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“Truly, it must be the Lord’s grace. How is it that you’ve come to this place at such an hour…!”

Thomas opened his arms wide, delighting in Jinseong’s visit.

His face wore a bright smile, bearing the joy of a shepherd rejoicing over a lamb, and the demeanor of a host welcoming a guest amidst festivities.

Thomas was genuinely happy.

And in response to that joy, Jinseong smiled back.

“How could I not come when there’s someone to guide the way?”

Thomas radiated his brightness to those around him, warming, uplifting, making them smile and spreading it repeatedly, brightening the world. Jinseong, too, approached him step by step, wearing a sun-like smile.

Park Jinseong’s face reflected innocence.

The purity held by children.

A smile untouched by the burdens of adulthood.

A bright laugh that seemed to come from a heart overflowing with genuine joy.

Jinseong moved forward bashfully, like a child participating in an event, but there was an air of anticipation about him.

Holding something unknown tightly.

Swoosh—

Thump.

Thud.

In Jinseong’s hand was a rope.

A peculiar rope, as if beads were strung on it, resembling a rope with dumplings stuffed inside.

With every step he took forward, round objects bounced along the length of the rope, exuding an inexplicable eeriness. Moreover, it felt like it was producing some strange noise apart from the bouncing sound.

Thud—

Thump.

Dragging the unknown object, Jinseong reached in front of Thomas.

He smiled brightly and stretched out his hand.

It was an offer to shake hands.

However, Thomas did not reciprocate.

He merely shook his head with an awkward smile, holding a hint of reproach in his gaze while looking at Jinseong.

Whoosh!

Thomas jabbed the site of his wound with his ring finger and spoke.

“Jinseong Park. I enjoy shaking hands with people.”

“Is that so?”

“What is a handshake? It speaks of goodwill, shows that there are no weapons in hand, and conveys the intention to do no harm. Furthermore, it allows us to press our palms together, share our warmth, and leave marks born from holy traces, bestowing blessings upon each other. Such a wonderful act, isn’t it?”

Slowly, he drew blood from his hand.

The sight resembled droplets defying gravity, falling toward the sky.

As it fell, the drop converged into a sphere the size of a bead, fiercely spinning and transforming into a disk shape. Finally, it became a wide, thin ring with a space formed in the center.

Thomas slipped the ring onto his finger and began spinning it.

Like an Indian warrior using a chakram.

“But shaking hands with something that isn’t human always invites calamity. A handshake with an evil spirit defiles the soul, and one with a wicked demon signifies tainting of the body. The unclean climbs the arms, spreading its corruption; and shaking hands with a corpse transfers the illness born from the corpse’s particles—both are undeniably tainted.”

“That makes sense.”

“Now then, Jinseong Park. How is it that I feel the presence of a corpse’s particles in the hand you extended?”

Thomas looked at him as if he might throw a chakram at any moment.

“Reverend, the reason lies in the fact that your handshake earlier carried the scent of blood.”

Jinseong replied to the inquiry straightforwardly.

Just like you before.

Just like the thoughts you harbored; I am nothing more than that.

Thomas chuckled at such a bold retort.

A hazy, fog-like smile appeared.

But even if it was not as bright as the sun-like smile, it certainly carried an emotion.

An emotion stemming from goodwill.

“Then, Jinseong Park, you must be here as a guest.”

“Is that so?”

“To enter with evil intent makes one an enemy; to come with troubled thoughts makes one a lamb; and to come with a good heart is to be a welcome guest.”

Thomas halted the spinning of the blood-made chakram.

Instead, he condensed the blood back into the shape of a bead and fitted it between his fingers.

“Human actions stem from the heart. Even if one has the face of the Creator, if there lies the heart of a murderer inside, it will be evil. Conversely, even if one has the face of a demon from hell, if they possess the heart of a delicate boy, it is akin to becoming a guest.”

With the bead perched on his fingers, Thomas began to alternate between stretching and squeezing it before completely vanishing it.

The act resembled a magician hiding an object in the palm of their hand.

“Welcome. I shall joyfully receive you as a guest with heartfelt delight.”

“Thank you.”

Listening to Thomas’s words, Jinseong smiled gently.

“If I’m a guest, then what I brought must also be a guest, right?”

