The blue-haired nun marshaled her sisters to tend to the wounded soldiers, their hands glowing with healing light.
Simon, ever the opportunist, seized the moment to peddle mana-restoring potions and an assortment of medical scrolls to the bustling nuns.
The church was a whirlwind of activity.
The poor were shooed to the side hall—some sipping thin porridge, others gawking at the chaos from a safe distance.
Light slipped away from the crowd, finding solace on a patterned bench tucked in a quiet corner of the church.
He closed his eyes, feigning sleep, but his mind churned.
The scene he’d just witnessed gnawed at him.
He couldn’t reconcile the image of Noi, the witch, wielding such pure, radiant light.
It defied everything he thought he knew.
Noi, oblivious to his turmoil, continued her work, channeling healing spells into the wounded.
A soldier, noting her lack of a nun’s habit, still mistook her for one of the clergy.
“Thank you, Sister,” he murmured gratefully.
Tina, the red-haired priestess, trailed Noi like a shadow, her brows knitted in suspicion.
Surely, Noi’s efficiency stemmed from a deep mastery of divine magic.
That had to be it.
Yet, as Tina observed, her confidence wavered.
Noi’s technique was raw, almost barbaric, like a novice who’d never touched sacred law.
She shoved light energy into wounds with brute force, and the chaotic energy within fled as if meeting its natural predator.
It was nothing like the delicate, calculated dance Tina had seen her teachers and the bishop perform against chaos energy—a battle of wits and precision.
Noi’s approach was a blunt hammer where finesse was expected.
Not only did she purge chaos energy with startling speed, but Noi’s magic also healed with uncanny efficiency.
Where several nuns together struggled to mend a single soldier, Noi sprinkled a touch of magic, and flesh knitted itself back together, sprouting fresh tissue as wounds closed.
Tina sought out Chenxi, the blue-haired nun and her younger sister, who managed the church’s daily affairs.
She was organizing the wounded with practiced calm.
“Chenxi, have you ever seen that white-haired girl before? How have I never heard of someone this powerful in our order?”
Chenxi shook her head, her blue locks swaying.
“No idea. I’d remember a face that striking—it’s my first time seeing her too. At first, I thought she was just some hungry waif. Didn’t expect this. Don’t overthink it, Tina.”
Frustrated, Tina puffed out her cheeks and turned to the soldier captain who’d mentioned Noi’s name.
“You called her Lady Noi? Who is she?”
“First time meeting her today,” the captain replied.
“But she’s my brothers’ savior now.”
Tina hissed through her teeth.
‘Fine. I’ll ask her myself.’
Curiosity burned in her chest, spurring her into action.
Noi, drained from squeezing out the last of her mana, felt exhaustion settle into her bones.
She was about to charm Simon into letting her owe him a mana potion when Tina’s face loomed close, brimming with questions.
“Miss Noi! Where did you perform your divine blessing ceremony? Who was your teacher? What’s your rank?”
The barrage caught Noi off guard.
Her snow-white hair seemed to bristle as her eyes darted around, searching for an escape.
‘What do I say? I don’t even know what she’s talking about!’
Her mind stalled, gears grinding to a halt.
No excuse came to her.
Resigned, Noi sighed softly, ready to admit she had no faith in any god.
But before she could speak, a deafening crash echoed from the church’s skylight.
Shards of glass rained down, tinkling like brittle rain.
The crowd gasped.
Knights gripped their spears and shields, advancing cautiously to the front hall, ready for an attack.
“Relax, it’s just me,” came a voice from the haze.
As the dust settled, an elderly man in a resplendent red robe stood atop the sea of shattered glass.
His attire marked him unmistakably as the church’s bishop.
“Bishop, did you have to return like that? You scared me half to death!” Tina snapped, scratching her red hair in exasperation.
Chenxi, ever diligent, pulled a notebook from her pocket and scribbled with her finger:
‘Star Calendar 889, October 22—Bishop shattered the skylight. Replacing it will cost 3,999 star coins. Bishop, your new phone will have to wait until next month’s church stipend.’
“Oh, it’s fine… I don’t mind!” the bishop said with a carefree wave, though his weathered face betrayed his dismay.
Noi, seeing the crowd’s attention shift, slipped into the throng, hoping to vanish.
But the bishop’s sharp eyes caught her.
“Hey! White-haired girl, don’t run off! Come with me.”
‘Caught. By the bishop himself.’ Noi’s heart sank.
‘I’m not a believer. Are they going to brand me a heretic?’
