Chapter 166: Rasen
The summer sun shone brightly in the clear sky, pouring down scorching heat. The temperature, already unbearable since dawn, was rising by the minute.
In the colossal city of San Martín, the flow of people never ceased. Countless nuns, believers, and priests came and went, crossing the wide avenues of white stone.
Among them, large caravans could be seen arriving from distant lands: men and women walking slowly, their faces expressionless, their eyes dull, as if they had been stripped of all free will.
Dominating the skyline, the distinctive six-kilometer cross rose toward the heavens. Its colossal shadow covered much of the city, enveloping the inhabitants in a dark cloak that seemed to devour the sunlight.
Without exception, they were all dressed in tunics. Their uniform clothing erased social and personal differences, reducing each individual to just another member of the flock. Around their necks hung a silver crucifix, reflecting the devotion and weight of the faith that ruled the city.
However, that calm was superficial. Kael knew that beneath that appearance lay a hotbed of intrigue, fanatical faith, and ambition. That was precisely why he had returned.
He would spend a long time in this city, at least a year.
He needed a stable place to settle down before continuing with his true goal: his quest to reach Seventh Heaven.
But before venturing further, he had to take care of the immediate situation. The first thing was to find a place to stay and calmly plan his next moves.
This city, after all, was no ordinary place: it was the cradle of religion throughout the Northern Frontier, a sanctuary that served as a center of power and influence.
As he walked, Kael paid attention to his surroundings. With every step, his ears picked up fragments of conversations. The vast majority revolved around the Ancient Sun God, which did not surprise him.
This part of the city was dominated by fervent believers, and their devotion permeated the very air.
The great city of San Martín was divided into four sectors: 1, 2, 3, and 4. Each represented the hierarchical scale that governed the city.
Sectors 1 and 2 were home to ordinary believers, along with deacons, priests, and nuns. They were the base of the pyramid, the silent multitude that supported the foundations of the faith.
Sector 3 was different. This is where the cardinals and bishops were located. This level represented the pinnacle of intermediate authority.
Finally, sector 4 was reserved for the absolute elite: the Pope and the Archbishop. This last sector was the heart of San Martín, a place inaccessible to most. It was there that the highest authority was concentrated.
This was how the great city of San Martín was divided.
Kael stopped after walking for a long time. Before him stood a particular establishment, full of believers and nuns. As soon as he entered, the murmur of prayers enveloped him. The voices were uniform and disciplined.
He walked calmly, observing the reverent silence that dominated the atmosphere, until he reached the reception area. There, a blue-eyed nun with a kind expression was waiting for him, her gestures conveying calm and faith.
"How much does it cost to stay for a month?" Kael asked, without bothering to greet her as local customs dictated.
The nun first made the sign of the cross on her chest and then a circle, a gesture representing the Ancient Sun God. Her voice was soft but firm as she replied:
"I’m sorry, but we don’t accept money. If you want a room, you have to pay for it with social work. Since you seem to be new here, I should tell you that in Sector 1, most people are picked up by the caravans and comply with that rule."
"Is social work mandatory?" Kael asked again, without the slightest change in his tone.
"Yes, it is mandatory," replied the nun with the same warmth.
"..." Kael remained silent. His gaze remained indifferent, although inside he understood the situation: most likely, the same rule applied in all residences in this sector. "Give me a room for a month."
"I see. Can you give me your name, young man?"
"Rasen," Kael replied, lying with complete naturalness.
The nun took a pen, wrote some notes in a register, and handed him a key hanging from a wooden keyring in the shape of a cross.
"Here you are, young Rasen. Tomorrow we will tell you what kind of work you will be doing. I wish you a happy stay and may the Lord protect you from all evil and danger."
Kael received the key. He didn’t say a word. He nodded slightly and climbed the wooden stairs to his assigned room with steady steps.
Once in the room, Kael sat on the bed and opened his status window, which he hadn’t seen since he left Vigerth Mountain, now a blood-red peak.
