"You can give it a try."

The priest still wore a smile, as if gently offering an invitation.

Then, a sharp whistling sound broke through the air.

A shadow shot forth, like a cannonball exploding out of its barrel, lunging forward with force!

If you want to, then let's try!

By conventional reasoning, even priests who gained divine grace through worship and offerings to the gods typically used such gifts as supplementary power. Terms like "faith-based warrior" or "faith-based mage" came from this logic.

Even Lea, a candidate for saintess backed by the church of the goddess of life, Emil, revered by countless believers across the continent, still had to train diligently and suffer through relentless practice.

Yet the priest standing before them seemed different from the norm.

There wasn’t the faintest trace of magical energy or battle aura on him—he was clearly an ordinary man.

Even if divine grace was incredibly powerful, wouldn’t this frail, untrained body crumble like a brittle mage in close combat against me, an assassin and berserker?

Does this fool even understand what instant death entails?

I’m certainly not giving him a chance to unleash any flashy “ultimate moves”!

Moen’s eyes glittered coldly as he gripped Elizabeth tightly and struck downward with ferocity!

He went all-in.

Thunder—the ten stacks!

With a deafening crack akin to thunder’s roar, resplendent knife light descended vertically, like a river of stars slicing through the heavens.

The resulting shockwave flung the priest’s expansive clerical robes into fierce motion, accentuating his fragile, slender figure beneath.

He looked like a feeble sapling swaying helplessly in the midst of a storm, seemingly moments away from being uprooted and torn apart.

Yet the priest’s expression remained unchanged.

It was as if his smiling face were a mask, unyielding and unmoving, while the depth of his eyes reflected the merciless light of Moen’s strike.

Facing looming death, the priest simply raised the holy scripture in his hands.

And turned a page.

Instantly, Moen’s pupils contracted.

Because light descended.

Radiant light, sacred and pure, carried an aura of tranquility that could enfold the soul—yet it manifested as an invincible barrier, effortlessly blocking Moen’s full-force attack.

"This is..."

Moen muttered in disbelief. The holy light struck a nerve, a sense of familiarity almost too intimate to ignore.

How could it not? He’d been spending all this time alongside someone who could wield that exact same sacred light.

Wasn’t this...

"The goddess’... holy light?"

"Surprised, aren’t you?"

The priest looked at Moen, and for the first time, his expression shifted. The corners of his mouth, previously calm and slightly upturned, stretched wider and wider until they contorted into a soundless, beast-like grin filled with savage delight.

Monstrous. Unsettling.

"Indeed, this is the sacred light granted by the great goddess of life herself—radiant and incomparable!"

Though holy light descended, this time Moen felt no warmth. Instead, it was sharp as a blade, sending chills down his spine.

"Is this some kind of joke?"

Moen leapt back instantly, retreating from the light. He abandoned thoughts of counterattacking and instead turned to glance beside him—at the young girl.

Lea, too, was frozen, staring blankly at the sacred light encircling the priest. Her pale face was adorned with confusion.

But within moments, she stiffly turned her delicate little head and gave a faint nod.

This was real.

Moen understood her signal.

But how could this be possible...?

The god he worshipped wasn’t the goddess of life—it was the god of the forest, right?

"The great god of the forest is indeed my esteemed lord."

As though reading Moen’s doubts, the priest responded one word at a time, wearing that eerie smile.

"But I never claimed my service was exclusive to just one lord, did I?"

"Huh?"

Moen was stunned.

"Faith allows double-dealing now? Aren’t you worried that being so fickle will get you struck down by goddess with divine lightning?"

"Fickle? Oh no, no, no. I am the opposite of fickle—I am entirely devoted and absolutely sincere."

The priest clutched his scripture reverently, his laughter dissipating as his expression became solemn and devout.

"After all, if faith weren’t genuine, how could one gain divine grace?"

"You mean to say your devotion to both gods is sincere?"

Moen scoffed, even more skeptical now.

By all accounts, the conflicts between followers of different gods were sharper than those over mundane debates, like whether tofu should be sweet or savory. Sanctified wars that justified slaughtering entire families of opposing believers were all-too-common in histories across countless worlds.

But now you’re saying you worship multiple gods at once?

Unless you’ve got two brains entirely independent of one another, who would believe that?

"Why not?"

The priest fixed Moen with a meaningful stare.

"When you fall in love with one person, does it mean you’ll never truly love another again?"

"..."

For a moment, Moen’s expression seemed to freeze.

"This question is irrelevant to the current situation—I refuse to answer," Moen replied, feigning seriousness.

"Hah! You don’t need to answer; I already know the truth!"

