Four days later.
Mondo.
The morning mist had yet to disperse, and the newly risen sun gilded everything ahead with a faint golden edge.
In the distance, the city walls loomed in and out of view through the hazy fog.
This was a relatively small human city-state on the southern continent, with a population of roughly three thousand.
A moat encircled it, cooking smoke curled lazily into the air, and the outlines of a city had already begun to take shape.
Yuhran and Milialde approached at an unhurried pace, riding their horses.
"At last, we're here."
A gentle breeze brushed past them, carrying the fresh scent of distant wheat fields.
Yuhran raised a hand to shade his eyes and squinted toward the lightly armored patrol soldiers ahead, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.
Adventuring with just the two of them wasn't bad, but it ultimately lacked a sense of bustle.
And besides, the forty-odd Unified Empire gold coins they'd obtained earlier had been completely useless so far.
Where there were more people, there would be more trade—and perhaps a chance to see other supernatural items.
As they drew near to the city-state and crossed the creaking wooden bridge, the two dismounted.
After paying two copper coins as an entrance fee, the cityscape of a thousand years ago unfolded before them in full view.
Standing at the city gate, Yuhran looked around and clicked his tongue.
Unlike the beautified scenes from animation, the ground here was nothing but yellow earth and mud.
The air was filled with a strange stench, a mixture of livestock dung and the aroma of food.
Only in the far distance could one see houses built of stone.
It reminded him of the countryside from his past life.
Sure enough, anime and reality were two entirely different pictures.
Yuhran gently shook his head, as though some pleasant illusion had just been shattered.
Milialde led the horses through the gate, and the moment she entered, she noticed the disappointment in Yuhran's eyes.
Tilting her head, she asked, "What is it? You don't like this place?"
Truthfully, she didn't like it much either. She preferred cleanliness and quiet, but she couldn't resist Yuhran's insistence on coming here.
"Mm." Yuhran nodded, his voice muffled.
As he responded, a gust of wind swept up the dust from the ground and sent it straight into his nose.
He covered his face and coughed twice, resignation and helplessness coloring his tone.
"Whether I like it or not doesn't matter anymore. Let's go to the church first."
The forest was still more comfortable—there were monsters, sure, but at least the air was fresh.
Decision made. Once everything here was taken care of, they would leave immediately and not stay a moment longer.
The two quickened their pace and headed straight for the church.
…
The local branch of the Goddess Church stood before them, a solemn and dignified white building.
At its peak was an emblem with wings, which looked especially sacred against the blue sky.
Inside, a neatly dressed, middle-aged priest studied the letter Yuhran handed over, pondering for a moment.
He rubbed the paper between his fingers, his deep gaze fixed on Yuhran as if confirming his identity.
Though he couldn't quite understand why someone who seemed to hail from the Central Continent would appear here—or why he wished to join the church—the Goddess was always tolerant.
Aside from monsters, she treated everyone equally, even villains.
With that thought, the priest carefully folded the letter, slipped it into the pocket over his chest, and nodded gently.
"Since you were recommended by Deacon Hall, there's no problem. Thank you very much for helping him during this mission."
"Deacon Hall is one of our veteran clergy here. If he had perished and monsters began causing trouble nearby again, I don't even dare imagine how dire the situation would have become."
Although the priest's seniority exceeded Hall's, his abilities were lacking.
That was precisely why he remained here, handling logistical duties.
Turning around, he waved for them to follow.
"Now then, please come with me. Gaining mastery over the Goddess's magic is very simple—one need only have faith in the Goddess."
"If the Goddess responds to you, you will receive her blessing. After that, with the aid of the holy scripture, you will be able to use Goddess magic."
Yuhran nodded slightly. It was more or less what he'd already heard.
He followed quickly, a trace of doubt lingering in his mind, and asked, "And if the Goddess doesn't respond to me?"
Hearing the question, the priest turned his head, though his footsteps didn't slow.
His gaze swept over Milialde first, pausing for a brief moment on her pointed ears, before settling on Yuhran. In a gentle tone, he explained:
"If there is no response, it means your aptitude is insufficient."
"The aptitude referred to here is not talent, but one's virtuous qualities—such as kindness, justice, and courage."
"The Goddess chooses only such people as her followers."
"Of course, people are not immutable. These virtues can also be cultivated after the fact."
"For someone like you, Lord Yuhran, there shouldn't be any problem."
Is that so? Even with the priest saying that, Yuhran still felt a little uneasy.
He'd previously been quite keen on wreaking havoc on that island nation—did that really count as justice and kindness?
Whatever. He'd just see how it went. At the very least, his original intentions hadn't changed.
As they went deeper into the church, the space suddenly opened up, as though they'd entered an entirely new world.
A spacious, immaculate courtyard came into view.
The fragrance of flowers washed over them, diluting the foul air of the city.
At the center of the courtyard stood a stone statue, roughly two meters tall. It depicted a winged elven woman.
Though weathered on the surface, her delicate features were still discernible.
Her hands were clasped before her chest in prayer, wings spread wide, her expression one of boundless compassion.
—This was the image of the Creator Goddess as passed down within the church.
Milialde frowned slightly, thinking to herself:
"An elf…? This is my first time seeing that. I wonder if the Goddess even really exists."
Walking ahead, the priest led them through a corridor and into another building, where he suddenly came to a stop.
Yuhran halted as well, casting a glance at Milialde, but offering no explanation.
Though he knew many things, he couldn't explain how he knew them.
Better to avoid unnecessary trouble.
"Go on," the priest said, raising his hand and pointing to a holy tome floating in midair ahead of them.
"This is as far as I can take you. What comes next depends on you."
"That is one of the sacred relics the Goddess left behind when she descended two hundred years ago, used to screen potential believers."
"As long as you touch it, you'll know whether you possess the aptitude to wield the Goddess's magic."
"One thing to note: when you touch it, you will undergo a process known as questioning the heart. There's no danger, but some of the content can be quite private."
"If you don't wish for others to overhear unintentionally…"
Before he could finish, his gaze had already shifted to Milialde.
"May I ask, Miss Elf, what is your relationship with him?"
"..."
Milialde remained silent, not answering. Her emerald eyes were fixed on the floating holy tome, a complex expression flickering within them.
The priest nodded in understanding. He then took several steps back and considerately closed the door to the building.
Seeing this, Yuhran took a deep breath, trying to calm his taut nerves.
Questioning the heart, huh? It certainly fit the stereotypical image of a god selecting believers.
Having come this far, retreat was no longer an option.
Fortunately, what he had to face was only a book—and not the Goddess herself.
With that thought, he steadied his mind and began walking toward the holy tome, step by step.
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