Chapter 111 - A Paladin’s Quest… But How??

  With no other option but to comply, some of the group chose to act rather than remain visibly uncertain. Kazue, Chloe, and Emir were the first to force enthusiasm, their expressions brightening as they feigned excitement upon entering the Grand Cathedral of Arianka.

  Their smiles were not entirely convincing, but they played the part well enough, offering wide eyes of admiration and hushed whispers of awe as though truly moved by the sight before them. The rest of the group, however, could not bring themselves to do the same. Instead, they exchanged tense, wordless glances, their unease too deeply rooted to mask. Adam felt his jaw tighten as he caught Li’s expression—his usual cold, calculating demeanor was gone. In its place was something darker, something that spoke of genuine dread. A thin layer of sweat had formed along his brow, his eyes darting subtly across the divine surroundings as if he were searching for an exit, even knowing there was none.

  But it didn’t matter. Gideon had been watching them, and whatever response he had been anticipating, it seemed he had found it. The moment he saw the three of them play along, he beamed with satisfaction, his eyes glimmering with unshakable faith behind the helmet. To him, their reaction was proof of the goddess’ undeniable presence, a sign that even those who hesitated would soon find their path to enlightenment.

  "Wonderful!"

  He declared, his deep voice carrying across the vast marble courtyard.

  "Come, do not linger—step forward into the light, and witness the true glory of Arianka’s divine sanctuary!"

  With that, he turned and began his ascent. The staircase leading to the temple was a monument in and of itself, stretching high toward the great entrance, its sheer scale demanding reverence from those who approached. Each step was carved from flawless white marble, polished to a near-reflective sheen, its golden inscriptions gleaming faintly under the sunlight. The climb was treacherous—not because it was dangerous, but because it was designed to be demanding, forcing those who ascended to feel every step, to struggle in their devotion.

  For a normal person, it would be exhausting, a trial of faith before even reaching the temple’s doors, and Adam noticed it immediately—Emir was struggling.

  The boy, despite his best efforts, was lagging behind, his shorter legs unable to properly match the unnatural proportions of the steps. He tried, pressing forward with determination, but his breathing grew heavier with each movement, his pace slowing as the overwhelming height became more and more apparent.

  Gideon, ever observant, acted before anyone else. Without hesitation, the massive paladin turned on his heel, descending a few steps in a single, effortless motion. Then, without so much as asking for permission, he reached down and lifted Emir as though he were nothing more than a child’s doll, hoisting him up in one smooth motion before settling him onto his broad, armored shoulder.

  "Ah, there we go!"

  Gideon chuckled, his tone as lighthearted as if he were speaking to a younger sibling.

  "No need to struggle, young one! You have already proven your devotion by making such a journey alongside your companions."

  Emir let out a startled sound, blinking in shock as he suddenly found himself perched atop the paladin’s shoulder. His small hands instinctively gripped onto the plate armor for stability, though he remained stiff, clearly unsure of what to do.

  Gideon, seemingly oblivious to the awkwardness, grinned and looked at the others.

  "Truly admirable! To see such a young soul walk the sacred path with unwavering faith—brings joy to my heart! Tell me, then…"

  He turned his head slightly, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

  "Is he the child of one of you?"

  The group exchanged glances, uncertain for a brief moment. The question was unexpected, though not entirely surprising—The paladin’s perception of them as pilgrims made the assumption reasonable enough. Adam was the one to respond, his words coming almost on instinct.

  "No, we’re just… friends."

  He said, shaking his head. The second the words left his mouth, he paused… It had come so easily, without hesitation, without consideration. Not "companions", not "allies", not a group thrown together by circumstance, just… Friends.

  His own response lingered in his mind longer than it should have, twisting through his thoughts with an unsettling persistence. The word had slipped out naturally, without hesitation, without calculation, and that was what unsettled him the most.

  Was that truly how he saw them now? Not just allies bound by necessity, not just individuals forced together by circumstance, but something more? He had always considered himself separate, distanced from the idea of attachment, viewing the others as variables within a system that he needed to account for rather than people he could trust. But somewhere along the way, in between the battles they had fought, the dangers they had faced, and the moments they had shared, especially after he contacted his parents… that line had blurred.

