roccoschili Chapter 106: The Bishop Wants to Make Amends
Chapter 106: The Bishop Wants to Make Amends
Madame Mina’s “pick-me-up” tonic was clearly effective—perhaps too effective.Sherlock, after drinking the hot brandy, became visibly animated, finally showing the “excessive energy” he often mentioned but rarely displayed.
Normally, the Inspectorate’s consultant restrained himself with ironclad rationality.
His occasional low blood sugar made him seem lazy and listless.
It was a contradictory trait.
Letting Sherlock burn off his excess energy often came across as awkward, almost neurotic.
On Glass Island, Sherlock was something of a celebrity, his habits well-known.
He thrived on intense work—mind-bending cases or complex, dangerous investigations.
But he despised physical exercise, calling it a pointless waste of energy.
Exercise burned sugar, which his low blood sugar couldn’t sustain, leaving his body weak and his mind dulled.
Yet even then, his spirit remained fiercely vibrant, often causing literal headaches.
Now, with alcohol in his system, as Sherlock himself admitted, his intellect was disrupted.
His intense excitement, pride, and curiosity spilled over.
He became noticeably talkative.
After discussing Aiwass’s grandfather, Sherlock launched into stories of his past cases.
These were private victories he’d never shared, now perfect for table talk.
Normally, he’d scoff at recounting case details or explaining his methods.
But his words proved he hadn’t forgotten a thing—just hadn’t bothered to share.
In less than twenty minutes, Sherlock began to sober up.
Aiwass could tell—his speech slowed, and his silences grew longer, signaling he was coming back to himself.
Realizing he might have overdone it, Sherlock adjusted his collar, politely excused himself, and headed upstairs to splash water on his face.
“Sherlock gets drunk fast, but he sobers up quickly too,” Bishop Mathers said, chuckling heartily.
In his mind, Sherlock was always a somber figure, “like clear water flowing in darkness.”
“Now, it seems our serious young man is still youthful after all.
He just suppresses his true nature too much.”
Madame Mina sighed softly.
“If he hadn’t been born in Avalon, but in a place where the Path of Wisdom is legal, where he could freely show his fierce, pure curiosity, he might be happier.”
“Let’s not dwell on that, Mina,” Mathers said, waving the topic away.
He turned to Aiwass.
“So, what do you think, Aiwass?”
“About what?”
Aiwass raised an eyebrow.
“Sherlock’s drinking capacity?”
“That’s hardly worth discussing,” Mathers laughed.
“I mean Eagle Cape Village.
Are you going?”
“I do want to go,” Aiwass nodded.
“But I probably won’t bring Yulia.”
By then, Aiwass would likely have extracted and sealed the Illusory Demon within Yulia.
Even if he left her some power, she’d be an ordinary girl with a spark of flame talent, not yet a transcendent.
If danger arose, Yulia couldn’t tap into demon powers to protect herself.
Bringing her would limit their actions, and with their group, skipping risky investigations would be a waste.
Sherlock would be a dual-class third-level Mage and Law Mage by then.
His dual casting roles gave him a robust mana pool, boosting his flexibility and strength far beyond a typical third-level mage.
Haina, likely level 26 or 27, was close to the fourth energy level.
Together, they formed a classic warrior-mage-priest triangle, each a master in their role.
Add Lily, a True Eye type with wide perception, doubling as scout and rogue, and they had a perfect four-person strike team.
“You’re right, Aiwass,” Mathers agreed.
“Not taking a minor girl on an adventure is the responsible choice for a brother.”
He added, “But I suggest you go after mid-month.”
“Of course,” Aiwass grinned.
“I’ll wait until after my advancement ritual.”
“You sound confident about the ritual,” Mathers noted, catching the subtext.
“To be precise, wait a few days after it’s done.
By then, the holy sword skill stored in the chapel key should be ready again.”
Aiwass was surprised.
“Bishop, didn’t you say I had to return it before January 1st?”
