Inside the church, bright sunlight poured through the stained‑glass windows, yet it couldn’t make the light linger here.

White floor tiles and golden walls, under that limited light, all showed a faint, barely noticeable gray.

No filth clung to the sacred statue; the real dirt hid deep in people’s hearts, a stain that could never be wiped away.

Dust settled on the floor, caking together into black crusts that looked like human shadows, with a hint of demonic shapes.

Inside and outside the communication crystal, two distinct silhouettes flickered in turn.

One end was inside a church in Dibiles’s capital, where a lecherous figure appeared.

The other was somewhere within the Papal State, a tall, purple‑clad silhouette standing straight.

The crystal linked the two locations, letting the cardinal in this church clearly see the face of the other archbishop.

With every flutter of his eyes, that person’s lips curved in a seductive smile; when his red lips lifted, they bloomed like peach blossoms.

Outside light fell into his clear eyes, making it look as if two sparks of starlight were dancing within.

Under his fingers, his fragrant face showed Eastern‑style cosmetics carefully applied; every frown and every slight smile glowed with dazzling allure.

This was the third most important person in the Papal State, ranked only beneath the Pope and the Holy Maiden.

Among the high‑ranking clergy of the Papal State, many had titles in place of their original names.

Just like the Cardinal, this person was seldom called by his almost‑forgotten real name, and was known instead as—

—the Purple Bishop.

The Cardinal had sent a message yesterday, but only today did the other side finally respond and formally connect.

“Cardinal, what do you want from me?”

His red lips parted, and from that stunning mouth came a clearly male voice.

His looks alone could fool people, but anyone, after hearing just one sentence, would know:

The Purple Bishop was a man.

To put it more bluntly, he could be seen as a cross‑dressing trap in a flashy dress.

On a personal level, the Cardinal really didn’t want to talk to him.

If it weren’t for dealing with Charley the Holy Maiden, he would never have forced down the chill crawling over his skin, squeezing out a smile as he said:

“Your Excellency Purple…”

Honorifics were a must.

Because even though all five of them were archbishops, there was still a clear pecking order.

Normally, their standing went like this:

Purple > Blue > Green > White > Red.

Why did the Four Bishops add up to five people?

Wasn’t that just common sense? Same way the “Four Heavenly Kings” usually come in a set of five.

“Your Excellency, you know I joined the marriage tournament here in Dibiles to win the hand of the empress.”

“Mhm, and what’s that got to do with me?”

The Purple Bishop raised a hand to his face, orchid fingers lightly stroking his skin as he smiled.

“You want the empress, I don’t. Now if the prize was Sweetheart—Charley—I might show some real interest.”

Because their personal relationship was bad, the Purple Bishop had never been able to stand the Cardinal.

If the latter didn’t hurry up and say something interesting, it was entirely possible the former would cut the call off in the next second.

“It’s related. Very related.”

The Cardinal wiped the sweat from his brow, shouting in his anxiety:

“Guess who I saw at the tournament, Your Excellency? The Holy Maiden!”

“Cardinal, you’re not planning to stretch your filthy claws toward my Sweetheart, are you?”

At that point, the smile on the Purple Bishop’s face hid a faint but very real killing intent.

Anyone who knew him understood:

Don’t be fooled by how often he smiled; whenever it was about Charley, his temper became dangerously short.

No one wanted to touch that landmine. The Cardinal was no exception.

“Please don’t misunderstand! No matter who I want to lay hands on, it’ll never be the woman you like.”

“Then what are you getting at?”

“Doesn’t Your Excellency find it strange? Why would the Holy Maiden show up at a marriage tournament? She’s not into women.”

“I do find it strange. Judging by how you’re acting now… could it be you know something?”

That was exactly what the Cardinal wanted—to bait that question out of him.

Then, with plenty of exaggeration sprinkled on top, the Cardinal recounted what had happened yesterday.

His focus was on hiding Wang Xiaole’s true gender and fabricating scenes that had never existed.

“In front of thousands of citizens, in public, the Holy Maiden actually wrapped her arms around that Wang fellow’s waist, snuggling into his chest like a little lamb.”

“…”

“That guy’s methods are really something.

Back when the Holy Maiden was in the Papal State, she always behaved humbly and politely, but she never truly let anyone get close. I never imagined…”

“Cardinal, that’s enough provoking. I get what you’re trying to say—no need to go on.”

The Cardinal had been getting into it, only to be suddenly cut off. He hadn’t seen that coming.

“P‑provoking? I don’t get what you mean, Your Excellency. I was just describing what really happened.”

“Drop the act.”