  He had stopped thinking of them as mere extras in his life and had started to see them as something real, something that mattered beyond the mechanics of survival. And the fact that it had happened without him even noticing sent a strange, uneasy feeling curling through his chest.

  Gideon, blissfully unaware of Adam’s internal conflict, grinned with approval, nodding as if Adam’s words had only further reinforced what he already believed to be true.

  "Ah, even better!"

  He declared, his voice carrying the same unshakable warmth as always.

  "There is nothing more sacred to humanity than the bonds of brotherhood. That connection is what makes us strong, what separates us from the beasts and the faithless. A man is nothing without those who walk beside him, those for whom he would give his very life."

  There was no deception in his voice, no pretense, no hint of forced rhetoric. Adam could see it clearly—Gideon was not merely repeating doctrine, not simply parroting religious dogma. He believed every word, with absolute, unwavering conviction. There was no doubt in his mind, no hesitation in his heart.

  If the moment demanded it, if the choice was presented to him, Gideon would lay down his life without a second thought—not for personal glory, not for selfish reasons, but because he genuinely believed that was the right thing to do. To protect his brothers-in-arms, to uphold the values of humanity, to serve his goddess in the purest form possible.

  There was a sincerity in him that was almost admirable, a clarity of purpose that few men could ever achieve. And yet, it was that very conviction that made him terrifying.

  Because it was that same man, that same unshakable beacon of righteousness, who had spoken of slaughter with joyous certainty. That same voice that now spoke of loyalty and sacrifice had, without hesitation, described the destruction of entire civilizations, the burning of homes, and the screams of the innocent as a thing to be celebrated. He had not flinched when he spoke of suffering. He had not wavered when he explained that mercy was not meant for the unworthy. He had not questioned the morality of it, because, to him, there was nothing to question. It was truth, ordained by a power beyond mortal understanding, beyond mortal debate.

  How could he reconcile those two things? How could a man who spoke of brotherhood and selflessness in one breath turn around and laugh at the suffering of others in the next? How could he take pride in protecting life, yet feel no remorse in taking it when it belonged to those deemed unworthy by the will of a goddess? There was no malice in Gideon, no cruelty that came from hatred or a personal desire for bloodshed.

  He did not seem like the kind of man who enjoyed hurting others for the sake of it. No, that would have been simpler—Adam could understand a sadist, could rationalize a man who inflicted pain because it gave him pleasure. But Gideon’s joy came from something deeper, something far more dangerous.

  It came from belief. The contradiction gnawed at Adam’s mind, an itch at the edge of his understanding that he could not yet grasp. It was incomprehensible, this paradox of morality that the paladin embodied. And yet, the boy knew with certainty that this contradiction was not unique to this one paladin. It was a reflection of something far greater, something deeply woven into the fabric of human nature itself. There was still so much he did not understand.

  Without further delay, the group continued their ascent up the colossal staircase, their pace steady despite the overwhelming weight of their thoughts. The steps stretched endlessly before them, a monumental path leading toward the entrance of the Great Cathedral of Arianka, a climb designed not just to test endurance, but to force those who walked it to feel the distance between themselves and the divine.

  Yet despite the steep incline, none of the priests, none of the paladins that moved before them seemed to struggle. The clergy, draped in flowing white and gold robes, ascended and descended the steps with effortless grace, their movements so unnatural in their ease that it was as if the divine itself had lifted their burdens, allowing them to walk without fatigue.

  And yet, despite the challenge of the climb, despite the strain that should have come from traversing such an immense structure, the group pressed forward without faltering. Every one of them had undergone physical augmentation in some form—enhanced speed, endurance, strength—each of them more than capable of surpassing what would have once been impossible.

  Even Sebastian, the eldest among them, showed no signs of fatigue, his steps firm and unwavering, yet the most peculiar sight was Chloe.

  Adam had expected her to struggle—unlike the rest of them, she had no enhancements to her physical abilities, no supernatural endurance to carry her forward. And yet, she moved with ease, each step taken with the same casual indifference that she always carried herself with.

  At first, Adam assumed it was simple stubbornness—Chloe was the type to refuse to show weakness, even when it was completely reasonable. But then, as his gaze lingered on her, something strange caught his attention… There was something embedded in her head.