He’d brought the key to return it, as its cooldown would reset around December 20th, leaving little chance to use the stored holy sword skill again.
“Yes, January 1st is the Candle Vigil Festival,” Mathers nodded, his expression serious.
“The royal family honors their ancestors then, and I need the key to unlock the tomb’s protective barrier.
But from what Sherlock said, Eagle Cape Village holds some shadows.
So, I’ll lend it to you a bit longer.
Just return it by year’s end.”
“What if I die in the village?” Aiwass countered.
“What about the festival?”
“If you’re not back by the 25th or 26th, I’ll come find you,” Mathers said firmly.
“Leaving Glass Island briefly to retrieve the Saint Genevieve Chapel key is reasonable.
Though, the paperwork afterward will be a hassle.
Best if you return early.”
[Is he giving me the key so he has an excuse to step in if needed?] Aiwass thought, struck silent.
If he’d doubted Mathers’s kindness before, it was now clear the bishop genuinely cared.
From earlier words, Aiwass easily pieced together Mathers’s motives—guilt, regret, and a desperate wish to make amends.
Though Aiwass’s father, Giulio, was just one of many students Mathers taught, their bond ended when Giulio graduated.
Yet, because Mathers was absent the day Giulio died, he carried a lingering guilt, believing the Alexanders’ deaths were partly his fault.
Back then, Mathers feared the unknown demon-wielding figure hunting the Alexanders.
He didn’t dare take Aiwass in or entrust him to his parents or acquaintances.
Fear of an unseen enemy is human nature, and even the Path of Devotion didn’t demand selfless sainthood—especially not from a Mathers already disillusioned with it.
He sent Aiwass to an orphanage funded by Professor Moriarty, someone he trusted.
But before Moriarty adopted Aiwass, Mathers never visited, hoping to distance himself from the brief, half-day incident and the unknown foe.
He also feared Aiwass, with an unpredictable personality, might disrupt his peaceful life with Mina.
Yet Mathers’s strong moral compass wouldn’t let him forget Aiwass.
Unable to fully let go, his faint guilt grew into a tormenting weight.
When speaking with Professor Moriarty, Mathers impulsively mentioned the years-old incident.
Aiwass once thought he was adopted merely as a “bonus” to appease Yulia.
Now, it seemed Moriarty inquired about him specifically, adopting him upon learning he was “Aiwass Alexander.”
Mathers likely played a role in this.
So, when Moriarty later asked Mathers to teach Giulio’s child holy arts, Mathers opened the chapel for Aiwass alone.
It wasn’t, as he claimed, to repay Moriarty.
In a way, it was atonement—for a sin only Mathers knew and cared about.
That’s why he comforted the wheelchair-bound Aiwass so carefully, fearing he’d crush his spirit.
When Aiwass couldn’t protect himself, Mathers lent him the chapel key, a precious duty-bound relic of the Saint’s Tomb guardian.
Fourteen years ago, Mathers had regretted once—not for being away sealing a curse when Aiwass’s parents died, but for letting fear and inconvenience stop him from adopting Aiwass.
He wanted to live for himself, but as a good man, he couldn’t let go.
Now, he regretted it.
To avoid future regret, he was overcompensating.
Understanding Mathers’s full intentions, Aiwass sighed silently.
He didn’t try to dissuade Mathers or return the key—that would only hurt and worry him.
Instead, he chose to respect the weight of Mathers’s guilt and regret, accepting his care openly and vowing to stay safe.
All Aiwass could do was ensure this elder, who truly cared for him, could escape the painful, tragic fate he was otherwise destined for.
“Thank you, Bishop,” Aiwass said, setting down his milk tea and bowing sincerely.
“I’ll take care of myself and return soon.
I won’t cause you trouble.”
Mathers just smiled warmly, his eyes slightly misty.
He clearly understood why Aiwass spoke so earnestly.
[Such a sensible, clever child…]
Mathers sighed inwardly.
[Now, I truly regret it.]