Hearing this, Bishop Daryl's expression relaxed considerably.
He leaned back, resting against the back of his seat.
The ageless, bald bishop savored the warm red tea while extending his chubby fingers towards the ring on Annan's hand.
"The Sacred Marks are not something complicated or bizarre; you can simply understand them as the 'vessels' used by priests," he explained.
"Let's start from the beginning. We, the 'clergy,' or using the ancient term, 'holy officers,' do not need metal vessels to carry curses because we are different from you Transcendents; we do not take curses into our bodies."
At this point, Bishop Daryl's expression grew slightly more serious.
"This is because, from the level of 'bishop' upward, almost all clergy do not meet good ends—we always die in one nightmare or another.