  It was subtle, barely noticeable at first, but the longer he stared, the clearer it became. A small, thin needle protruded from her scalp, almost imperceptible unless one was actively looking for it. And now that he had noticed, he could see it pulsing, emitting the faintest vibration, as if stimulating something within her body.

  Adam decided not to dwell on it. Chloe’s strange method of keeping pace was odd, but it was likely tied to the combat style she had purchased back at the lobby. There was no point in questioning it now. His focus was already splintering, his mind struggling to stay sharp as they moved deeper into the divine presence that seemed to saturate the air itself. With each step closer to the cathedral's entrance, a wave of dizziness threatened to overwhelm him, the sheer weight of the divine energy pressing down against his very being. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before—oppressive, relentless, as if the very essence of this place sought to reject him, to purge him from its sacred halls.

  But he did not stagger. His trait, [Half-Undead (Variant) Psyche (Innate)], shielded him from the more obvious effects of the divine pressure, allowing him to keep moving as though nothing was wrong. He could feel the strain, the way his breath came slightly harder, the faintest tremor in his muscles that wanted to retreat, but outwardly, he remained composed.

  He did not doubt that if not for this innate resistance, he would already be on his knees, gasping for air, struggling beneath the crushing force that sought to drive him away. Even so, the further they walked, the worse it became.

  And at last, they reached the entrance.

  It was a masterpiece of perfection, colossal in scale and yet crafted with such flawless precision that it almost did not feel real. The massive, intricately carved doors stood as an invitation and a warning, their surfaces adorned with golden engravings depicting the history of Arianka’s chosen, the stories of warriors and saints whose deeds had been immortalized in celestial script.

  The sheer grandeur of the entrance alone could have been a holy site in itself, but it was merely the threshold—the first step into something far more overwhelming. Gideon turned to them with his usual radiant enthusiasm, his eyes shining with genuine joy as he spread his arms in welcome.

  "Come, my young saints! I will lead you directly to the Grand Altar, where you shall receive your sacred communion with the goddess. The rest of you may observe, should you wish, for was this not the reason you all made your pilgrimage?"

  His voice carried with it an unshakable certainty, as though it were simply expected that they would take this step without hesitation.

  There was no room to refuse, so with no other option, the group followed.

  The moment they crossed the threshold, the sheer magnitude of the cathedral’s interior struck them with full force.

  It was as immaculate and as awe-inspiring as the exterior, perhaps even more so. The ceilings stretched impossibly high, disappearing into a seemingly endless expanse of light, giving the illusion that the heavens themselves resided within these walls. Colossal pillars, each sculpted from pure white marble, stood like titanic sentinels, rising toward the heavens with a sense of purpose and grandeur that made it feel as though they were holding the very sky in place.

  The walls, adorned with divine murals, glowed softly with a golden radiance, depicting celestial beings, the blessed warriors of the goddess, and the great trials of faith that had shaped the holy order. Intricate stained-glass windows, vast and impossibly detailed, cast an ethereal spectrum of light across the pristine floors, their images shifting slightly as the sunlight danced through them, bringing the stories they depicted to life.

  And there were people everywhere. Priests and priestesses in flowing robes of white and gold walked with purpose and grace, their hands clasped in prayer, their lips moving in murmured hymns that filled the air with an eerie, harmonious chorus.

  Paladins, clad in ornate armor, stood in disciplined formations, their weapons polished to a divine sheen, their gazes unwavering as they observed the sacred space with reverence and vigilance. Devotees of all kinds kneeled before shrines, lighting incense, whispering pleas for blessings, offering their faith in exchange for the favor of the goddess.

  The sheer holiness of the place was overwhelming, and at the very center of it all stood the Grand Altar of Arianka.

  The altar was an architectural marvel, sculpted from divine crystal, reflecting the ambient light of the stained-glass heavens above. Rows of golden reliquaries, each containing sacred artifacts, lined the edges, their presence radiating an unmistakable holy pressure, but the most important of it all was standing in the heart of it.

  The statue of Arianka.

  It was breathtaking, a monument of divine beauty, sculpted with such precision that it seemed almost alive, as if she might step forward at any moment and speak. She was depicted as a radiant woman, her long, flowing hair cascading in waves, sculpted so finely that each strand seemed to shimmer in the ambient glow. Her features were soft yet commanding, exuding both grace and absolute authority, and her eyes, carved from an unknown celestial gemstone, held a calming presence that seemed to reach into the soul of any who dared gaze upon them.

