod.
After more of his questions were answered, he left the Chief Constabulary. Taking a hackney carriage at the roadside, he headed for Saint Modred Parish, planning to check on his shop.
The troubles involving the Holy Grail Society had cost him several workdays.
Even though Charlotte could deal with, except for regular patrons, common customers, as the owner, he had to concern himself with the shop's business.
The sign of 'Rusty Silver Coin' clinked and clanged at the mercy of the wind. A jacket-wrapped Clayton walked in.
Behind the counter, Charlotte's eyes sparkled at the sight of a person stepping in. Yet, seeing that it was Clayton, she relaxed.
"Mr. Bello, though these few days you have been absent, I have taken good care of the shop alone..."
She promptly covered her mouth.
This sounded like emphasizing Clayton's negligible role in running the shop...
Clayton paid no heed to this. He swept his eyes over the empty spots in the display cabinets, calculating the shop's revenue over the past few days before showing a satisfied smile.
"You've done an excellent job. By the way, have you encountered any trouble recently?"
"No, but someone delivered a letter to you."
Remembering something, Charlotte retrieved a letter from under the counter. On the envelope, the sender's details were nowhere to be seen, all but the words 'To: Joe Mani.'
"This looks like your friend's name. I told the deliveryman this, but he declined to take the letter back and hurried away."
While seeing Joe Mani last time, Charlotte had been struck by how young this friend of Clayton's was.
Clayton brought the letter to his nose, sniffing. A pungent odor of medicine issued from it. Nothing else. Even Charlotte's smell he couldn't detect.
He threw a glance at Charlotte before going to the rear of the shop to open the letter.
There was a wax stamp on the back of the envelope, outlining a Holy Grail.
Head lowered, Clayton climbed upstairs. In a shadowy corner, thick hair spilled out from his finger, whose fingernail had become bent and sharp.
Clayton hardly knew about other Darkins but found himself struggling to transform by day. Every so often, he would change part of his body to practice shape-shifting.
His nails sliced open the envelope and pinched out the letter.
"You shouldn't have resisted, for your family owes us. We grant you a month to return the inheritance and the stolen items. Or else we will destroy this place."
On the letter were sketched but a few lines. It amounted to nothing more than a note, much less a letter. While still ascending the stairs, he had finished reading it, grasping all it had to convey. By then, his face had constricted tight.
The moment he entered the workspace, Clayton crushed the papers into a ball and flung it away.
The snowy white paper ball landed on the floor and bounced twice.
Clayton's face darkened as he bared his ghastly white fangs. "Fuck! This bunch of underhanded moles, fruit-plaguing pests, doltish donkeys that never manage a straight line of plodding, mouldy-headed pieces of things, they deserve being executed by firing squad!"
He spat out a barrage of dirty words, venting his fury.
Clayton had been raised in a traditional Mansis family, from which he drew these old-fashioned phrases.
All his violent emotions resulted from a particular truth that had occurred to him.
The Holy Grail Society must have kept pestering him not because he had spent time with Joe earlier this month. They were just looking for Joe Mani and must have long since known him. That's why they had sent this letter to Rusty Silver Coin.
The antique shop had previously belonged to Joe's father, Joseph Mani.
They had mistaken Clayton for a hired hand of the Mani family.
The goddamned Holy Grail Society hadn't conducted a thorough investigation! He had long since taken over the shop. It no longer belonged to the Mani family from four years earlier!
It was Clayton's property now, yet the Holy Grail Society had threatened Joe Mani with its destruction!
This translated to a threat toward not Joe but him!
His blood boiling, his uncontrollable fury had surged to his head. He held the edge of the desk and, narrowing his fingers tightly, broke a palm-sized chunk of wood off the desk. With greater strength, he bent the chunk in half, the yellowish piece of wood splintering apart in the middle.
He straightened up and walked behind the desk, subconsciously trying to remove the revolver from the drawer and to tuck it into his belt. Only then did he recall that it remained in Joe's possession, adding another drop of fuel to his fury.
He was going to confront Joe and drive two punches into his face while at it.
Anyway, Joe had a major responsibility.
Had Joe not returned home, Clayton could never have bumped into the Holy Grail Society.