An Unlikely Alliance and a Mortal Revelation

That’s fine, but I must ask, your Hymn Church wields such immense influence that you can even secure Gallic citizenship?

Yelica Cooper folded her arms across her chest, a proud smirk gracing her lips. “Hmph hmph hmph. The Hymn Church has forged collaborations with governments across various nations, all in our tireless efforts to combat cultists. You truly mustn’t underestimate our network, you know.”

Yodel Finn chuckled in agreement, yet a deeper curiosity about the Hymn Church began to stir within him.

Drawing upon his years of experience devouring novels, he knew that churches often presented a facade of pristine glory, only to conceal corruption and unspeakable deeds behind closed doors. This time, he intended to leverage Yelica Cooper to uncover the true nature of the Church.

If the Hymn Church adherents proved to be genuinely devout, faithfully upholding their tenets and acting as guardians of order, much like the God of Death, then Yodel Finn would be more than willing to forge an alliance with them.

Conversely, if it turned out to be the type of church where priests harbored unsavory affections for young boys, or where nuns surpassed even succubi in their seductive corruption, Yodel Finn would be forced to gravely reconsider his association with the institution.

“Yelica, tell me, from your perspective, does the Hymn Church truly uphold its tenets—things like protecting the weak and punishing chaos? Do not lie; this is a direct command.”

Yelica Cooper, who had been about to take a sip of her drink, froze, the cup halting just inches from her lips. “Why the sudden inquiry?”

“Very well. Since you wish to know, I have nothing to conceal. From my vantage point, the Church adheres to its doctrines for the most part, though occasionally, to achieve its objectives, it resorts to less-than-honorable methods—such as that time they pried into your memories.”

Yodel Finn nodded subtly. It appeared that, at the very least, the Hymn Church in Landen City comprised sensible individuals who could be trusted.

“Hmm, that’s good to hear. Furthermore, I’d like to understand the Church’s stance on the Immortality Society.”

Yelica Cooper offered a smile that bordered on chilling:

“The Immortality Society once permeated the entire Gallic Republic, standing as its largest cult. However, the Gallic diocese of the Hymn Church pursued them relentlessly for three centuries, leaving only scattered remnants to flee to the Three Island Kingdom.

Such is our unwavering stance on the Immortality Society, and indeed, on all cults.”

Observing Yodel Finn momentarily stunned, Yelica Cooper felt a rare surge of triumph, as if she had finally gained an advantage, and a profound sense of satisfaction washed over her.

Then, to her astonishment, Yodel Finn slammed his fist onto the table and abruptly rose to his feet. “Isn’t this a stroke of luck? I, too, intend to annihilate the Immortality Society!”

“What? Are you cultists truly resorting to infighting?”

“Who are you calling a dog? No… more importantly, who are you calling a cultist?”

Yodel Finn settled back into his chair, taking a moment to rephrase his thoughts:

“Here’s a proposal: let us join forces to dismantle the Immortality Society. All credit and spoils shall be yours; my sole condition is to personally deliver the killing blow to their leader. What do you say?”

“What exactly did this Immortality Society do to incur the wrath of a God-Chosen like you? Did they steal your family’s grain?”

“It’s merely a task from my employer. Simply tell me if you agree or not.”

Yelica Cooper spread her hands in exasperation. “Do I truly have a choice in the matter of willingness? Wouldn’t it be simpler to just command me with the curse to assist you?”

“The nature of it is entirely different. I have no intention of binding you for life with this curse. Once it’s lifted, I still hope to maintain a cooperative relationship with you.”

‘He’s actually considering lifting the curse?’ Yelica Cooper murmured, her voice barely audible even to herself.

“Alright then, if you insist.” Yelica Cooper, mimicking Yodel Finn’s earlier gesture, slammed her fist onto the table and sprang to her feet. “Let’s go dismember these cultists together!”

This was the first time Yodel Finn had witnessed Yelica Cooper display such spirit and vigor since she had been afflicted by the curse.

“Send them to meet the Holy Light!”

“Send them to meet the God of Death!”

“Oh, and speaking of which,” Yodel Finn interjected, a sudden thought striking him. “You still owe me ten gold pounds. You remember our weekly arrangement, don’t you?”

“You’re truly ruining the mood by asking for money right now! Moreover, our agreement dictates that you provide information and I provide payment. You haven’t yet informed me who is in mortal peril.”

“Oh? I’ve already imparted the information. Haven’t you realized it yet?” Yodel Finn extended a hand toward her, his face a clear unspoken demand for payment.

“You’ve already told me?” Yelica Cooper mused, replaying their earlier conversation in her mind, her expression shifting dramatically.

“Wait a moment, you can’t possibly be referring to me, can you? The one in mortal danger… is *me*?”

“Indeed. What else would you assume? Had I not intervened to prevent your prayer, you would have perished this very night.”

Yelica Cooper’s face paled, her voice trembling slightly. “Are you saying that if I hadn’t trusted you just now, I would have died tonight?”

“Precisely.”

Regardless of whether Yodel Finn was indeed a minion of a wicked deity, Yelica Cooper firmly believed in his ability to foresee death. If he claimed she had nearly died, then she truly had brushed perilously close to the brink.

It was crucial to remember that the thought of praying to the divine hadn’t just sprung up today; she had contemplated it for a long time. The mere realization that she had repeatedly flirted with the precipice of death sent cold sweat trickling down Yelica Cooper’s back.

“Don’t panic. You won’t face any immediate mortal danger. However, it’s imperative that you attend our weekly exchange punctually. Should the situation change, I’ll be able to notify you without delay.”

“This… so, in a sense, you are my savior?”

“What do you mean, ‘in a sense’? I unequivocally saved your life.”

“This… thank you. And, I apologize for that incident when I pried into your memories.”

Yelica Cooper retrieved her wallet, presenting it to Yodel Finn with both hands, a visibly pained expression etched on her face. “I’ve only brought this much; it’s all yours.”

Yodel Finn rarely witnessed such pliancy from Yelica Cooper. Even when faced with the dire threat of the curse, she had always maintained a defiant resolve.

He counted out ten gold pounds, tucked them into his pocket, and then returned Yelica Cooper’s wallet.

“A gentleman values wealth, yet acquires it through honorable means. If we agreed upon ten gold pounds, then ten gold pounds it shall be.”

Yelica Cooper tucked her wallet back into her nun’s habit, her mind abuzz with silent musings:

‘His conduct hardly seems characteristic of a wicked deity’s minion. Could I have truly misjudged him? The ability to foresee death certainly aligns with the identity of a God of Death’s Chosen. Does the God of Death truly exist…? Yet, that creature bears no resemblance to a benevolent deity. Should I truly place my trust in him?’

Despite the intermittent clashes, the meeting ultimately concluded on an amicable note.

The two bid farewell, and Yodel Finn, armed with the new intelligence, hastened towards “Mingketon” (TL Note: A place name, retaining pinyin as no official English translation is provided.), intending to procure another set of information regarding the Immortality Society.

Upon reflection, however, he realized he hadn’t encountered the God of Death in several days, and their recent conversation had raised numerous new questions about her. Consequently, he decided to seek her out first.

A problem immediately presented itself: it was always the God of Death who initiated contact with him, and he possessed no means of actively reaching out to her. How was he to proceed?

Could he simply shout, ‘God of Death, I need to speak with you!’ within his own mind?

“Hmm? What is it you require of me?”

A phantom, ethereal voice echoed.

“Holy hell!”

“Ah, I forgot to transform into a butterfly. My apologies for startling you once more.”