  It was perfection, overwhelming in its presence, a reminder of the absolute power that ruled this place.

  Upon reaching the altar, Gideon finally stopped. He lifted Emir from his shoulder and gently set him down, gesturing for him to rejoin the rest of the group. Then, he turned back toward Adam and Drake, motioning for them to follow him to the center of the altar’s sacred grounds.

  Standing there, waiting for them, was an elderly priest.

  He was ancient, his skin wrinkled with the weight of countless years, yet his posture remained perfectly straight, unyielding, as though even time itself could not force him to bend. A soft halo of divine energy hovered above his head, a clear sign of immense holy power, and before him floated a sacred tome, its pages turning without the touch of mortal hands. The sheer energy radiating from the book was so intense that the air around it wavered, as if the scripture itself was formed from living fire, its words carrying power beyond comprehension.

  Gideon’s smile widened as he stepped forward.

  "Archbishop Nathaniel!"

  He greeted warmly, his voice full of genuine joy. The elderly priest lifted his gaze from his floating scripture, his expression briefly showing surprise, though it was not unpleasant. His deep-set eyes studied Gideon for a moment before his lips curled into a gentle, knowing smile.

  "Gideon."

  Nathaniel said, his voice smooth despite his age, carrying an unmistakable wisdom.

  "What brings you to the temple so suddenly?"

  The paladin beamed with pride.

  "I have encountered two saints who have made a holy pilgrimage to seek communion with our beloved goddess. They wish to begin their divine journey—to take their first steps toward becoming paladins."

  Nathaniel’s face lit up, his expression one of pure joy.

  "Ah! That fills my heart with pride! Such devotion at a young age—it is truly a blessing. Of course, I shall guide them."

  Then, the priest’s gaze shifted toward Adam and Drake, his ancient eyes studying them carefully before he spoke once more.

  "But first, tell me, young ones."

  Nathaniel said.

  "What are your names?"

  Gideon blinked, then let out a hearty laugh.

  "Ah, that’s right! I never did ask!"

  Drake stepped forward first, bowing slightly, his voice calm and respectful.

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  "My name is Drake Shaw."

  He said formally. Adam hesitated. The pressure in the air was worse than ever, the sheer density of divine energy making it harder to breathe. Each inhale felt like he was drawing in something too pure, something his body wanted to reject. Still, he forced himself to step forward, to lift his gaze toward the archbishop despite the invisible force pressing down upon him.

  "Adam Scholar, it’s an honor to meet your Holiness the archbishop."

  He said, his voice steady—but with effort.

  Drake’s introduction had been blunt, but Adam’s words had balanced it enough to maintain a respectful tone. He wasn’t entirely sure of the exact rank Nathaniel held within the clergy, but judging by Gideon’s demeanor, the way the paladins and priests treated the old man, and the sheer presence of divine authority surrounding him, it was safe to assume that an archbishop held considerable status just like in the real world.

  Nathaniel smiled, not with the condescension of a man who expected reverence, but with the warmth of someone truly pleased by what he had heard. His expression carried wisdom, patience, and something else—an expectation that this moment was merely another part of a greater cycle, a story that had played out many times before and would continue long after them.

  "Ah, yes! I can feel the divine energy within you both."

  Nathaniel spoke, his voice rich with experience. His eyes first settled on Drake, studying him with quiet approval.

  "Yours burns brightly, strong and pure, a fire that does not waver in the face of the world’s trials. There is no doubt that the goddess’ blessing runs deep within you."

  Then, his gaze turned to Adam, lingering for a moment longer, his expression shifting into something more contemplative. He did not frown, nor did he display any suspicion, but there was a searching quality to his stare, as if trying to find something just beyond the surface.

  Adam remained still, knowing any movement might be misinterpreted, but inside, his mind was racing, calculations forming and breaking apart in an instant. Nathaniel’s presence was suffocating in a way that had nothing to do with hostility—it was simply the weight of an ancient and unshakable faith, a force that had long since become part of the fabric of his being.

  "You…"

  Nathaniel finally continued, his tone thoughtful rather than accusing.

  "You are different."

  Adam’s chest tightened, though he did not let it show. The archbishop tilted his head ever so slightly, as though listening for something only he could hear.

