“Is this the Holy City?”

Moen lifted the curtain of the carriage and gazed up at the majestic city towering in the distance.

The first sight to meet his eyes was the imposing pair of massive gates, seemingly forged from gold. Carved upon them were lifelike angels wielding swords, as if they might take flight at any moment to deliver divine punishment to sinners with their holy blades.

Next came the towering city walls extending out from the gates. Though high, the walls did not exude an oppressive feeling; through the top of the walls, one could see the array of elegant yet stately residences and churches winding upward in the distance.

Finally, at the very center of the Holy City, there stood the statue of the goddess—that statue visible from every corner of the city, as long as one raised their head.

Unlike the goddess statue Moen had once seen in a dilapidated chapel, this statue radiated an almost palpable aura of sanctity. It seemed adorned with countless starlit glimmers. Her face bore an expression of sorrowful compassion, gazing downward at all mortals. Her slender hands stretched outward, appearing to distribute hope and blessings.

Devout followers knelt in worship facing the statue, moving upward along the paths as they prayed with utmost piety.

Holy City.

Yeranska.

Legend had it that the ancient meaning of the name was “the chosen land under the gaze of the goddess.”

Though its scale of prosperity and population might not rival Belland, the imperial capital, the pervasive atmosphere of solemnity and divinity was enough to inspire profound awe in anyone’s heart.

And yet…

Moen stroked his chin, staring at the statue of the goddess, unable to help musing:

For a statue that big, if you stood beneath it…

Would it be possible to see the inside of the goddess’s skirt?

No, no.

This is really under the goddess’s watchful eyes.

I can't entertain random thoughts like this. Not at all!

Moen shivered and quickly pressed his palms together before muttering in the direction of the statue, “My apologies, goddess—no offense was intended.”

“Ha! My dearest Moen, you’ve finally arrived!”

Suddenly, a voice so exuberant that it seemed every sunflower in the world had simultaneously bloomed filled the air, drawing glances from several believers engaged in their morning prayers along the road.

Moen blinked in astonishment and saw a familiar pink-suited bear waddling, shaking its hips, as it dashed toward him with boundless enthusiasm.

“Ha! Good lad, you’re here at last!”

Without so much as catching its breath, Pink Bear spread its robust arms wide open, aiming for a hearty embrace with Moen.

And then—it hugged thin air…

Still holding its embrace posture, Pink Bear’s face contorted into a look of desolation and betrayal as it stared at Moen. “Did you really just step back on purpose?”

“Uh… sorry.”

Moen tried to soothe the standing-on-end hairs on the back of his neck as he awkwardly tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Just… felt a bit repellent somehow?”

“This isn’t the time to speak the truth, you bastard!”

Pink Bear hurled a curse but, fleeting as it was, soon reverted to wearing an exaggeratedly sunny grin, much like a late-autumn chrysanthemum. It slapped Moen’s shoulder with gusto, beaming like an elder admiring a child who had scored perfect marks on a test:

“Well done! Well done indeed! Truly, Celicia’s fiancé doesn’t disappoint. Successfully escaping from that forest amidst the awakening of a Disaster—I admit, I underestimated you, brat!

Here’s what I’ve decided! When you and Celicia have your wedding, I’ll contribute an extra couple hundred as a gift!”

“Only two hundred?”

“Count yourself lucky! When that punk Aldrich got hitched, I freeloaded the entire event. You’ll be the first person ever to make me the old bear pay up!”

“…”

Strangely, Moen felt a faint sense of… honor?

Expressionless, he promptly squashed that odd feeling.

“So,” Pink Bear said, leaning his oversized head into the carriage with a curious stretch, “I heard that lass named Lea got hurt. Everything okay with the three of you?”

“I’m fine. But Lea’s injuries are pretty severe, but there should be ways to treat her here in the Holy City, so it’s nothing I need to worry about for now. As for… hmm?”

Moen suddenly froze, eyeing Pink Bear with perplexity:

“The three of us? What are you talking about?”

“…”

Pink Bear’s swaying, unwieldy bear-frame stiffened as he extracted his head from the carriage window and turned rigidly toward Moen, his expression incredulous.

“You weren’t a group of three?”

“Where’s there a third? It was just me and Lea sent into the forest, wasn’t it?”

“And that flat-chested brat!”

“Flat-chested brat has nothing to do with me—I’m a fan for ample-chest ladies… Wait, are you talking about Ariel?”

Moen stroked his chin, navigating back over some lingering memory.

They had been fleeing from Indra King’s forces, caught in a desperate bid to survive. Somehow… they’d left Ariel behind.

She’d been off hunting monsters for money overnight.

But…

“She didn’t end up leaving with you all?” Moen asked with a peculiar expression.

“That’s what I should be asking you!”

Pink Bear grabbed Moen’s shoulder and shook it violently, his round bear eyes as wide as saucers. “That flat-chested brat—she didn’t end up leaving with you all?!”

“Well… no, wait. This doesn’t make sense. Ariel didn’t even enter the forest. How could she possibly…”

“She did! She went in!” Pink Bear exclaimed urgently.

“She went in looking for you two!”

“…”

Moen froze.

Froze again.

Then at last, realization struck.

Knowing Ariel’s character, her willingness to risk everything to help Lea when danger threatened wouldn’t have been out of the ordinary. It was just…

“She couldn’t possibly find us in that massive forest, though. That forest is huge.”

Moen spoke with suspicion:

“How could you think she’d make it out with us?”

“…”

Pink Bear opened his mouth, his pink furry face visibly paling as the color drained away.

He knew better, of course—it wasn’t realistic.

And yet…

He had been clinging to a sliver of hope.

“Repent!”

This time, a cold and unforgiving voice surged from behind him.

A strange, glowing magic transmission stone floated upward, and within echoed the judgment-filled tone of Professor Pulan, heavy as a gavel strike.

“Pink Bear, losing track of a student like this—the things important to you? Consider them forfeit!”

“No, no—”

Pink Bear threw himself at the transmission stone, clutching it desperately as he pleaded:

“Old—no, I mean—Professor Pulan! Esteemed Professor Pulan, hear me out, let me explain! This was an accident, I’ll find her! I swear I’ll bring her back, and I’m already working on remedies—please show mercy, please…”

“Hmph. Find her first—then we’ll talk!”

With a sharp *click*, the connection of the transmission stone severed.

As static crackled faintly in the wake of the broken transmission, Pink Bear collapsed dramatically to the ground as if struck by lightning.

“No, no—”

Suddenly, he smashed a fist against the ground, still kneeling, his anguished cries echoing in the open air.

“My photo collection—”

“Snowflakes drift~ the north wind howls~”

“What are you singing?!”

“Ahem, instinctual. Pure instinct.”

Moen coughed awkwardly, stealing a few steps back.

Watching Pink Bear throw his bizarre fit in the middle of the Holy City’s main gateway and feeling the gazes of onlookers inching in closer, Moen scratched his cheek nervously, spurred by a creeping sense of embarrassment.

Might be best to act like he didn’t know him. Would save some face...

“In broad daylight, could you refrain from behaving like a piece of non-combustible waste littering the environment here, Mr. Pink Bear?”

From nearby, a gentle and soothing voice carried over like the breath of spring.