Pity was written all over the Purple Bishop’s face as he stared through the crystal at the Cardinal’s twisted, ugly expression, as if he were looking at some pathetic bug.

“Out of the five of us, your IQ is near the bottom.

You thought I wouldn’t notice you trying to use me?”

He wasn’t a good person, but the Purple Bishop definitely wasn’t an idiot.

In similar stories, people like him often got riled up and manipulated by the flunkies around them.

But compared to those fools, he kept his brain switched on. Even when enraged, he never lost his cool entirely.

Having his attempt at sowing discord exposed halfway through, the Cardinal’s mood could be summed up in one word: mortified.

Normally, this was where he should’ve known to shut up.

But every time he thought of stopping, the scenes from yesterday—how he’d almost been taken out by Wang Xiaole—played over and over in his mind.

The humiliation of making a fool of himself in the ring, the sting of being stared down by Charley’s contemptuous eyes—

All of it carved an unforgettable sense of disgrace into the Cardinal’s tender, oversensitive heart.

(quietly) “If I don’t get revenge for this, I’m not human.”

After a few muttered complaints, the Cardinal’s expression went back to normal. The fawning look faded from his face, but his intent to provoke only grew sharper.

“Your Excellency, the Holy Maiden may outrank us, but she’s still just a young girl. I’m worried that guy tricked her.”

“Mmm, that makes sense. I’d also hate to find out I’ve been tricked by you.”

“Even if you don’t believe me, Your Excellency, you should at least think about your own interests.

Dibiles is a backwater. No one here is worthy of the Holy Maiden of the Papal State. Only you are a match for her.”

“Cardinal, you’ve been rambling all this time; what is it you actually want? Spit it out, I’m running out of patience.”

Now that he’d finally gotten the reaction he wanted, the Cardinal straightened up.

A vicious gleam flashed through his cloudy eyes as he answered darkly:

“The man the Holy Maiden cares about made a fool of me in the arena. I want to get back at him, but I’m afraid she’ll step in to shield him.”

“So you want to use my authority to summon Sweetheart back home, and then get your revenge once she’s gone?”

“Yes. It’s a win‑win for both of us. You don’t feel at ease letting the girl you like stay somewhere you can’t see her either, right?”

Based on motives alone, there was no direct conflict of interest between the two bishops. In fact, there was a real need for cooperation.

Of course, compared to the Cardinal, the one with actual power to decide was the Purple Bishop. His stance was everything.

Knowing full well the other’s intentions weren’t pure, would he still do what the Cardinal wanted?

Absolutely.

He might be smart, but when it came to Charley, the Purple Bishop was always touchy, and couldn’t tolerate even a grain of sand in his eye.

He knew the Cardinal’s story was clearly embellished, but even stripping away the overblown parts, what remained still—

“—still pisses me off.”

His hair flicked as he moved, and a rare twisted look crept across his beautiful face. His fists clenched so hard his knuckles cracked loudly.

“Cardinal, I’ll grant your request this time. Within a few days, His Holiness’s decree will reach Sweetheart. When that happens, she’ll have no choice but to return.”

“A wise decision.”

Bending at the waist to express his thanks, the Cardinal himself probably didn’t realize how hideous his face looked now.

“This is going to be fun.”

A “normal nun” drew in her presence, hiding just outside the door to the church’s inner chamber.

Right now, she was the only one in that spot, eavesdropping from this concealed position.

If the Purple Bishop were here in person, she wouldn’t be confident she could avoid his notice.

But inside the inner chamber, there was only that idiot.

That alone gave her plenty of confidence in not being discovered.

No one would have expected something like this to happen inside the Church itself.

And even more unexpected was—

“Their branch got infiltrated by me, and I just recorded every word of that little chat…”

Judging that this was about as much as she needed to hear, the nun stuck her tongue out and quietly eased the cracked door shut.

She backed away step by step. Once she’d completely left the inner chamber area, she roughly gauged that the shift‑change was about to start.

“The ‘real one’ will be here soon. I’d better change back before this fake runs into the original.”

The nun slipped a hand into her underwear and pulled out a mask, pressing it over her face.

A few seconds later, she took it off again. Her ordinary, forgettable features had already transformed into an impossibly beautiful face.

Charley.

She’d come at Wang Xiaole’s request, seriously sneaking into the church to gather intel in exchange for a date with him.

The mask she used was something she’d casually bought from a street stall.

The reason she could transform into other people wasn’t the mask itself, but the forbidden spell she possessed.

Charley’s forbidden spell allowed her to:

Transform into anyone whose face she’d seen.

Not just their looks, but their height, body shape, and even their voice could be altered along with it.

So why did Charley have to physically put the mask over her face when she transformed?

Because she thought it was fun.