"Naser! Are you abandoning the favor of the gods?"
The sunlight streamed through the cracks in the window, casting its warmth on the edge of the bed. Adam awoke from his slumber, a little later than usual.
The events of the previous night still lingered in his mind, leaving behind a sense of unease, though, fortunately, there had been an unexpected benefit.
As Adam glanced around the room, something extraordinary occurred. Suddenly, the sounds, smells, and light seemed to explode into his senses. Every object in his surroundings was vividly imprinted in his mind, as if a boundary had been broken. Everything felt unnervingly familiar, as if he had gained mastery over his surroundings.
"Perception?" Adam murmured, as the heightened awareness didn't last long. It faded quickly, but for that brief moment, everything had come together. Where once individual senses had been isolated, they now fused into one unified experience. It was as though he could even sense the perceptions of others, their awareness colliding with his.
Had he not pulled himself out of this heightened state last night, it was likely that the shadowy werewolf would have overwhelmed him, flooding him with sensations that would have caused him to lose consciousness.
Sighing, Adam straightened up, tidying the attic. Listening to the sounds from below, he grabbed the Divine Words and made his way downstairs.
In the living room, Monk Fura was conversing with Maggie, and it seemed he was inquiring about tuition fees.
At the back of Roya, there stood the Shining Light Theological Academy, and most of the nearby clergy and nobles had graduated from its halls. However, the tuition fees were exorbitant for commoners.
Though Fura held a high opinion of Adam, he was unable to afford the fees himself, as his own wealth was meager.
Moreover, Adam had no desire to attend such an academy—what was the point? Was he supposed to march toward certain death?
As Adam descended with the Divine Words in hand, Fura looked at him with a tinge of regret. Adam had been born in the wrong era, for years ago, before the academy's reforms, a commoner could attend simply by passing an exam and purchasing the Divine Words.
But as noble influence grew, most academies had reformed their entrance requirements, making it nearly impossible for commoners to gain entry. While this allowed the clergy to receive better resources and elevated their status, Fura, a beneficiary of this change, still sighed at the missed opportunities.
"Adam!" Fura's voice carried a sense of warmth and regret as he addressed the young man, his gaze flickering to the Divine Words in Adam's hands.
"You haven't been around for several days," Adam exclaimed with a touch of surprise, his face quickly clouding with a hint of reluctance. Nevertheless, he handed the book back to Fura. "Here you go."
"Things have been a bit hectic," Fura responded, taking the book from Adam's hands, his expression one of increasing regret. Though Fura was quite capable, he was still not wealthy. His refusal of certain "gifts" from local nobles had not made things easier.
But as Fura opened the Divine Words, his expression shifted, and his fingers brushed over a thin wooden piece that had been slipped between the pages. Upon closer inspection, Adam saw that the wood bore a charcoal drawing, a rough approximation of the illustrations from the book.
Alis, Adam's uncle, did some carpentry, and this piece of wood—along with the charcoal—had been found in his small workshop. Adam had been preparing for this moment, intending to use his art as a stepping stone.
"Did you draw this?" Fura asked, his voice tinged with genuine delight. The charcoal was rough, the wooden surface crude, but there was no mistaking the resemblance to the illustrations in the book.
"Mm!" Adam replied, clearly embarrassed, lowering his head and saying no more.
"Seems it worked!" Adam thought to himself, fully aware of the art of negotiation. When trying to make a request, especially when one fears rejection, it's often best to ask for something even more unreasonable first, only to follow with the original request afterward, which increases the likelihood of a positive response.
While his situation with Fura was not the same, the principle remained the same: Adam had subtly demonstrated his potential in theology, but Fura could not afford to sponsor him for the academy. So, when presented with an alternative—a slightly lesser but still promising option—Fura, feeling a sense of guilt, would feel compelled to offer a form of compensation, even if it meant compromising his principles.
In some ways, Adam had skillfully leveraged Fura's kindness.
"You have quite a talent for painting," Fura remarked, offering generous praise as he squeezed the Divine Words in his hands. He smiled with genuine pleasure.
After a brief pause, Fura continued, "I know a few painters. I'll speak with them later, perhaps we can find a way for you to learn something."
"Quickly thank Monk Fura!" Maggie urged, nudging her nephew, clearly overjoyed. She even offered some meat pies to Fura, but he politely declined.
"If it works out, I'll come by tomorrow morning and take you with me," Fura added, then turned to leave, murmuring softly, "The gods will bless the faithful."
As Adam watched Fura's retreating figure, he couldn't help but smile, muttering to himself, "The gods bless no one. Only I bless myself."
"Adam?" Maggie's voice broke his reverie, and he turned to her with a shy smile.
"This is wonderful! Adam has a gift for painting, and now he has Monk Fura's help," Maggie said, her joy evident. Since Adam's arrival, there was an additional mouth to feed in the house.
Though Adam was quite capable, having more workers did not necessarily translate into greater profits. A household's earnings had limits.
Adam smiled and walked into the kitchen, grabbing the basket of pickled pastries as he prepared to go out again.
Aside from the encounter with the powerful kin the previous night, everything else was under his control.
He had gathered a wealth of information, not only about the surrounding residents but also about the South District Chapel.
Through the purchases made by various suppliers of the chapel, as well as arrangements for baptisms and pilgrimages, Adam deduced that the chapel might be undergoing renovations, specifically focusing on the murals.
This was one of the reasons Adam had decided to pursue becoming a painter.
Adam had delved into Fura's background. He came from a noble family but, as a second son, had been cast out upon reaching adulthood with only a small sum of money. With that money, he entered the theological academy, a path chosen by many noble bastards.
Perhaps influenced by some ascetic monks at the academy, Fura had developed a strong sense of justice and was deeply displeased by the academy's increased barriers to entry for commoners. After graduating, he didn't return to his family's estate but instead came to Roya. There, he rejected offers from other nobles, having no connections in the city.
Adam respected Fura for his principles, but that did not stop him from exploiting this naïve monk.
Fura, with no real connections, couldn't fund Adam's entry into the academy, but when he noticed Adam's potential in painting, he remembered the chapel's plans to restore its murals.
Adam thought back to the night of the execution and how Fura had displayed impressive skill with his sword. With Fura's background and abilities, he could gain considerable benefits if he chose to speak out.
Judging from the situation, Adam figured that having him join as an apprentice to help with the mural restoration, assisting the artists, would be within Fura's moral limits.
Gaining access to the chapel and spending entire days there would provide invaluable opportunities to gather intelligence. Whether seeking to use the Church to undermine Baron Mansra or exploring the chapel's defensive strategies for the walls of Roya, this access would grant Adam far more control.
Most importantly, as the local Church, it would be the best source of information. He could obtain early knowledge of personnel movements within the Church.
"Though I've concealed much, one day, that person will find their way to Roya!" Adam thought as he sold another pickled pastry. After laying down the cloth and wiping his face with the back of his hand, he lightly rubbed the scar beneath his eye.
Even if things went awry, Adam had little to lose. This was all Fura's initiative, nothing directly involving Adam. His only concern was that Fura's sense of guilt might make him lower his moral standards too quickly and use his connections to send Adam to the academy.
Lowering the standards of a good person was as foul as dumping a bucket of filth from a second-floor window—but Adam knew this well and had no regrets.
Fura entered the chapel through a side door, nodded at some of the other monks, but then hesitated.
He had never used his influence to gain advantages for others before.
In the end, Fura approached the painter, his decision made.