TuxedoTranslations

Chapter 16

Although Albin had previously claimed he wasn’t scared, the moment his father appeared before him, all his emotions surged.

The fear of being captured, the fear upon learning he was to be sacrificed, the fear when facing Latu, the fear before the blood wine pool, the fear of death…

All those emotions, which he couldn’t release at the time, turned into tears now.

Buried in his father’s arms, Albin cried so hard he couldn’t catch his breath, intermittently shouting, “I’m so scared…”

The fear was overwhelming, and at that moment, he couldn’t even explain why he was afraid.

Zeman didn’t stop his crying. He knelt on one knee, cupped the back of Albin’s head, and pulled him into an embrace, gently patting his back like soothing a baby.

His movements weren’t graceful; they were somewhat awkward, but he still tried to comfort the child in his arms.

“I’m here.”

That cold yet reassuring voice sounded in his ears.

Leaning against his father’s shoulder, Albin felt the intense fear being swept away by his hand, the turmoil in his heart gradually calming, and his crying subsided.

Savoring the comforting scent from his father, which carried no trace of alcohol, Albin lifted his head. His red eyes were swollen from crying, with tears still clinging to his lashes, and his pale face was smeared with bloodstains, looking pitiful.

“Why are you here, Dad? It’s so dangerous here. I already told the guard uncle that if I could get out, I’d come find you.”

Zeman wiped the bloodstains from his face.

“Guard?”

“Yes, the guard uncle you sent to take me away.” Albin nodded and tilted his face up, letting him wipe his face.

But from Zeman’s unfamiliar tone, Albin sensed something and nervously asked, “Isn’t he someone you sent?”

“I didn’t send anyone like that,” Zeman replied.

Albin was shocked, and then he recalled the repeated warnings from his teachers and parents since kindergarten.

Never go with strangers, even if they say they know your parents. Bad people like to use such excuses to lure children away.

The kindergarten even organized multiple drills, where pretend bad people would try various tricks to kidnap them, training them to be vigilant.

Other kids were easily tricked by the cunning fake bad guys, who managed to take them out of the kindergarten. Only Albin never got taken.

It wasn’t that he was clever enough to see through the fake bad guys’ excuses, but every time he received candy from the pretend bad guys, he’d think to share it with the teacher or the security guard first, and that’s how he was “saved” in time.

“Those nasty villains!” Albin said with lingering fear. “They even used you to trick me. I’m glad I didn’t go with him.”

He almost got tricked.

But… his dad really had been looking for him, and even came in person!

Albin quickly pushed the villain out of his mind and felt happy.

Zeman frowned slightly, deep in thought.

Could it be the people behind those monsters were after this child?

He gently patted Albin on the head.

“You did well to see through him.”

Albin’s gaze flickered.

Actually, he hadn’t seen through the person at all.

Afraid that Zeman might ask more and reveal the truth, Albin quickly changed the subject, “Dad, did you meet Latu? He’s the guy with the wine-red hair. He’s really bad, he’s sacrificed many children, and seems to be a powerful guy. It’d be terrible if he found us.”

Zeman, without changing his expression, said, “They should all be participating in the ritual above ground.”

Albin let out a sigh of relief, looking around at the bones and shattered golden cups, murmuring, “It looks like the trial was interrupted. I don’t know if I passed.”

But at least this golden cup was broken, so even if he hadn’t become the Holy Son, they shouldn’t be using such a terrifying method to select someone next year.

Zeman’s gaze turned cold.

“What trial?”

“The trial to become the Holy Son of the Temple of the Wine God.” Albin proudly introduced his “Wine God Temple reform and farming plan,” eagerly waiting for praise.

Although it wasn’t successful, he thought his plan was pretty good.

However, all he saw was Zeman’s frosty expression.

Albin felt a little uneasy. “Dad…?”

“If chosen by the gods to be the Holy Son, a sacred mark would appear on your body.”

Albin looked down at himself, his body covered in blood, unable to tell if a sacred mark had appeared.

Zeman spoke coldly, “Do not become a Holy Son or priest of any temple. Never.”

Albin had never seen him so serious and was at a loss.

“Why not? Although the Temple of the Wine God is bad, if I become the Holy Son, I can change things here and save more people.”

Despite his young age, Albin could tell from Latu’s earlier words that the temples held a position above the kingdom, and the Holy Son had real power to influence the nation. It seemed like the quickest and simplest path.

“If you just want to improve breeding stock, when you get to the Rose Kingdom, I’ll arrange a suitable identity for you.” Zeman’s eyes grew dark. “You can join any temple you like, but never think about becoming the Holy Son.”

Seeing Zeman avoid the topic, Albin puffed out his cheeks.

“Why not? You can’t just deny my plan like that.” Albin said with a look of grievance.

He had originally thought his dad would praise him.

Zeman gazed at his stubborn and upset expression, his face softening.

He could tell Albin wouldn’t give up so easily.