The priest burst into laughter, exclaiming:

"Humans are creatures of boundless affection—to family, friends, lovers, spouses. Human emotions are diverse and multifaceted, yet they are all genuine.

Faith in gods is no different. So long as the gods themselves do not conflict, and so long as one's own belief is earnest and true, why can’t one worship multiple gods simultaneously?

As for the gods... our great lords wouldn’t care about such trivialities."

The priest’s face then twisted slightly, revealing a rare flash of anger.

"Sadly, those false believers, in their effort to mask their own inner uncertainty, fabricate doctrines to imprison others and deceive the masses.

Ridiculous! Authentic faith needs no dogma to restrain it!

But as for me—!

I… I revealed these truths and pursued a far broader path. Yet those wretched false believers branded me as heresy!

Ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous!"

"..."

Staring at the priest, whose mask seemed to have cracked as he descended into madness, Moen suddenly found himself at a loss for words.

His logic sounded reasonable at first glance, yet deeper reflection revealed it as the ramblings of a lunatic.

"Moen..."

Lea’s voice broke through, her hand timidly tugging at Moen's sleeve.

"I know who he is now."

"Hm?"

Moen turned back, frowning slightly.

Because at that moment, Lea—her trembling hand gripping his sleeve... No, her entire body—was visibly shaking.

She looked terrified.

"Priest."

Lea whispered, "Elsie, the Hundred-Faith Priest. Once a cleric at the grand cathedral of Melan, he later renounced the church for unknown reasons. Around the same time, he was condemned as heresy. The charge... the charge accused him of blasphemy against the gods."

"He's that dangerous, huh?"

"As you’ve seen—he’s only a regular person with no cultivation. But... but..."

Lea hesitated briefly, then continued, "His name appears near the top of the Life Church's blacklisted figures on the Holy Court’s records. They've been hunting him for years, and yet he still..."

"I get it."

A “regular person” who managed to evade capture for years by the Life Church’s Holy Court wasn’t someone who could be described as merely dangerous anymore.

And the title "Hundred-Faith Priest"...

Could this man seriously worship a hundred gods?

Ridiculous. No matter how seasoned a player someone might be, even the most consummate philanderer couldn’t simultaneously juggle this many relationships. The nickname was likely exaggerated.

But a name like that alone was enough to highlight the threat he posed.

Moen sighed bitterly.

The masterminds behind all these schemes had sent a very troublesome figure to deal with him.

"Wait, I have a question—if he's on the Life Church's bounty list, how come he’s able to wield the sacred light from the goddess?" Moen queried.

"Be... because," Lea murmured, lowering her gaze.

"The goddess is compassionate and impartial in her love."

"... I see."

Moen turned his focus elsewhere.

In short, the priest’s earlier sentiment summed it up.

The gods don’t care.

...

"Oh?"

The priest’s attention shifted to Lea now, his deep eyes gleaming perceptively.

"Lavish holy light and knowledge of my identity—young lady, your standing within the church must be quite high."

"... Moen."

Lea darted behind Moen, clutching his sleeve tighter still.

The fear in her heart was impossible to suppress.

Not only because of the priest's strength but because...

As a fellow believer of the goddess, once a priest of the Life Church himself, Elsie possessed unparalleled mastery of the sacred light.

Every technique Lea could muster involving holy light might be rendered useless against him.

Though her abilities extended well beyond sacred light, nonetheless…

She couldn’t escape the sense of feebleness that seemed to grip her completely in this moment.

"Lea."

Suddenly, warmth encased her trembling hand.

Moen firmly held her fingers, his grip steady and comforting.

"It’s okay. Trust me—I’ll figure this out."

"... Re-really?"

Lea stared up at the man before her, his resolute face carrying no trace of fear—not even against such a formidable enemy.

Yes. Moen would surely find a way—he could do anything, after all.

In that moment, Lea felt her chaotic heart settling into calm, as if merely standing near him could banish any fear she held.

"Then... what should we do next?"

"..."

Moen’s expression grew thoughtful, his gaze lingering on the priest encased in sacred light ahead of them, before darting toward the tangled vines slithering like serpents nearby.

"It seems we only have one option," he murmured.

"Hm?"

"Don’t worry. Let's go."

"Go?"

"That’s right—sticking to the original plan and breaking through!"

Without warning, Moen gripped Lea’s hand and turned abruptly, bolting at full speed!

"Oh? I thought you two might struggle against me a bit longer, yet you choose flee so decisively. Impressive."

"But such a shame—escaping from me won’t be that easy. Allow me to show you something new."

The priest calmly turned another page of his scripture.

Moen's breath hitched.

