"Moen, are you familiar with the Holy Baptism ceremony of the Life Church?"

"I don’t know!"

"I don’t understand!"

"Don’t come to me!"

Before Professor Pulan could say another word, Moen jumped up as if startled, his body tense, and left without so much as a backward glance.

Of course he knew what the Holy Baptism ceremony was.

Whenever the position of the Saintess within the Church was vacant, the ritual would be initiated to select the true Saintess from among several candidates.

In the original storyline, this was a very significant plot arc.

It was during this event that Ariel and Lea, in their efforts to counter the brilliance of the other Saintess candidates, grew closer, depending on one another as they faced various dangers. Their bond deepened, and Lea's affection for Ariel gradually evolved from that of childhood friendship into a romantic, Yuri-esque relationship, leading Ariel—an expert in courting girls—to finally win her over.

Lea’s role as a Saintess not only allowed Ariel to flaunt her connections with impunity but also provided significant assistance later in the story.

Though, of course, that arc eventually shifted into the classic childhood-lover-becomes-distant-while-new-rivals-appear plot...

But what did any of this have to do with him—Moen, the innocuous blond bystander?

"Heh, so you do know."

After just a few steps, Moen heard Professor Pulan’s soft chuckle from behind him.

The professor tapped his cane.

In an instant, Moen’s body froze, as if suddenly bound by invisible strings. His limbs moved against his will, turning him around and guiding him back to the bench, where he sat down stiffly like a marionette.

"Let’s have a proper chat, Student Moen."

"What’s there to talk about? Besides, you’re no beautiful, sweet-voiced girl—I only open up to those!" Moen gritted his teeth, frustration written across his face.

"A beautiful girl, you say?"

Moen had spoken flippantly, but to his surprise, Professor Pulan stroked his chin, contemplating seriously.

"A transformation spell isn’t difficult. If you insist, I can—"

"No, no, no!"

Moen waved his hands frantically at the horrifying mental image of a transformed Professor Pulan trying to have a heart-to-heart talk with him. "It was a joke! Just a joke!"

"Is that so?"

The corner of Professor Pulan's lips curled into a small smirk. "Then, can we continue our conversation, Moen?"

"…"

Damn it.

Moen mentally cursed.

How could you, of all people, Professor Pulan—someone with a seemingly righteous demeanor—resort to such underhanded tactics?

Have you been spending too much time with Professor Gran, picking up his roguish tricks?

"Fine," Moen slumped resignedly on the bench, his eyes dull with frustration. "What do you want from me?"

"Since you already know about the Holy Baptism ceremony, it’ll save me some explanations."

Professor Pulan removed his hat and placed it to the side. "To put it simply, the ritual is an event that occurs only once every few decades, its significance second only to the Church’s Holy Papal Succession, which hasn’t happened in 300 years. Various factions are required to send representatives, and the academy hopes that you—"

"No way!"

Moen’s eyes widened defiantly, his neck stiffening as he interrupted, "Absolutely not!"

You must be joking.

Send me, of all people, to the Church?

Never mind the fact that he bore the divine favor of the King of Wither within him.

The Elizabeth he wielded—well, its former form had been one of the Church's holy swords!

You could say that every fiber of his being reeked of elements directly opposed to the Church.

Why couldn’t he just stay at the academy, lounging around and slacking off? Why did he need to go looking for trouble?

"There are benefits," Professor Pulan said succinctly.

"I’m not going, even if there are benefits!" Moen snarled, baring his teeth, "Besides, with my current status, is it even realistic for me to just leave Belland?"

He was, after all, the son of a duke. His father currently commanded the Empire’s most elite troops on the border, engaged in a standoff with the demonic forces. If Moen just slipped out of Belland, wasn’t there a risk that his father, Duke Campbell, might decide to abandon the emperor, march back, and seize the throne?

The demons would undoubtedly cheer the chaos and might even lend a helping hand!

From the perspective of political strategy, there was no way this would ever be allowed to happen.

"Relax. His Majesty has already approved it."

"Huh? Why?" Moen’s jaw dropped in shock.

"His Majesty said he has full confidence in you, his future son-in-law, and in the loyalty of the Campbell family. He added that promising young individuals should broaden their horizons instead of fixating solely on a beautiful girl’s chest and thighs."

Professor Pulan looked genuinely puzzled. "But I must admit, I was quite surprised to hear His Majesty say something like that. Did you say anything strange to him?"

"…D-Did I?" Moen’s face twitched violently.

"Perhaps His Majesty has his own endearing quirks."

"In short, the decision to send you is the result of several factors combined. Moreover…" Professor Pulan peered at Moen with an enigmatic, playful grin. "If you manage to develop a good relationship with the Saintess, it would undoubtedly benefit your reputation, your family, the academy, the Princess Celicia, and even the entire Empire. It’s a perfect win-win scenario."

"How am I worthy of this honor?" Moen lamented tearfully.

It did sound like a perfect win-win scenario.

But that was only on the assumption that he didn’t get dragged to the Holy City, exposed for his ties to the dark god and his destruction of the holy sword, and promptly burned at the stake!

"Shouldn’t the academy’s best and brightest attend something like this? Someone like that classmate of mine—Ariel. She’s a shining example of excellence, capable of taking on ten people single-handedly. She’d be a perfect representative of the academy’s prestige and educational training! Why send someone like me—"

"Don’t worry," Professor Pulan interrupted. "You won’t be going alone. A team is still being put together, and I imagine this Ai-person you refer to will certainly be invited. Her talent speaks for itself. However…"

Professor Pulan paused, his voice carrying a hint of intrigue. "When it comes to your unique qualities, I wasn’t the one to say you had them."

"Huh?"

"It came from the Pope himself."

"What??"

"Yes. The Pope personally sent a letter to the academy, singing your praises. He called you, Moen Campbell, one of the rarest geniuses across the entire continent. He commended the brilliance hidden beneath your seemingly humble exterior and expressed a strong desire to meet you in person."

"What?!" Moen was completely stupefied.

A genius?

An exceptional talent?

Hidden brilliance?

An audience with the Pope?

Me?

Is this some kind of cosmic joke?

Your Holiness, do we even know each other? Why would someone in the most esteemed position on the continent take an interest in me, the mere son of a duke?

Look at Ariel! She’s the quintessential protagonist of destiny! She’ll probably steal even your Saintess away!

This had to be a trap!

Absolutely a trap!

After being burned countless times, Moen’s instincts instantly alerted him to danger. It was as if he could see the cruel figure of Fate smiling, waving at him.

"I’m still not going! No matter what you say, I’m not going! Absolutely not!"

Moen crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking as immovable as a stubborn mule.

So what if it was the Pope himself? Surely the Pope wouldn’t come in person to punish him for refusing an invitation.

After all, he wasn’t entirely without allies of his own.

Come what may, this time, he was determined to be the ultimate shut-in.

No one could convince him otherwise!

…

"You have no choice but to go."

In the Sea of Flowers.

Teacher Mela lay comfortably on a plush beanbag chair, sipping juice and basking under a miniature sun she had somehow obtained, her tone firm as she announced this to Moen.

"Wh-Why?"

Moen’s face crumpled as he stared at his brash yet radiant mentor, who, despite being his greatest backing, now seemed ready to kick him out the door herself.

"So many people want me dead! If I step outside, there’s bound to be an assassin waiting for me!"

"The reasoning is simple." Teacher Mela lazily cast a glance at him.

"If you go, there’s a chance you might die.

But if you don’t go…"

She paused, giving him a significant look.

"You’ll definitely die."