The Shepherds Are Dense – Chapter 1051

Chapter 1050
Anyone who doesn’t fawn over him is a god.
When Eivass summoned Alistair, Sherlock already understood his resolve.
—It was a determination to err on the side of caution, never to let go of anything.
Sherlock knew Eivass well.
Eivass was not a reckless or violent person. If Eivass had made such a decision, it would mean that there were more pressing secrets behind it than he had already revealed.
Sherlock was curious about what those might be. But he would not waste precious time at this moment.
To put it bluntly… they were just Children of the Moon anyway.
They were originally monsters that preyed on humans, and they could only hide their identities and live in the Iris Kingdom by usurping power. Moreover, as Children of the Moon who worshipped the Blood Heavenly Envoy, this batch of Children of the Moon was even the most aggressive and predatory.
Let alone a few Count-level Children of the Moon—what would happen if they were all killed?
Therefore, Sherlock briefly sorted out the information, wrote down the reasoning process and key data on paper, and then got into the carriage with Eivass and Alistair.
He even glanced at the time before leaving.
It was now two-ten in the morning.
—The total information of the second batch had not yet arrived, and Eivass and Sherlock had already set off quietly.
They got into a carriage protected by the Duke’s crest and sped through the silent streets. Even though the Children of the Moon were used to hunting at night, they did not dare to attack the Duke’s Mansion’s carriage.
They were monsters who called themselves “embryos of perfect beings” and considered themselves nobler than humans, living by preying on humans… yet now they were fleeing in disarray under the deterrence of mortal power. This was as ridiculous as the Children of the Moon being able to command other humans through mortal power.
They were too integrated into society—they had new strengths, but also new weaknesses.
In the depths of the night, apart from a few startled Children of the Moon who transformed into bats and flitted away, almost no one could be seen. The spacious street seemed to be swallowed by darkness, and the carriage sped past like a shadow.
The curtains outside were tightly drawn to prevent anyone from seeing who was inside the carriage. And the carriage was by no means pitch black—the nobles of the Iris Kingdom disliked new and common electrical appliances like electric lights. The light source inside the carriage was a much more expensive alchemical light source. It was a byproduct of failed “artificial sun” technology.
Sherlock sized up Alistair, his expression somewhat peculiar.
The wild, unrestrained, wicked smile on the face of this black-haired little girl, who was only twelve or thirteen years old, inexplicably gave him a sense of familiarity.
It was as if he had seen it somewhere before…
Her limbs were slender, fair, and fragile. She was wearing a white robe in the style of a Hrasal Empire priestess. Her long hair cascaded like silk, and her vermilion pupils gave one a feeling of being drunk.
“What is… this situation?”
He calmly quipped, “Have you finally crossed the forbidden line and started making summoned creatures out of living people?”
Sherlock had seen Eivass seal Earthbound Spirits into cards before. It was a Mystical Art he had never heard of, and it felt like an ability from The Path of Beauty, but Eivass was an Extraordinary of the Path of Devotion and Transcendence at the time.
At that time, Sherlock suspected that Eivass would eventually seal people into Tarot Cards.
“What are you talking about?” Eivass patted Alistair’s head and said calmly, “It’s not like you haven’t seen her before.”
“…I’ve seen her?”
“This is Alistair, my other half.”
Eivass looked at Sherlock and said calmly, “You can consider her another me…”
Alistair, who had been twirling her long hair with her fingers, said with a smile, “You can also consider me another him—how about it, Great Detective?”
Hearing the familiar teasing tone of “Great Detective”… Sherlock was finally able to determine what this thing was. In the past, Eivass would always tease him like this.
“…You’re truly a madman.”
Sherlock shook his head repeatedly. “Splitting off another self and turning it into your own summoned creature… it sounds like…”
He stopped speaking at this point.
What would it sound like?
Hengwo? Crown Lord? Great Philosopher?
…Realizing that the great figures above had all done similar things, Sherlock suddenly dared not speak.
At this moment, Alistair suddenly sensed something and looked at the ceiling of the carriage. Eivass then noticed and also turned his gaze upward. At this time, Sherlock still hadn’t felt anything was wrong… he only caught the subtle curve above the carriage through their gazes.
—Someone was on top.
Realizing this, Sherlock immediately became nervous.
He tightly gripped his walking stick—it was a staff sword he had made in Eagle Cape Village, and it was still his most reliable weapon. After Sherlock was placed under house arrest in the Duke’s Mansion, it was taken away… and before Eivass arrived, the Duke had returned it to Sherlock.
But Eivass and Alistair were not nervous.
Eivass even reached out and pulled aside the curtain, calling out to the outside, “Do you have to hang outside?”
“If there’s a thunderstorm, you might serve as a lightning rod,”
Alistair added with a smile.
“…Are you saying I’m prone to being struck by lightning?”
Arsen’s helpless voice came from outside.
He turned around, flexibly drilled into the carriage from the top, and sat beside Sherlock, bringing with him the damp chill of the night, causing Sherlock’s face to immediately show a look of disgust as he shifted his butt to the corner.
“Why are you here?”
Sherlock asked.
“Shouldn’t I be here?”
Arsen retorted.
“No,” Sherlock said ruthlessly, “you’re just a drag.”
“Oh, dear…”
Arsen said with a bitter face, “Have some sympathy for me. My old man told me to come and help, so as not to shame the family… For this, he even gave me this.”
As he spoke, Arsen lifted his coat and showed the others the short blue-gray sword he wore at his waist.
“Oh…”
All three of them exclaimed in unison, clearly recognizing it.
“The Sword of Vendome.”
Sherlock murmured, “You were even given something like this?”
“Angeleke is, to some extent, the current head of the family,”
Arsen said discontentedly, “What’s wrong with me taking it?”
Alistair couldn’t help but say, “Salastro—this sword is called that, right?”
“…That’s right.”
Arsen looked up in surprise, “You actually know?”
He had heard the conversation inside the carriage while he was lying on top of it, so he knew the true identity of this little girl—a clone of Pope Eivass.
This made Arsen, who understood some theological stories, extremely reverent.
According to his understanding of mythology, those who could do such a thing were the greatest of the great!
What did this mean?
It meant that Eivass was definitely the future God!
If he could win the favor of the future God, perhaps he could even get a position as an apostle! His soul would not be “recycled” but would achieve eternal life after death…
If anyone saw someone like this, why wouldn’t they fawn over him? They were already gods!