And a child with the potential to become the Holy Son of the Wine God showed high affinity with water and fire, which was also sought after in the Sea and Sun Temples.

Albin would eventually come into contact with other temples.

And at that time, Zeman might not be by his side to stop him.

Gathering his thoughts, Zeman calmly told him, “Priests and Holy Sons are merely vessels that the gods can use at any time, prepared bodies for the gods.”

Albin froze.

The gods’ vessel?

“Do you mean that my body will be taken by the gods? Will I die? Or is it more like the gods occasionally possessing me when using magic?”

Zeman nodded, “It’s not ordinary divine possession; it’s an erasure of consciousness and occupation.”

Albin thought back to his experience in the blood wine pool, how that terrifying emotion had consumed him, how he had become unlike himself.

If he became the Holy Son, one day he would no longer be himself.

The annoying god that took over his body would probably use it to do more evil things.

No wonder priests and Holy Sons held such high status and power. No wonder the selection of the Holy Son had to be done by the gods themselves. They were picking their next body, after all.

No wonder Dad didn’t want him to become the Holy Son.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I misunderstood you,” Albin apologized obediently, then asked, “Does everyone know about this?”

“No. Most priests and Holy Sons don’t know, and even if they did, they probably wouldn’t refuse the gods’ possession.”

After all these years, every priest had been a devout follower of the main god.

“So how do you know, Dad?” Albin asked, confused.

“A friend found out and told me.” Zeman lowered his gaze, his eyes filled with more complex emotions.

Albin was still processing this revelation when he sneezed.

In the cold underground palace, he was only wearing a soaked blood shirt and underpants, shivering with the cold.

Zeman picked him up and prepared to leave, but Albin quickly reminded him, “Dad, I left my clothes by the altar.”

He grinned with relief, “Good thing I’m smart! I knew they’d get dirty, so I changed into the new clothes ahead of time.”

Zeman was puzzled. “It’s just clothes.”

How could this child still be worried about such trivial matters at a time like this?

“But those were the clothes you bought for me! Of course, I need to take care of them. If they get stained with blood wine, I won’t be able to wash it off.” Albin’s eyes sparkled.

His sincere enthusiasm transmitted through his smile to Zeman.

“By the way, we should take this too.” Albin, nestled in Zeman’s arms, pointed to a strange weapon nearby.

It was an incredibly ornate holy spear, shining with brilliant light, as if it had been formed from the last rays of the sun. Every inch from the spearhead to the handle was covered in mythical patterns and symbols, like an ancient religious mural.

“This is the weapon that appeared after I used magic, the one Uncle Edward taught me.”

He felt a little uneasy, not daring to tell Zeman why using the protective magic summoned this holy spear.

Zeman took the spear and handed it to Albin.

Albin carefully examined it. The handle was embedded with countless precious gems, sparkling like stars in the sky, making it almost too beautiful to be a weapon.

Why a spear?

“Spearmen are lucky!” Albin thought of a meme from his past life, though it was just an internet joke.

He turned the spear around and saw some ancient text etched on it, showing it to Zeman.

“The Spear of Salki.” After recognizing the ancient words on it, Zeman’s grip tightened suddenly.

Albin, however, showed no reaction. “What does this term mean?”

It sounds so difficult to pronounce.

“It means ‘the Spear of the Gods.’” Zeman explained in a low voice. “This is the Spear of the Gods in mythology, the Spear of the Stars. It also has another name, the Spear of Godslaying.”

“Long ago, there was a conflict among the gods over something, and the God of Love stood on the opposing side of the gods. To avoid the interference of the God of Love, the gods united to create this Godslaying Spear.”

Different temples have different focuses in their mythological records, and this part was not mentioned in the Sun Temple. Zeman had only come across it by chance in the Love God Temple. 

This was just one version of the story, and its authenticity was questionable.

The gods had often clashed with each other, but why was it that only this particular event wasn’t recorded in other temples?

Albin was surprised. “It can slay gods?”

“Mythological records are uncertain, but even if it was indeed forged as a Godslaying Spear, according to the myth, the God of Love didn’t die after being struck. He only fell into a brief coma. The fate of the spear was also never recorded in the myth.”

“No wonder the Magic System of the Love God Temple is different from the others.”

It seems like there’s ancestral enmity here.

Albin thought to himself that it was probably because the blood wine had tried to devour him, which led to the creation of such a weapon by the guardian magic. That blood wine was still a mystery to him, but it must be related to the power of the Wine God.

“It doesn’t seem to have disappeared after being used, which means I can still use it, right?” Albin began examining it enthusiastically. “I wonder if it’s real or just one form of it.”

That guardian magic probably wasn’t powerful enough to give him a real spear, right?

But the Godslaying Spear… He pondered.

Zeman stared at the spear, his expression shifting slightly.

“Albin,” he said in a solemn tone, suddenly giving a warning, “If you ever encounter a creature with black cross-shaped starbursts in its eyes in the future, use this to protect yourself. Those are dangerous creatures that will attack humans.”

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