The [Holy Grail of St. Antonio] is the core relic of the Diemonica Baptism ritual. The holy water contained in this brass chalet transforms the body of whoever drinks it.
While some experience dramatic effects, most end up with bodies optimized for prolonged battles.
Like Zephis, they gain a slightly inhuman, sturdy, and massive build.
Fernandez downed the grail in one go and sat cross-legged with his eyes closed. Sweat and bodily waste seeped out, emitting a foul odor.
-Goooh…
“This is…”
“The Stigma…”
Two stigmata embedded in Fernandez’s chest and back began to emit a radiant light. A majestic aura seemed to accept the transformation of his body, shimmering intensely.
-Thud.
Fernandez, with a pained expression, propped himself on the floor before collapsing. The aura enveloping the sanctuary slowly faded.
Zephis and Marco looked down at Fernandez with bewildered expressions.
“Success… right?”
“It seems like it was successful…”
Marco quickly checked Fernandez’s breathing. It was faint, but present.
“Breathing and pulse are normal, Brother Zephis.”
“Ugh…”
If there are no symptoms like limbs melting, grotesque organs growing, death, or madness after drinking from the grail, the Diemonica Baptism is considered a success. Provided sanity returns.
The expulsion of bodily waste and the appearance of a halo signified the success of the Diemonica Baptism. But why…
“Why is his body still the same?”
“Hmm… Perhaps because his body was already inhabited by the Lord, it has immunity to weaker blessings?”
“Being this frail…”
Objectively, Fernandez’s body wasn’t what one would call ‘frail.’ A bastard child despised in the farmlands wouldn’t have survived if he were weak.
With good nutrition and strong lineage, his robust frame, honed through years of abuse and survival efforts, was quite impressive.
But that’s from a commoner’s perspective. Zephis judged Fernandez with the eyes of a seasoned Diemonica.
“Anyway, there’s no case of being cast out after a successful baptism.”
“Especially since he’s an apostle chosen by the Lord. That can’t happen.”
Zephis carefully lifted Fernandez and carried him out of the baptismal sanctuary. Marco quickly made the sign of the cross and followed.
The bell announcing the birth of a new Diemonica echoed through the St. Bartholomew Monastery.
The warm sunlight fell equally on the damp and secretive Dragonsting Fortress. Fernandez slowly opened his eyes to the morning prayer bell.
He had been meditating cross-legged on his bed. Not even basic modern magic, let alone dark magic, could manifest in this body.
Since the Diemonica Baptism, the divine power flowing through his veins rejected all magic. Every attempt to create a circuit ended in failure.
-Starting to regret it now?
‘You know what they say? [What a mage believes is possible, will be. But what a mage declares impossible, is more likely to happen.]’
-So, how do you plan to bypass the divine blessing and create a magic circuit?
‘Magical artifacts are abundant all over the world.’
Divine spells and blessings operate on a completely different axis from magic. They grant strong immunity not just to hellish magic, but to natural magic as well.
Thus, Fernandez, now an apostle of God, had effectively lost all his magic.
‘Look at what I gained instead, Faijashi.’
Fernandez observed his body, brimming with power. Externally, little had changed. But the output generated by the divine energy flowing through him was immense.
-Crunch.
Fernandez crushed the wooden bedpost as he looked at Faijashi.
-You plan to confront real demons with brute strength?
‘Foolish.’
“Ugh.”
Fernandez stretched lightly and dressed. His limbs were stiff from maintaining the same posture all night. He smiled at Faijashi.
‘Strength is just a tool. The stronger the tool, the better.’
-Good. So the price for losing magic is mere physical power? The former master of arcane arts, willingly giving up mysticism for brute strength?
‘Faijashi, this is where our difference lies.’
Fernandez found Faijashi’s reaction amusing. Despite sharing the same memories and experiences, the mere difference in their physical forms had made them entirely different people.
‘In our past life, we weren’t followers of magic. Magic followed us. Magic was just a tool, and I was quite good at using it. That’s all there is to it.’
Just. Fernandez frowned as he opened the door and stepped outside.
Just that he didn’t quite like his fellow Diemonica comrades.
-Whoosh!
-Crash!!
“Not bad, Brother Fabiano!”
“Brother Sergio!! Be careful!”
“Hahaha!!”
Two giants, standing 2 meters tall, their upper bodies exposed under the brilliant sunlight, clashed with wooden swords.
