I must admit—the Church in this world is something to behold. Not because everyone worships the same god, but because of the illusion of safety it fosters. No matter the circumstances, the sense of protection it offers feels absolute. Unshakable.

  Isolde and I no longer know Paradox merely as the author of the combat and magic manuals we train with. He is the absolute god. Of all that exists and all that doesn’t. The seen and the unseen. The tangible and the unreachable. Even the perceived and the imperceptible.

  And yet, mortals call him the Void. A paradoxical title, I’ll admit. Is he truly so vast as to be nothingness? They also name him the Beginning and the End, the Alpha and Omega… which, in essence, explains nothing at all.

  "You done?" Isolde asked, kneeling with her elbows propped on the church pew.

  We’d grown accustomed to prayer—a habit picked up from Mother after accompanying her to services. There’s a quietude to it. In my past life, prayer demanded the same absolute silence. Some traditions transcend worlds.

  My prayers had been simple. Another day of life. A return to wholeness. Shedding the remnants of my past existence. But above all, the absence of any carnal desires still unsettled me.

  "Yeah," I said. "Park? We could train for a bit."

  "Sure. Don’t forget your offering."

  "Right. Thanks for reminding me."

  I stood and approached the statue. Isolde had already left hers when we arrived. The "offering" was little more than a formality—a token of gratitude to Paradox for the life and indirect, distant protection he supposedly provided.

  I paused before his sculpted likeness. It was stunning. Long, exquisite hair carved with precision that betrayed its creator’s mastery. The statue was colossal, and when sunlight hit it just right, its divinity intensified. Its pose was celestial—gaze lifted, arms outstretched in a gesture that could be read as either benediction… or a declaration of absolute dominion.

  But more than anything, it was imposing. Its mere marble existence compelled you to kneel, to surrender to its presence as if it truly were the origin and end of all things.

  I placed my offering: a deep crimson rose. Syrix fluttered around it, ensuring it wouldn’t wilt. I gave a slight bow and turned away.

  "Done. Let’s go." I took Isolde’s hand, and we stepped out of the cathedral.

  Yes, the cathedral. The same one that once filled me with dread now stood before me as a majestic temple. Its ceiling was absurdly high—easily tall enough to fit a twenty-story building inside.

  And I’m not exaggerating.

  The thing I’d seen from the window—the bloodstained cross—was still there. According to The Holy Scriptures of Paradox, it was the very cross used to crucify him. An event mirroring Christ’s in my old world, though if the texts are to be believed, for reasons even more absurd.

  But let’s set theology aside.

  The cathedral’s interior felt oppressive—not unpleasant, but awe-inspiring. A melancholic yet luminous atmosphere, as if Paradox were perpetually present. Watching. Lurking.

  The sensation sent chills down my spine.

  And yet… it was comfortable.

  We walked through the kingdom's streets until we reached the central park. Everything seemed normal... until we saw her. At first, we didn't recognize her.

  Her once-pink hair was now completely dark. Her previously rosy eyes had turned crimson. Her figure even appeared taller.

  "Look, Lucy—it's that ugly girl from before," Isolde remarked with feigned indifference, pointing at the unfamiliar figure.

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  Two years ago, out of simple curiosity, I'd gone to see the cathedral and accidentally bumped into some girl along the way. Isolde remembered her because of that incident.

  Calling her ugly right now might not be the most polite move, Issy.

  Oh shit. She's coming toward us.

  I watched as the girl approached with purposeful strides.

  "You shouldn't have pointed at her like that, Issy," I muttered through gritted teeth.

  "Haha..." Isolde laughed, but her tone lacked confidence.

  The girl stopped right in front of us and, without warning, pointed an accusatory finger.

  "You never let me make up for my rudeness last time!"

  Seriously? It's been two years. Get over it, sweetheart.

  "But no matter. I should introduce myself properly now. Last time, I couldn't because you two ran away from me."

  We didn't run. We just had better things to do than waste our time on you.

  "My name is Alicia. It's a pleasure to meet you."

  She curtsied, lifting her skirt slightly and bowing her head with rehearsed precision. The gesture reminded me way too much of the princesses from novels in my past world.

  "I'm Lucius," I replied flatly.

  "And I'm Isolde!" my companion shouted enthusiastically. Huh. I thought she disliked her. Guess I was wrong.