  "There is something within you, but it is not the same as the light that Arianka bestows upon her saints. It is… something else."

  The silence that followed felt endless. Then, the archbishop smiled again, this time with genuine reassurance.

  "But it is not darkness either."

  He stated with certainty.

  "It is not corruption. It does not bear the stench of the unholy. I have lived long and seen many take the sacred path, and you are not the first whose divine essence carries an unorthodox touch. A mere few days ago, another young woman came to seek communion. Her energy, too, was unusual, but she was able to complete the ritual without issue."

  He gave a nod as if to put the matter to rest entirely.

  "This will not be a problem for you either."

  Adam and Drake exchanged a glance, their eyes meeting for only a second, but it was enough to communicate everything they both understood at that moment. There was no escaping this. Every step they had taken had led them deeper into something they could not back out of, every decision, every word spoken had set them on a path that now had only one direction. There was no way to refuse, no way to step back without immediately calling attention to themselves.

  Nathaniel stepped aside, motioning toward the grand altar ahead.

  "Come, all that is required of you is to kneel before the goddess, close your eyes, and pray with all your heart. If your faith is strong, she will grant you a divine mission—a task that, once completed, will mark you as Paladin Acolytes."

  He said with the ease of a man who had guided countless others through this same path before them. Adam’s throat felt dry. Nathaniel continued, his voice as steady as the foundations of the temple itself.

  "The mission will be tailored to your strength, your potential. But fear not—the goddess has never assigned a task beyond what a true aspirant is capable of overcoming."

  Adam’s feet carried him forward almost without his consent. Drake moved beside him, his steps equally steady, but the boy could see the way his fingers twitched at his sides, the way his jaw tightened ever so slightly. It was the smallest shift, but it told him that Drake, too, understood exactly how deep they had fallen into this. Neither of them had a choice. Step by step, they approached the altar, where the massive statue of Arianka loomed over them, her celestial presence casting an unnatural stillness over the space.

  Slowly, with the weight of countless unseen gazes upon them, Adam and Drake knelt.

  Adam pressed his hands against his knees, his fingers curling slightly as he forced himself to maintain composure. He closed his eyes, but his mind was in chaos. What was he supposed to do? What was supposed to happen? Nothing would happen, that was obvious. This was a ritual of faith, a divine rite, something that should have been completely inaccessible to him. Even if he could pretend, even if he could fake the act of receiving a mission, how long would that deception hold?

  The priests, the paladins, Nathaniel, even Gideon—would they not sense the absence of divine will? He was trapped, bound in a situation with no solution, and time was slipping away faster than he could think. He had to come up with something. He had to figure out how to get out of this before it was too late. But what could he do? What could he possibly say?

  Then… A sound, a familiar and unmistakable chime.

  Adam’s eyes snapped open at the same time as Drake’s, and without meaning to, they both turned toward the altar in alarm. The text unfolded before them in glowing letters, impossibly real, as though the very fabric of the world had bent to acknowledge their presence.

  Neither of them moved. The words stood there, undeniable, breaking every expectation, shattering every assumption. This was real. This was not a trick, not a fabrication, not some illusion conjured by the divine presence surrounding them. This was a system-generated mission, one issued with the same neutrality, the same unwavering certainty as every task before it. It had chosen them. It had deemed them worthy.

  Adam’s heartbeat slammed against his ribs. This was not how things were supposed to go. What had just happened? The moment both boys rose to their feet, the divine energy surrounding them seemed to shift, as if recognizing their presence, as if something unseen had accepted their existence within this sacred space.

  Nathaniel’s face lit up with joy, his aged features stretching into a wide, elated smile, his entire demeanor radiating pure reverence. His voice, rich with the weight of years spent in unwavering faith, rang through the great cathedral with undeniable conviction.

  "Rejoice! The goddess has spoken, and her will has been made clear! From this day forth, you walk the sacred path. Follow her words, complete the mission she has entrusted to you, and you shall ascend as true warriors of Arianka!"

  His words held a finality that left no room for question, no space for doubt. This was not just a ritual to him—this was an affirmation, an undeniable truth.

  Adam and Drake exchanged a glance, their minds racing. None of this made sense. They had received a system-generated mission, not some divine revelation, and yet, everyone here—Nathaniel, Gideon, the priests, the paladins—believed, without hesitation, that this was an act of the goddess herself. The sheer weight of their conviction made arguing impossible.

