” Lukes’ compassionate expression gained a mysterious nuance in the candlelight of the prayer room: “Such an unpleasant incident will not happen again, please be at ease.” Naily still was not reassured, biting her lip: “But…” “You are safe now, the past is already past,” Lukes comforted her gently. Naily lowered her eyelashes, continuing to inquire: “I want to know about the last time… no, I want to know about that key. Why do I see things when I touch it…” She choked, unable to complete her sentence. “You can understand it as a prop carrying all the time and space of this world. Touching it will reveal memories related to yourself,” Lukes explained, standing backlit. He stood on the altar steps, silently watching Naily, an infinite sense of oppression emanating from him. As if the will of the entire temple was hidden behind him, with infinite power and wisdom ready to be unleashed, so heavy that the air became thin and constrained. The High Priest’s pressure withdrew, raising his hand as if about to speak and have Naily leave. “
But Naily was not intimidated; she calmly repeated: “All time and space?” Lukes seemed to narrow his eyes, the distorted firelight in his pupils dimming as his eyelashes pressed down. Evidently, she had caught a loophole in the High Priest’s words and spoke before he could: “I’ve always been curious why everything starts over again after the hero successfully defeats the Demon King. If this world is a collection of multiple overlapping time and space…”
Lukes stiffly interrupted her reasoning: “You only need to complete the task to achieve your wish. We do not think the reasons need explanation.” Naily was not surprised, nor did she force him to listen to her speculations, just rolling her eyes. Her questioning tone dripped with sarcasm: “Then let me ask about another matter. How did the Demon King manage to disguise himself as a hero? He even had his own information card on the system interface.”
“That was an accident,” Lukes repeated his previous excuse, pausing meaningfully, “We deeply apologize.” Naily laughed softly: “Is this all the Temple wants to explain to me?”
Avoiding other questions, giving me only irrelevant apologies, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, slowly pacing towards Lukes, closing the distance, fearlessly looking up at him: “I will not accept this.”
“Oh?” Lukes turned around, and for the first time, the lines of his face became clear in Nelly’s eyes. His eyes held a phosphorescent-like dim light, his deep features cold, exuding an almost naive confidence that seemed natural. “Regarding this point, we are very certain. All guides, especially you, number 1028, will always choose the world over the individual.”
He revealed an incredibly vivid yet chilling shallow smile: “Isn’t that right?”
In that instant, Nelly only wanted to dramatically tear apart the priest. He was not wrong; she deeply despised this unsettling feeling of being seen through.
Lukes then sought to ease the tense atmosphere. He slowly descended from the altar, minimizing the sense of superiority he had just created. His pale eyes gazed at Nelly, his tone gentle and kind: “Personally, I greatly admire your previous choices. Not everyone has such decisiveness and courage, and I am very grateful to you.”
Nelly tried to convince herself this was just another manipulation by this hypocritical priest. But she couldn’t help being slightly moved.
She needed such words to confirm that those dark and brutal moments were not in vain, to reassure herself that her choice was not wrong.
Lukes approached her, gently touching the top of her head with a finger dipped in holy water, speaking solemnly: “Being able to summon such a guide is Vierdia’s fortune.”
Nelly quickly glanced from beneath her eyelashes but did not directly meet the high priest’s eyes. Even though his words provided comfort, she disliked these pale eyes that could manipulate one’s mind and spirit. Because they were too clear, any hint of darkness approaching the shadows would become incredibly vivid.
She dared not even think about what she was deliberately avoiding.
“May the three goddesses bless you,” Lukes offered his blessing, and Nelly followed by taking her leave:
“Thank you for your explanation.” She paused, ultimately unable to resist, and added, “I hope there won’t be connection interruptions so frequently in the future.”
Lukes did not respond. Nelly was neither clear nor prepared to find out.
Walking out of the hall, the southern sun poured down.
Nelly involuntarily closed her eyes in the intense light, forcing herself to quicken her steps back to the well palace entrance. She had barely stood still when Melissa’s distinctly recognizable footsteps gradually approached: confident, large strides.
The silver-haired girl had changed into a brand new swordsman’s attire, and upon seeing Nelly, she called out: “I’ve become a swordsman approved by the goddess!” The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted not lowering her voice, nervously looking around.
Nelly smiled at her, but her mind wandered back and forth over the previous conversation. Dazed, she left Noen Palace, unable to come back to her senses for a long time.
Only when Melissa ran a circle around her, sweating profusely, and shook her that Nelly suddenly realized:
Karl was gone.
Even though Nali had a belly full of objections, facing the hero’s clear and determined gaze, all her excuses vanished in an instant. In front of him, Nali always felt inferior.
Melissa decided to go to other inns in the city to gather information, while Nali walked aimlessly along the narrow alleys at the foot of Noen Palace towards the old city center.
The wheel tracks left from the Imperial era were still bustling, with citizens emerging in small groups from the ancient bathhouses, gesturing and chatting leisurely. Old customs were hard to change, and slavery remained: the number of slaves in Balkan far exceeded the total of the other ten countries combined. At the street corner’s square, newly arrived slaves were lined up for selection, with the slave traders’ calls rising and falling, sounding to Nali like an opera performance, somewhat comical.
Turning another corner, Nali had arrived at the western part of Hargaburg. The area was densely populated but also quite poor. Nali stopped at a small square. It was surrounded by dilapidated houses covered in withered vines, unusually shaded even during the day, and crowded with resting pigeons.
Barefoot children used this as a playground, with the statue in the central fountain missing its nose and arms, yet water still flowing steadily beneath. Nali didn’t know why she had stopped, as if some mysterious force had transformed into soft threads, entangling her feet and preventing her from moving forward.
Her heart suddenly began to beat very quickly.
A boy laughed and ran past the fountain, splashing a crystal-like mist. Nali turned at the sound, her gaze piercing through the water vapor and beyond the damaged statue, settling on the doorway at the other end of the square.
The person in the black cloak was looking up, revealing deep red eyes.
Their gazes met across the space, like the gentle brushing of birds’ wings, silent yet full of tension.
Nali involuntarily bit her lip. Reason told her she should pretend not to see Karl, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn and leave. After hesitating, Nali slowly walked towards the magician in the archway’s shadow. Lowering her eyes, she spoke harshly: “Why did you leave without saying goodbye? Melissa is worried.”
Karl took half a step back, creating distance, and did not respond.