  "So? Did you need something?" I asked bluntly. Not that I wanted to get rid of her, but time spent talking was time not spent training.

  "You're so cold..." Alicia smirked, teasing. Thanks. "But yes—I want to train with you."

  "No."

  Without waiting for a response, I grabbed Isolde's hand and turned to leave. Let's go. I know this type of girl. Eventually, she'll get on my nerves, and I'd rather skip the drama.

  "I vote we let her train with us," Isolde whispered in my ear.

  That stopped me.

  Fine. On second thought, maybe we can get along after all.

  I sighed. There was no avoiding this.

  "I thought you didn't like her until a minute ago?" I muttered.

  I glanced back at Alicia. She tilted her head, confused by my stare.

  "Come on, Lucy. This is a great chance to prove we're not just some eight-year-olds. We've been training for years... it's the perfect opportunity to put the pretty girl in her place."

  "Good idea."

  No, it's not.

  I had a bad feeling about this. Not just because the aggressive aura radiating from Alicia was unsettling, but because, at this point, we were still way too weak.

  ---

  "Isolde, dodge! Miss Alicia lands a strike. Damn! Isolde goes flying into the bushes. She scrambles up and charges again, but her attacks are sloppy—too easy to evade. Alicia grabs her arm and—hell, that gut punch had to hurt. Isolde staggers but refuses to go down. Seizing the opening, she unleashes a gust of wind. Alicia gets pushed back—... excepto... the girl barely flinches and retaliates with a water orb straight to Isolde’s face. Isolde tries to blink through it, but goddammit! That one had to sting."

  "You gonna shut up and help?!"

  "Sorry."

  Two against one. Not the scenario I’d envisioned, and yet, here we are. Alicia’s way stronger than we thought. Shit. Suddenly, it feels like all our training’s been a joke.

  The martial arts from my world give us an edge, but it doesn’t change the fact that Alicia’s faster, stronger, and—just to rub salt in the wound—wielding a wooden stick. We’ve stuck to the techniques from Paradox’s book, but it’s not enough.

  "Agh—!"

  A blow slams into my stomach, sending me crashing to the ground with brutal force. I skid a few feet before stopping.

  "Oh, come on! I barely hit you!" Alicia complains.

  Easy for her to say. Fuck, this hurts.

  Gritting my teeth, I push myself up and lunge at her. With Syrix, I fire a fireball that grazes her cheek. Isolde capitalizes on the distraction and lands a clean hit to Alicia’s face, knocking her back.

  No wasted chances. I dart behind her and strike, aiming to bury her into the dirt.

  "Not bad teamwork! Still not enough!"

  "Wha—? Aaagh!"

  What the hell…? How?

  My body slams into the ground. The gravity around me suddenly spikes.

  "That’s cheating!"

  "Hahaha! Relax, it’s just—Agh!"

  Isolde nails her in the ribs and sends her sprawling.

  Chaotic as the fight feels, to the adults watching, we probably just look like a bunch of kids flailing around.

  "Huff… Huff…" I wheeze, dragging myself upright.

  "Huff… Huff…" Isolde doesn’t seem much better off.

  "Think… we should call it… for today," I gasp.

  "Yeah. I’m kinda tired too."

  Bullshit. She’s not even winded. Not a drop of sweat, no hint of exhaustion.

  We’ve been at this for two hours, moving more than in any training session before. Fighting Alicia’s made one thing painfully clear: we’re still way out of our league. She’s completely outclassed us.

  I steady my breath and speak:

  "We should head home, Issy."

  "Yeah…" She takes my hand.

  "Leaving already?" Alicia arches an eyebrow.

  "Yeah. It’s getting late."

  "Alright. So… tomorrow?"

  "Uh… sure."

  Actually, no clue. We’d planned to hit up Reginald’s workshop.

  "Wait, can we even come? We told Reginald we’d study tomorrow."

  "Mm… Dunno. Either way, if we’re late, she’ll leave eventually."

  "True."

  "What’s all the whispering?"

  Alicia materializes behind us out of nowhere.

  Goddammit. Scared the hell out of me.

  "Could you not sneak up on us?!"

  She laughs. "Sorry. You two keep muttering and leaving me out."

  I sigh. "It’s nothing. We’re heading out."

  "Cool! See you tomorrow!"

  I nod, and we walk off.