Night came and went, and I continued sleeping outside as usual, but near Troy’s house instead. I'd found a rather comfortable patch of ground, and though I waited, I hadn't detect any presences watching me at the moment. Figuring they thought they hadn't aroused suspicion, I rested easy.

Early morning came, waking me with the sounds of a much more active than usual village. Most everyone looked bleary eyed, not quite ready to face the day so soon, but it was necessary. The ‘Disciples’ had decided to give their sermons in the morning; so everyone could think about the teachings through the day.

The horde of shambling zombies made their way to the banks of the river, yawning and rubbing their eyes. It wasn't as though they were lazybones who slept in all the time, rather another half hour of sleep was just far preferable. Only Melissa seemed awake and ready for the sermon; though I was also curious, as I didn't know what these imposters would be teaching.

The mass was divided into three parts that were far more professional than I anticipated. Well, the Poran were zealous townies, it would be stranger still for them to know nothing at all. It just felt strange having such a religious crime group, though it's not unprecedented.

First we were dryly led through a history of Tias and man from Tomas. Not in its entirety, but more like several prime snippets from his alleged time among humanity. Other than the story about the fact he actually traversed Derriad and the surrounding lands, such as Kallahall and Mensk, I had learned the rest from Lyssa.

Next, an excerpt from the Scriptured Doctrines were read and interpreted by Harold. An objectively great speaker, I'm sure his words would have sounded quite profound to me, had I not been philosophically opposed to half of what he said. Varying tone and clever pausing made it engaging to listen to how all beings should strive to curate and nurture the Flow of Life. Despite it mostly being talk on familial care, and who qualified to demand your sacrifice(the church, duh), those around me seemed to be quite absorbed in the lesson on Tian Meng.

It wasn't quite to the point of becoming enraptured, and many faces didn't look quite convinced, but none were letting their attention wander. Save the children, I suppose, but when do young ones ever care for such cerebral things? Slowly, the idea that as the church was the one who put in the effort, they deserved recompense from those protected, put down its foundations. Peasants didn't have the ability to nurture the Flow of Life, so they could only support those who were able.

Well, even if it made its way into their heads, the villagers recognized it as foreign. Flow of Life? Hah! What was that, did it feed us when we were hungry? Can we eat it? Did the Church keep us warm? While the concept looked well and good to them, they were a particular instance. The villagers could realize that the Flow of Life and its wellbeing meant little to them.

You may call it greed, but the fact that they kept that attitude in mind was heartening to see. Let this village step forward if it finds itself lacking, I would step with them.

Harold took the longest and shook the hardest, but the seeds that fell were no good. But being a Disciple in the eyes of the villagers, they showed deference, and the service moved on. Tyra stepped into the spotlight to close things.

“We now seek an offering to the Guardian of Man. Though we can not return it to the temple, step forward and bare your arm as an offering to him.”

The audience shifted slightly uncomfortably, with the exception of Melissa and Corsair. Spilling blood was not something the others had ever done, being over a hundred miles away from Glaucen. The sermons had been working up to this point, and with its importance emphasized so greatly, no one thought they would be able to escape it. Still, they could not find it in themselves to be eager at the prospect.

Melissa, a fanatic with very little knowledge on her cult unhesitatingly stepped up; Corsair, having been to Glaucen numerous times participated more than once there, and was no stranger to the idea. Since it could not be avoided, the rest fell in line, with the exception of the children and Erwin(Hannah’s father, carved him a cane once).

The bowl they had with them resembled the ones in the Heirga Yoll with only a few differences in the excessive patterning. Tomas held it steady at waist level, a fairly impressive feat considering the thing looked to be made of stone and could hold at least three liters. His gaze drifted, flickering from Harold to Tyra, before being silently scolded when they matched gazes, only for the process to repeat a little later.

Harold stood to Tomas’ right, and to the left of the incoming villagers. A silky crimson cloth was held reverently in his right hand. In his left, a ceremonial dagger a foot long, hilt to point. It started straight, but gradually turned into a sharp curve, looking like the fang of a large beast. He handed it over to each participant in turn, before taking it back to be wiped down with the sanguine cloth. The cloth caught my eye far more than any of the other religious paraphernalia; the blood it touched was wholly absorbed, and it let go of not a single drop, more vampiric than the dagger. The way Harold kept it away from the edge of the blade as he wiped it down also indicated that it was something precious.

Last, there was the third member, Tyra; the crux of their operation. She stood to the right of the approaching villagers, the hand they were to hold the dagger with. As all but Corsair had little experience, she stood there to help guide the dagger into position, and speak encouraging words. Gently putting her hand over another, pulling closer to the one about to strike at their own arm. The insidiousness of it made me wonder if they had another use for the blood, perhaps feeding the cloth?

In the realm of manipulation it seemed Tyra was far more adept than subtlety. Though not a peerless beauty, she had a fair and smooth face, with slender limbs. Were a single word needed to describe her, I would choose bewitching, though that may be colored by my perceptions of her intent. Though Pan, Ross, and the other similarly engaged men were less upset by her taking hold of them, they definitely became a little stirred. Even if they hadn't looked favorably upon the ideas of the sermon, a tougher person could endure more loss. Thus with Tyra’s gentle provocations, the villagers became a little competitive, the single men most of all.

