Judas, who had initially been skeptical of the Holy Water, spoke those words even as he applied the liquid to the area of his right arm where the Oripathy was most severe.
At that moment, Judas held no real hope. He had tried Holy Water long ago, and to his current self, it simply had no effect... under normal circumstances, that is.
But what was happening now? The Originium on his arm was actually dissolving like snowflakes meeting boiling water. This defied all logic; it wasn't "Sankta-like" at all!
"Is this the power of that Saint? She made this Holy Water herself, didn't she? I didn't expect you to be willing to give something like this as a gift. What exactly did you come here for this time?"
The moment Judas discovered the effect of the Holy Water, he understood that his old friend certainly hadn't come just for a simple chat. He knew that for everything this old fox gave, he expected to take something back.
"It's nothing particularly major. I only want the activation codes for the city of Judas. For you, the last Lord of Judas, that shouldn't be difficult, right?"
Hearing the Pope's words, Judas couldn't help but let out a cold laugh. He truly hadn't expected his old friend to ask for such a thing—especially after so many years of silence.
"What do you want with that city? It is no longer a city blessed by God. That city currently sits within Laterano's borders; don't you know its condition better than I do?"
Judas couldn't understand what the old man before him was planning. How many years had that city sat there, abandoned? Why suddenly remember they still had such a city now? Furthermore, Laterano's twelve main cities were different from the nomadic cities of other nations; they were unearthed within Laterano's territory. Judas suspected they had discovered some secret.
"As for what we'll do, that is strictly confidential. We intend to perform necessary repairs on the city. As for where we will use it next—that is a secret."
Seeing that his friend was unwilling to reveal the hidden secret, Judas didn't press the matter. After a long silence, the elder pulled out a device—the activation key for the nomadic city, Judas.
"Take it. Though I don't know what you want with a city that should be completely derelict, since you've come all this way, I can't let you go back empty-handed. Consider it my return gift to you."
The moment he handed the key to his old friend, Judas felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his heart. A matter he hadn't been able to let go of for years was finally settled. The hot-blooded youths of the past had become two old men on the verge of death. It was a miracle that they could meet once more.
"Don't wear an expression like you're about to leave this world. Since God hasn't reclaimed your soul, keep on living well. I expect the Saint and her companions will be looking for you soon."
"They've already looked for us, but the current administrator refused them. If you want to act as a lobbyist for the Saint, your information and your words have come far too late!"
Judas mocked his old friend for making a fruitless trip while tucking the two small vials of Holy Water into a cabinet, looking like a child afraid someone would snatch his belongings. Although trading a city for two vials of Holy Water felt like a bit of a loss, the thought that the city he had caused to be abandoned might find new life settled a lingering regret in his heart.
"It wasn't that kind of cooperation, but a much more meaningful one," the Pope said as he stood to leave. However, his nonchalant words piqued Judas's curiosity.
"In a few years, this city will belong to their organization. At that time, you should think carefully about where your future lies. I imagine you'll have much in common regarding the topic of the Infected."
The Pope gave him a mischievous wink and left before Judas could respond, leaving the founder of Azazel sitting there alone, processing those words.
"The Emperor is going to give a city to an organization made of Infected? Am I crazy, or has this country gone mad? But for a Saint... it's not exactly impossible."
Azazel felt the absurdity of the world. Just days ago, the Infected were being discriminated against, and now they were about to take control of a city? It was beyond belief.
"If that's the case, I can only hope the current administrator considers things carefully. In situations like this, one mustn't be impulsive. Anything that feels off indicates a great secret hidden within..."
Before closing the door, Azazel glanced meaningfully behind him, then smiled for some unknown reason. He took out paper and pen, intending to write a letter to Hellagur.
That night, Hellagur received the letter. The intelligence regarding Talulah and Jeanne caused Hellagur's long-dormant insomnia to resurface. He had indeed underestimated Talulah's influence, but the fact that they, as Infected, could participate in such world-changing events was something no one with an understanding of Ursus would have ever imagined.
Hellagur rubbed his temples, recalling the words he had used to reject Talulah. He couldn't help but let out a wry smile. Looking back, it was indeed quite laughable.
"Mr. Hellagur, the pests lurking nearby have been cleared. I hope your people can clean the battlefield before dawn. It wouldn't be good if others discovered a pile of Sarkaz corpses."
The speaker was Dr. Kal'tsit, returning from clearing out the mercenaries. Hellagur looked at the woman who had eliminated all the enemies without getting a single drop of blood on her medical coat. Years ago, when he had fled with Kal'tsit, they hadn't encountered many enemies, and any who blocked their path were no match for Hellagur; he had never known she possessed such skill.
It seemed the scientist and doctor before him held many secrets. But Hellagur had no intention of prying; at the very least, she had acted for the sake of Azazel.
When the old man had sent word that a high-ranking official from Laterano would be coming, they had gone on high alert to ensure that the official wouldn't die here. If an accident truly happened here, it would be the Terra version of the 'Sarajevo Incident' between Ursus and Laterano. Ursus might even blame the whole thing on the Infected...
"Thank you for your hard work, Dr. Kal'tsit. I will arrange what I promised you as soon as possible. Tomorrow should be fine."
Hellagur maintained his long-standing gentlemanly demeanor in his reply. Kal'tsit said nothing more; she simply nodded and walked toward her room. After she left, Hellagur donned his coat and prepared to dispose of the mercenaries Kal'tsit had killed. As long as no one found them near here, it would be a success.
And as for Jeanne and Talulah, who were at the center of all this... Jeanne was still doing nail art on Talulah's tail. She seemed to be getting addicted to it, and Talulah had already resigned herself to her fate.