Kael Medici.
Title: Strayed Demon.
Talent: SSS.
Mana Core: Awakened.
Rank: 7
Knight Rank: 7 Stars
Magician: 3rd Circle
Traits: Refinement (A), Swordsmanship (A), Melee (S), Tamer (C)...
Strength: 226 +
Endurance: 224 +
Agility: 225 +
Vitality: 255 +
Mana Capacity: 100%
Stat points: 0
"..." Kael closed his eyes slightly. His stats had increased, and he felt no pain whatsoever, which he found strange, since whenever his stats increased, he always experienced intense pain.
But now it had increased, and he hadn’t noticed it, and that was due to one reason alone: the Reverse Flow Sagren River. It seemed that, in addition to using his soul as payment, it also passively improved his body. That was a small windfall.
In addition to the meager profits, the price was too high to use it too often. Kael had already decided to use it as his last resort. With what happened on Vigerth Mountain, he had a connection to that river of reverse-flowing blood.
Kael closed the status window. He got up and walked over to the window overlooking a large street.
Below, life flowed on without stopping. All kinds of people walked by, laughing and chatting among themselves. It was an endless stream of faces and voices, each with its own concerns.
Kael watched silently for a moment. Then he looked away.
He returned to the desk and sat down in the chair. It rocked slightly under his weight, producing a soft creak. His eyes narrowed, and without unnecessary gestures, he sank into his thoughts.
The first thing is obvious: I don’t have any connections here. I’m a stranger in this territory, and brute force alone isn’t enough to survive in a place like this. I need to build my network from scratch, step by step, until I’ve established relationships that will allow me to climb the ladder quickly. Without that, any progress would be a fleeting illusion.
Furthermore, my soul is damaged. Finding a way to heal it is not only important: it is the most important thing right now.
I can make use of social work, mingling with the outer layers of the city. Slowly, I can reveal my strength, showing just enough to attract the right attention. A person in rank 7 is always very welcome in any faction, and each faction seeks talent before loyalty. Therefore, my first steps will be simple: adapt and recognize the terrain. I will not rush.
I could immediately immerse myself in the city’s hidden world. The doors to the underworld are always open to those with power. But doing so now would be too counterproductive.
I’ve just arrived; I’m an unknown quantity. In that world, mistrust is instinctive. Entering now would only set me back, attracting suspicion prematurely and destroying any opportunity before it even arises.
Kael closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, his gaze was more determined. His goal was clear: he had to reach sectors 3 and 4, where the true power of the Holy Empire resided.
However, to gain access to that circle, intention and strength were not enough. One had to climb the hierarchy, progressing from believer to deacon, then priest, and so on until reaching the highest rungs.
But that natural advancement was fraught with obstacles. Each rank required lengthy processes and tests to slow down anyone without backing.
If he followed the common route, he would lose years of his life.
I need connections. That’s the only way I’ll be able to move up quickly, without wasting time on useless paperwork.
He stopped rocking in his chair and listed, one by one, the most pressing problems. First: he lacked connections, a factor he considered absolutely vital. Second: his current status was the lowest of all. In the Holy Empire, believers were little more than disposable pawns, with no voice and no rights.
These were the two crucial points to resolve.
Making connections was the priority. The most direct route was social work: mingling with people, providing visible help, and gaining an initial reputation. That method was slow but sure. Once completed, doors would begin to open on their own.
Once he was clear about his next steps, Kael went straight to bed. His thoughts were in order, every decision had been made calmly, but his body no longer responded with the same firmness.
Despite having undergone a qualitative change, fatigue struck him with intensity. It was not ordinary tiredness; his muscles and bones were firm, even more powerful than before.
The exhaustion came from a deeper place.
Kael knew it well: the source was in his damaged soul. Recovery required rest, so, without resistance, he closed his eyes and soon after fell into a deep sleep.