But it wasn’t because he was startled or because something incomprehensible happened again before his eyes.

It was because... he truly couldn’t breathe anymore.

The air began to move.

It transformed into violent winds, sweeping up falling leaves.

But in an instant, the leaves were shredded by the suddenly accelerating gusts, chaotic air currents whipped like an invisible giant hand stirring, spinning at an unbelievably terrifying speed.

Dust, branches, and debris were hurled into a manic frenzy.

The storm had truly descended.

But the one at the heart of the storm, the fragile tree that could break at any moment, was not the priest—it was Moen.

The raging winds sliced at his skin like blades. Under the immense pressure of the storm, his speed was rendered useless. Instead, he was relentlessly oppressed, mercilessly battered.

This... this was yet another divine blessing!

And at the same time, enormous vines spread out again, turning into a cage.

“Moen!”

Lea extended her sacred protection, shielding them from the storm, her expression tinged with worry.

“I’m fine.”

Moen gasped deeply, releasing Lea's hand:

“It’s just that you’ll have to manage on your own from here—I can’t spare a hand.”

“I... I can do it.”

“Good. Then run quickly and do as we said before!”

“Okay!”

Lea darted forward, her steps lightened by the blessing of sacred light.

Over time, she seemed to have mastered the technique of moving through this treacherous terrain. For the moment, her speed was not much slower than when Moen was pulling her along.

“Naive.”

Amidst the raging winds, the priest's mocking voice echoed.

The wind pressure intensified suddenly, making Lea’s face go pale, and countless vines once again blanketed the area, overwhelming everything, leaving no path to escape!

“Keep running, don’t stop!”

Moen's voice sounded in Lea's ears. Clenching her teeth, she sprinted toward the dead end ahead.

*Clang—*

A flash of blade!

Moen crossed his hands, gripping Elizabeth tightly, and swung down with force!

Thunder.

Tenfold!

With the help of sacred light, the fierce blade aura cut through the storm.

But it only parted the storm.

The barrier and cage formed by the intertwining giant trees and vines remained intact.

If that's the case...

Then he would simply put in more force!

A fierce determination flashed across Moen's face. From behind came a scorching heat, the alchemy core once again pushed to its current limit.

Time slowed down—sixty times!

In his vision, everything became incomparably slow.

Including himself.

But in this sluggish world, Moen forced himself to move, breaking through the limitations of his body, swinging his blade faster than everything around him.

Then, all the accumulated blade strikes burst forth simultaneously in a split second!

Twenty stacks!

Slash!

The blazing blade aura, carrying an almost divine force that seemed to cleave heaven and earth, caused Lea's vision to suddenly clear.

The storm was split apart, and the vines and massive trees were shredded to pieces.

No more obstructions.

Lea took a step forward, feeling the overwhelming sensation of freedom and vitality flowing in, her face lighting up with joy.

“We...we did it!”

The priest Elsie was just an ordinary man. This meant that his mobility couldn’t possibly match those who had undergone cultivation.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have resorted to sealing paths using the blessing of the Forest God from the very start.

In other words, as long as they could escape the range of his divine blessing...

“Moen, we did it!”

“We succeeded!”

“I…”

Excitedly, Lea turned her head back, wanting to share the very first moment of their escape and triumph with him.

But…

Her words froze in mid-air.

Lea’s face stiffened.

“Moen?”

At that moment, he was not behind her. He was not within her reach, where she could touch him, where she could feel his warmth.

He was still trapped within the storm’s domain, still surrounded by the massive trees and vines that were about to weave themselves back into a prison.

“Huh?”

It wasn’t “we” who succeeded.

It was… “me.”

“Go.”

Moen’s voice was deep and steady:

“Leave, just like we planned earlier. Go!”

“But… we agreed to break through together, didn’t we? Why…”

“The plan’s changed. You go first, I’ll follow shortly.”

Moen smiled.

Amidst the raging winds and twisting vines, that smile remained as radiant as the morning sun.

“Trust me, just as I trust you. Alright?”

“But…”

Lea still hesitated, glancing back.

The path that had been bathed in brilliant light a moment ago was now darkened, damp, and cold—a chilling contrast. It was… terrifying.

Compared to that, she longed to stay beside him.

But.

“Go!”

Moen’s sharp command exploded in her ears.

She had never heard him speak to her this sternly before.

The storm grew larger, the vines spread further, and the danger, in this fleeting moment, was inching ever closer.

At the same time, another voice echoed in her heart.

“Leave…”

“Lea, just go…”

“If you stay here, you won’t be able to do anything…”

“…”

“…”

It was her own voice.

“Run.”