Well, as I was aware of the actual circumstances it didn't apply to me. My free attitude before her the night before also meant there wasn't the impetus to act in that manner either.

I knew, but she didn’t know I knew, and I knew she didn't know I knew, so it made sense to react just a little. So when Tyra pushed up against my side, holding my hand, I was in possession of my faculties trying to decide how much damage to do to myself. Besides, what was blood to my Arbitrary Body? Luckily after thinking that, I wasn't suddenly hit with an anemic syndrome, a small oversight in the workings of the world.

“You should offer as much as you can to the Patriarch. A man who gives as much as he is able to Tias is looked upon favorably by members of the Church.” Tyra spoke quietly in the direction of my ear. She was a little short, and I was quite tall, so the message wasn't as quiet as it could have been.

Well I certainly don't want to slight ‘the Church’ now do I?

Sliding the dagger across my left forearm, I could barely detect the feeling of the edge. A terrifyingly sharp blade, the ease let me precisely control the level of damage done. I felt my health drain steadily, but as the edge was being dragged slowly, massive damage backlash didn't occur. 12% seemed like a good amount, considering my health experienced an increase and low starting point, that left me with about as much as when I first came to the world. Anatomy of my body being apparently the same as that of the old world, crippling effects were avoided, and even [Bleeding] disappeared after lifting the dagger up from my arm.

Holding my arm out, about to wait for the blood to pour into the ceremonial basin, there were several audible gasps. Tyra and Harold were no longer breathing, and the villagers all turned pale, save Ross and Troy. Those two merely grimaced a bit.

Looking around, I then reevaluated my arm.

Right, though the damage itself is negligible to me, the appearance does not match. A red snake a bit over a foot long pulsed blood from my arm. Unlike the others, who let their arms release a small stream easily closed by a tightly grasped hand, my arm was letting loose ounces. Underworld of Armok was a place of gratuitous bloodshed, and the scene would be tame there, and having been one of its denizens, I found nothing strange about it. The Disciples and villagers were not used to streams of blood and exposed patches of flesh, and the steady sound of splashing was the only noise for a time.

Underworld of Armok's aesthetic of fear managed to follow me and affect how my wounds looked. That was another thing for me to keep in mind.

A cleaned up my arm, making the appearance somewhat less terrifying, and I hoped would also help everyone recover.

“Hahaha, of course Alric can give up so much of himself. Think of how he’s given to the village...how could he not also give to the Guardia of Man?” Ross spoke haltingly, but helped everyone recover with his tone.

Pulling through in the moment of truth; good job Ross!

I somehow felt solemnity directed towards me by the adult villagers. The children looked a bit upset, but not quite terrified anymore. Overall, it wasn't as if they stepped back from me, however the act would be an indelible memory.

Haa~, I’m still just me. You got used to a mage, why need you be uncomfortable with this part of me? Well, I could only leave it to time.

There were traces of awe on the villagers, but the ‘Disciples’ were wide eyed. Tomas delved fully into fear, slightly trembling; the basin which had been completely filled by my ‘offering’ now spilling over in small waves. Harold and Tyra handled themselves better, but visibly tightened. Tyra herself froze while still slightly wrapped around the arm holding the dagger. I could feel her heartbeat and breathing erratically thunder within her.

I wonder what the Poran would have done if she died right there from a heart attack.

Taking my time, I held the out dagger towards Harold. After a few moments, he took it, Tyra released me, and after uneasily clearing her throat, she spoke.

“Well, s-since Alric has given such an offering, there is n-no need for the rest of you to do so. The basin has been filled, and we conduct another r-ritual in private to give to the Patriarch. Remember what we have taught you and follow Tian Meng.” Rushing the last portion slightly, Tyra and her companions made for their lodgings. Tomas definitely should have been more careful with the blood of it was all so ‘sacred’.

“Ahh, I just bleed a lot, it looks worse than it was.” I scratched at my face, tapping at one of the semimetallic areas of reeter sap. Those probably didn't help me look any less strange.

“Is that wound not going to affect you? Ross had mentioned you were wounded while in the forest, but I didn't think…” Pan was the first to fully recover, and began with a softball question.

“Haha, no, I’ll be fine. Rather, I do have some ointment for those who cut themselves a little too deeply. My body is very good at reconstituting itself, and I was actually very careful, it would be better if some of you used these things.”

It didn't take much convincing to have some volunteers come forward, but alas my remaining Callus ointment vanished in a flash. There weren't many in need of it, but I also helped clean and bandage the remaining wounded. That event just before was a bit of an anomaly to the mage Alric’s usual appearance; it took little prompting for people to begin to normal.

Those fixed up thanked me, and people gradually dispersed. The children gave me odd looks, and I scattered them with a few s and s. Rion and Tagalong Girl remained longer, but with a tilt of the head imperceptible to others, they moved on.

Haa~, I’ve done something a bit too serious. Let’s just unwind in the forest for the day. That'll feel good.

A/N:AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!