  After a brief pause, Drake took a steady breath and turned toward Gideon.

  "May I ask about the message we received?"

  His tone was careful and respectful, though Adam could sense the underlying tension. Gideon, ever eager, gave a confident nod.

  "Of course, young saint! If there is something you wish to clarify, speak freely!"

  He placed a hand over his chest, exuding the same warmth and assurance he had carried since the moment they met.

  "However, understand that no one in the order may aid you directly. The trial given to you by the goddess must be completed by your own hands. This is her will."

  Drake hesitated only for a moment before responding, his voice measured, as if testing the weight of his own words.

  "The mission we received was to assassinate the Vampire Lord ‘Lucian Valtheris’ or the Giant Chieftain ‘Thalgrun Ironhearth’. If we succeed, we will ascend directly to ‘Paladin Champions’, how is that possible?"

  The reaction was immediate. Nathaniel and Gideon, both standing with pride mere seconds ago, froze, their postures going completely still. It was not hesitation in the way one might expect—there was no fear, no visible doubt—but rather something unspoken, something so profound that neither of them could immediately react. They turned toward one another, exchanging a look that carried the weight of pure disbelief, as though what they had just heard defied all expectation.

  Silence stretched, thick and tangible, filling the vast chamber as the reality of what had been spoken settled over them.

  Then, suddenly, Gideon began to weep. It was not sorrow nor grief. It was pure, unfiltered joy.

  His massive frame trembled as he lifted his head toward the towering statue of Arianka, his broad hands pressing against his chest as his body shuddered with emotion. Tears spilled freely from his eyes underneath his heavy helmet, unrestrained, his lips parting as though unable to contain the overwhelming gratitude that surged within him. His voice, cracking from the sheer force of his devotion, carried across the chamber like a prayer made manifest.

  "Oh, great goddess! To think… that you would bless us with such radiant souls… That you would send to us warriors of such immense potential…"

  He whispered, his breathing hitched, and he let out a breathless, trembling laugh.

  "You have never forsaken us. You will never abandon us. The light of humanity will burn ever brighter, and I…"

  His voice faltered as another sob overtook him, but it was a cry of praise, of rapture, rather than despair.

  "I swear upon my soul, I will continue living until I can see these chosen saints fulfill their destined glory!"

  Nathaniel, standing beside him, was equally overwhelmed, his aged hands clasped together in prayer, his lips moving in silent devotion. His own eyes glistened, though his tears did not fall as freely as Gideon’s. There was a deep reverence in his expression, an unshakable belief that he had just witnessed a moment ordained by the divine herself. The paladins in the room remained silent, some bowing their heads, others closing their eyes in solemn reflection, but all clearly moved by the sheer magnitude of what had just occurred.

  Adam and Drake, standing at the center of it all, remained frozen in place.

  None of them had expected this. They had braced for skepticism, perhaps suspicion, but this… this overwhelming veneration, this celebration of their supposed greatness, was something they could not have predicted.

  Gideon took several moments to compose himself, wiping at his face with his armored wrist, his breath still uneven, though his expression remained radiant with purpose. When he turned back to Adam and Drake, his eyes shone with awe and conviction, as though he were looking at something truly sacred.

  "It is an honor to stand in the presence of such gifted saints. The goddess has entrusted you with the most difficult trial I have ever seen given to an aspirant. To ascend from nothing and be granted a task worthy of the greatest warriors in our order—this is proof beyond doubt of your destined greatness."

  He finally said, his voice thick with emotion. Then, his brows furrowed slightly, and a flicker of realization passed over his face. On the other hand, Nathaniel’s eyes flickered with something—recognition, realization—before his expression shifted entirely. His breath caught for the briefest of moments, and his hands, which had been clasped in a solemn gesture of reverence, slowly tightened.

  A thought had struck him, something undeniable, something that changed the significance of everything that had just transpired. His aged face, once overflowing with joy, now carried a look of deep contemplation, as if the pieces of a larger picture had finally come together.

  "This… this is not the first time."

  He murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. Gideon turned toward him, brows knitting together in curiosity. The archbishop inhaled slowly, as if testing the weight of his own words before speaking again.