Knights politely blocked her path with their shields, and Noi felt tears prick her eyes.
From his shadowed bench, Lyte watched Noi’s every move.
‘Is she running because she knows her light magic doesn’t come from proper faith?’ he wondered.
‘But if she’s aware it’s unorthodox, why risk exposure to save these soldiers? As a world-ending witch, shouldn’t she revel in their deaths?’
Puzzled, Lyte saw Noi led to the restricted back courtyard by the bishop.
Activating a hero’s stealth skill, he followed undetected.
‘A good hero must master the art of assassination.’
Moments later, a young man with flame-red hair strode into the church.
The soldier captain at the door recognized him instantly, bowing low before being gently pulled upright.
“Seen a white-haired girl? Or the bishop?” the youth asked.
The captain relayed their whereabouts, and Xing Chen clapped his shoulder in thanks before darting toward the back courtyard like an arrow.
“Hey! You can’t go in there!” Tina shouted, lunging for him but grasping only air.
“He’s fine. He’s the bishop’s friend,” the captain called, stopping Tina from summoning help.
***
‘Sunset fruit, holy tree leaves… everything’s here. Wait—where’s the Heart of the Ocean?’
Sunlight streamed through the grand glass windows, casting a golden carpet across the hall leading to the altar.
At the altar, the red-robed bishop rummaged frantically for the materials needed for a divine blessing ceremony.
Everything was in place except the Heart of the Ocean, the conduit for communing with the divine.
Above, a statue of the goddess Afiya gazed down, her serene face blessing all who entered.
A shadow flashed at the entrance.
Xing Chen burst into the hall, eyes scanning every corner for the white-haired girl.
Finding no trace of her, he turned to the bishop.
“Pria, where’s Noi? Don’t tell me…”
Seeing the bishop’s mournful expression, Xing Chen’s heart clenched, fearing the church had discovered Noi and spirited her away.
Guilt gnawed at him.
“What’s with that face?” the bishop said, waving a hand.
“No, Noi’s fine. I’m just mourning the skylight repairs and my delayed phone purchase.”
“Then where is she?”
“I had a nun take her to the Three Angels’ statues to see which one she resonates with.”
Xing Chen frowned.
“Don’t churches usually prepare materials for all three angels to test resonance during the ceremony?”
Pria gave an embarrassed chuckle.
“Sorry, our budget’s a bit… tight.”
Xing Chen rolled his eyes.
“Fine. Since Noi’s not here, I’ll report on the mission first.”
“Are you leaving this little town after?” Pria asked cautiously.
“Things haven’t been calm lately.”
He didn’t dare demand Xing Chen stay.
A humble bishop was no match for an immortal like him, whose boundless future stretched far beyond this place.
“Maybe not,” Xing Chen replied, wrinkling his nose.
He sat cross-legged on the sunlit carpet.
Pria glanced at the flame-haired youth, surprised.
Xing Chen’s eyes were downcast, his expression unreadable.
They’d known each other since Pria was a boy, and while Pria had aged into an old man, Xing Chen remained unchanged.
His memories, too, were selective—only what mattered stayed with him.
But one thing about Xing Chen never wavered: when his answers were vague, they often meant yes, I want to, or I will.
It was an unspoken promise.
Pria raised an eyebrow and asked, “Well, well. The empire’s guardian pausing in a small town? Someone or something you care about?”
Xing Chen spread his palm, sunlight pooling in the blurred lines.
His life line, meant to be endless, was oddly short.
“A bit of both, I suppose.”
At last, Pria unearthed the long-neglected Heart of the Ocean from a dusty corner.
It had been ages since the town needed a divine blessing ceremony for a nun, monk, or knight.
“Where were we on that mission talk?” Pria asked.
Xing Chen sighed.
“The goblin camp’s likely a noble’s site for producing shadow spider venom. I told you the noble’s name earlier—pass it to the Demon Suppression Bureau when you can.”
Pria scratched his bald head.
“Er, I might’ve forgotten the name. Old age, bad memory.”
Xing Chen gave a wry smile.
“No luck then. I burned a bit of memory shifting back to my qilin form. The noble’s name got lost in the flames.”
“Anything else?”
“Yeah. I found an aberration outside the camp.”
Xing Chen skipped the details of his encounter, only noting its existence.
The aberration had spoken in riddles, and he doubted the bishop would understand the words of the Sin Domain’s second captain.
Still, those words had tipped the scales, convincing him to stay in Wagner Town.