“Haha! Indeed! Since the guest brought it, it’s part of the guest’s entourage, and the guest’s entourage is also a guest!”

Thomas laughed at Jinseong’s words and began to guide him.

It was a truly inviting gesture, as if leading a guest to their seat.

“The guest you brought may be placed here.”

He made Jinseong set his belongings on a memo board resting atop a folding chair for worship.

Once everything Jinseong carried was neatly arranged in a line, he led him to the chair where William was sitting.

Creak.

He turned the chair to face Jinseong and William as if urging them to greet each other.

“Ugh…!”

William’s eyes widened.

He was confused seeing someone he never expected to find in this place and astonished that it was not the lunatic psycho Thomas who stood before him; a glimmer of hope flickered within him, wondering if this person might save him.

His expression changed continuously as he locked eyes with Jinseong, sending him a pleading gaze.

A look that desperately begged him to untie the ropes.

Yet, Jinseong did not respond to William’s wish.

He neither loosened the ropes nor encouraged him, nor did he tend to his wounds.

He showed no surprise at the trickling drops of blood from the gaping hole nor felt anything unusual about being tied up.

“Oops. I suppose if I lean too much, it would cause trouble. Like a blank canvas, any small stain could stand out.”

“Haha, even at a young age, you possess remarkable knowledge. Your consideration is very meticulous. Truly impressive!”

He acted as if the firmly bound William were merely an ordinary scene in daily life.

“Let’s see… This is quite an effective binding technique. It seems to be infused with magic, perhaps one used during witch hunts… though it feels slightly different. Is it a modification of magic from the Anglican Church?”

No, to Jinseong, William was merely an ordinary element in the scenery of life.

Just as one might not notice the mundane shifting in their surroundings, William was merely that, nothing more.

Even if his hands and feet were punctured.

Even if he was tightly bound to the chair.

Even if his resistance was significantly diminished.

Even if his body had become pure and pristine.

Even if he had become a body, clear of blemish and vulnerable to outside manipulations.

To Jinseong, it was of no consequence.

Rather, the magic binding William’s body held more value.

“That’s correct. It was a spell created during the rule of Elizabeth I.”

“Elizabeth I… That means it was used to capture Catholic nobles and parishioners.”

“You know well. That’s correct. It’s a tragic spell used to bind the brothers of faith.”

“While it’s quite a fine spell… the tragic history attached to it would have led to its disuse, ultimately leaving it to languish only in records.”

“Haha, even at a young age, you are well-versed in the flow of magic. Indeed, it remains only in the records, having decayed in some corner of the archive, used only because it was utilized to massacre the brothers of faith.”

Jinseong inspected the magic employed to bind William’s body with care. He evaluated the spell while Thomas looked at Jinseong with a gaze full of pride.

“Ugh…!”

William seethed with rage, observing the lighthearted conversation between the two.

“Ugh!”

Disregarding the exchange, he yelled silently to them—untie me, you bastards—!!

He fumed internally, his frustration boiling over as if eager to sever the bonds tying him.

“Witch hunts and brothers of faith be damned! Just untie this rope, you bastards!”

However, such minimal effort would never loosen the bindings.

The restraints confining his body were far too sturdy for someone with ordinary strength to escape.

It was a binding so firm that even well-trained Catholic nobles couldn’t slip free, and many who had hung in its grasp met their end with broken necks.

There was no way William, with merely a normal level of fitness, could break free.

“How intriguing.”

And even more pitiful was that William’s thrashing garnered no attention from the two.

As Jinseong observed William’s actions or his desperate attempts, he offered no focus.

His gaze remained solely fixed on the magic that enveloped William’s body.

He looked with interest at the gaping wounds on William’s body, the pure and pristine sensation flowing from him, and sparkled with curiosity at the binding magic that held him.

“Truly, it ignites envy within me.”

“Your attitude toward learning is commendable. I have high hopes for the future of Jinseong Park.”

“I wish to discuss the magic of this binding.”

“Haha, welcome! The Church has not been stingy in imparting knowledge for ages. I will gladly share it with you.”

The two heartily conversed, leaving William right there.

Truly strange, yet…

That was precisely the essence of being a shaman.

 

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