  "As I said earlier, a young woman came to the temple, seeking communion with the goddess only a couple of days ago."

  His gaze lifted toward the grand altar, toward the towering statue of Arianka, as if drawing strength from its presence.

  "She, too, was given this same divine mission."

  The weight of the revelation settled over the room like an unshakable decree. Gideon’s expression faltered, his earlier certainty momentarily shaken as his gaze snapped toward Nathaniel.

  "Another…!? You mean… the goddess has called more than one saint to this path?"

  He echoed, as though the very idea of three such individuals being chosen in such quick succession was beyond comprehension. Nathaniel turned toward him fully now, his expression resolute, his voice gaining strength.

  "There is no doubt. The goddess has set their destinies upon the same course. It is not a coincidence—it is divine will."

  He stepped forward, placing a hand upon Gideon’s armored shoulder, his aged fingers gripping with unexpected firmness.

  "You must take them to her at once. She is awaiting her own journey, and now that their paths have converged, they must walk it together. This is the will of Arianka."

  Gideon blinked, his stunned silence lasting only a moment before his lips parted, exhaling sharply as if finally grasping the enormity of what was being asked of him. Then, slowly, his expression under his helmet shifted—not in doubt, but in determination. The awe, the reverence, the unshakable faith in his goddess that had guided his every action until now—it all burned even brighter. He clenched his fist over his chest, nodding with absolute conviction.

  "Then I shall not hesitate! If this is the goddess’ decree, I will ensure that her chosen warriors walk the path she has set for them. I will lead them to their destined ally so that together, they may bring the light of humanity to even the darkest corners of the world!"

  Nathaniel gave him a firm nod of approval, then turned his gaze toward Adam and Drake once more.

  "She is currently stationed at the western barracks."

  He stated, his tone final, as though nothing could alter the course of events now.

  "She has been preparing for her divine mission ever since she received her calling. You must go to her now, and together, you shall face the trial that has been set before you."

  The shift in the room was unmistakable. No longer was this simply the announcement of a divine quest—no longer was it merely a sacred task given to those deemed worthy. This was a prophecy unfolding before their very eyes. A divine design too grand for mortal understanding. The air in the cathedral was thick with expectation, the weight of faith and destiny pressing down upon them like an unshakable force.

  Adam’s heartbeat pounded in his chest, his mind spiraling as he processed just how much deeper they had fallen into this situation yet again. Every moment, every word spoken, every declaration made in their honor was another step forward on a path they could not turn away from. There was no arguing against this. No way to deny what had already been sealed in the minds of the believers around them.

  And now, there was another variable in the equation, another chosen warrior.

  A girl who had received the exact same mission as them. Adam had no idea who she was, what kind of person she might be, or how she would react to all of this. But there was no avoiding it now. Whoever she was, whatever role she played in this insane turn of events, one thing was certain—their fates had just been irreversibly intertwined.

  Without wasting any time, Gideon straightened himself, his expression filled with purpose as he turned toward the group. His voice, deep and unwavering, carried through the air like a command that left no room for hesitation.

  "Come, I shall lead you to the barracks at once."

  He declared, his heavy armor clanking slightly as he took the first steps forward.

  "But know this—once the saints set out on their mission, none among you may aid them. The goddess sees all, and should you interfere, it is possible that they may never complete their trial. Though you may be friends, you must tread carefully. The weight of their journey is theirs alone to bear."

  The words hung over the group like a silent decree. Adam, Drake, and even the rest of the team had already known they were being pushed toward something inescapable, but hearing it spoken so clearly by Gideon made it all the more real.

  As they walked, the golden rooftops and pristine white walls of Celestia Sanctum seemed to stretch endlessly before them, the sheer perfection of the city making the reality of their situation feel even more surreal. The streets, lined with devout followers, the ever-present hymns in the distance, the patrols of paladins that passed by with measured steps—all of it was a reminder that they were in a place that functioned on unquestioning belief.

  It was Kazue who broke the silence first, her quick steps bringing her just ahead of the group as she turned toward Gideon, her expression filled with curiosity.

  "Hey, I’ve been thinking about what Drake said earlier."

  She started, her tone uncertain yet determined.

  "Who exactly are Lucian Valtheris and Thalgrun Ironhearth? Are they the leaders of their races?"

  Gideon let out a deep laugh, his steps never faltering as he continued forward.

  "No, no, my young saint-to-be!"

  He said with the same booming enthusiasm he always carried.

  "The vampires and giants have their own hierarchies, much like our own blessed order. A Vampire Lord and a Giant Chieftain hold ranks equivalent to that of Paladin Knights in terms of strength, formidable in battle but ultimately nothing before the divine power bestowed upon us by the goddess."

  He turned his head slightly, glancing at Kazue as if eager to share more knowledge.

  "You see, they are strong, but not invincible. Compared to their superiors—the Vampire Elders and the Giant Tribe Leaders—they are merely stepping stones on the path of conquest. That is why part of your trial will be to track them down, to seek out your chosen foe and strike them down as the goddess has decreed!"

  Despite the confidence in his voice, Adam couldn’t help but feel the weight of those words. Even if these so-called "lords" and "chieftains" were not the highest-ranking members of their respective races, they were still formidable enough to be specific targets in a divine trial.

  "Do not be concerned, if the goddess has deemed you capable of this task, then you must trust in her wisdom! She would never grant you a trial that you could not overcome!"

  Gideon continued, flashing them a broad, encouraging smile. Adam said nothing, keeping his face neutral, but deep inside, his thoughts churned with unease. The walk to the barracks was longer than expected, but in the midst of everything, something finally broke through the haze of Adam’s thoughts. A detail so obvious that he felt stupid for not noticing it sooner.

  Where was Takeshi? … His eyes darted around, scanning the group, and the realization hit like a slow, creeping dread. They had lost track of him.

  During the emotional outpouring at the cathedral, when Nathaniel and Gideon had been overcome with joy, when the team had been momentarily stunned by what had just occurred, they had completely taken their eyes off the one person who should have taken that opportunity to disappear.

  But before panic could fully settle in, Adam’s sharp gaze caught sight of him. Takeshi was still there, casually keeping pace with the rest of the group, as though nothing was wrong. The boy narrowed his eyes, his steps subtly quickening until he was walking beside him. Without hesitation, his voice came low, sharp, and demanding.

  "Why didn’t you escape?"

  Takeshi, who had been walking with his usual air of indifference, flinched slightly at the sudden question. He turned his masked face toward Adam, pausing for only a second before letting out a sigh, scratching the back of his head.

  "Ehh… As much as I hate to admit it… I think we’re heading to the same place."

  Adam stared at him, his thoughts clicking together instantly. What the hell does that mean? But before he could question Takeshi further, they arrived.

  The barracks were vastly different from the grand cathedral—functional rather than ceremonial, built with sturdy stone walls, thick iron gates, and rows of armed personnel moving in disciplined formations. The divine energy that had been suffocatingly thick in the cathedral was far less intense here, and for the first time in a while, Adam felt like he could breathe properly again. The tension in his muscles eased slightly, but his mind remained just as alert.

  Gideon, leading the way, strode forward with purpose, his keen eyes scanning the area despite not knowing exactly who he was looking for. He pushed through the main courtyard where groups of soldiers and lower-ranking paladins were gathered, their conversations blending into an indistinct murmur.

  Then, suddenly, Gideon stopped.

  A strange flicker of recognition passed over his face, as though something unseen had drawn his attention. His body straightened, and his usual booming voice rang out with unwavering certainty.

  "Ah, there she is!"

  Without waiting for a response, he led them toward a wooden table at the center of the barracks where several people were gathered in discussion. The group turned at the interruption, and it was then that Adam saw her.

  A young woman with short blonde hair, standing with an air of undeniable confidence, her piercing eyes meeting his the moment she turned.

  She was beautiful, striking in a way that was neither delicate nor intimidating—there was something sharp about her, something unshaken, as if she had already accepted whatever burdens the world had thrown at her without complaint. And then— A window appeared.

  A system notification unfolded before all of them, data illuminating the air in real-time, confirming their identity to the boy’s ‘Cursed Vision’

  Adam’s eyes widened, his pulse jumping at the unmistakable proof before him. They were all users! However, from the side, and before he could react or say anything, Takeshi awkwardly stepped forward, rubbing the back of his head as he forced out an uneasy chuckle.

  "Uh… hey, boss…"

  He muttered, addressing the girl.

  "So, uh… yeah. Things happened."