The heartbeat was like the sound of drums, drowning out everything else.

The scorching blood flowed throughout her body, finally converging in her mind and turning into boiling lava.

It seemed as though she couldn’t think at all.

Instinctively, she turned her gaze away from that dazzling radiance.

Yet someone lightly pushed her from behind.

That hand carried a familiar touch, just like what her palm had once felt. But for some unknown reason, it felt electrifying, causing her body to tremble slightly.

“Go forward, my Lady Saintess.”

That low, rich voice said:

“You should stand in the light.”

And so the light converged.

Lea clenched her fists tightly, struggling to pull her thoughts out of the unknown currents of her mind. She lifted her head and looked forward.

The saintess’s gaze remained gentle, resting softly on her.

Then, she posed her question again.

This time, it was different from before.

“Lea.”

The crystal now radiated a dazzling brilliance.

“Are you sure you don’t need to reconsider?”

“…No.”

Without much thought, Lea blurted out her response.

Yet she found herself unable to meet those gentle eyes anymore. She averted her gaze, gripping the cool crystal firmly, and drew in a deep breath.

“This has been my pursuit all along, so I won’t give up.”

“…”

The saintess said no more. She merely let Lea take the crystal in hand, her gaze casually sweeping past Moen, who was standing behind them, with a meaningful look.

She gracefully rose to her feet, nodded to the gathered crowd, and said:

“That’s all for tonight. Rest well, everyone. I hope you can perform splendidly in the days to come.”

The saintess left.

The sacred prayer service had come to an end.

The spectators, realizing there was no more drama to entertain them, slowly began to disperse. Some went off to gather information on this knight of the divine who had suddenly appeared.

“What a pity. I thought we might lose a contender tonight.”

The first to rise and prepare to leave was the Platinum Princess. Her cold expression betrayed no emotion, as though she had merely watched a dull play.

But Moen immediately shot her a sharp look.

“Were those your doing earlier?”

The man with an ordinary appearance, who would be hard to notice in a crowd, had already vanished among the departing people. Moen had no way of fighting with someone inside the church .

But the words earlier clearly weren’t just idle remarks of disapproval towards Lea.

In reality, few people would act so deliberately provocative, especially targeting a saintess candidate for mockery.

No matter how one looked at it, there was a sense of premeditation behind it all.

“I’m not that childish. Please don’t accuse me without evidence, dear fiancé of that woman,” Margarita retorted coldly as she stopped in her tracks and met Moen’s gaze.

She knows me?

No, she probably knows Celicia instead.

Reflecting on Pink Bear’s earlier remark, Moen raised a brow but showed no fear in his expression.

For a moment, the atmosphere stiffened.

“Oh my, oh my, let’s not get like this. It’s not yet time for fighting to the death, is it?”

A disheveled man with a scruffy beard stepped into the tense standoff between the two. He casually slung his arm around Moen’s shoulder.

“No need to get upset, brother. Little Rita might seem hot-tempered and prone to saying inappropriate things, but I promise you, she’d never stoop to doing something underhanded!”

Paul, the scion of the Divine Will Swordsmanship school, sported a mischievous smile at the corners of his lips. Yet just standing close to him made Moen’s skin prickle faintly, as though a sharp blade hung threateningly by his side.

Sure enough, Pink Bear wasn’t lying—this guy was not someone easy to handle.

“By the way, I really admire what you said earlier.”

Paul suddenly nudged Moen with his elbow, lowering his voice conspiratorially:

“To be honest, I’m a fan of the chest department too.”

You too?

Seriously?

Moen’s eyes darted briefly towards Margarita’s figure—a flat chest that bore no difference to Ariel’s.

Is this guy playing with me?

But before the rising malicious aura around the Platinum Princess could explode, Paul quickly whisked her away to defuse the situation.

After Margarita left, the haughty white-stocking lolicon also departed alongside her knightly servant, Reta—the so-called “monster.” Without wasting a single word, they too vanished from the scene.

Their sharply contrasting figures brought a visual shock that no one dared to underestimate.

With the departure of the two saintess candidates who held an unfriendly attitude toward Lea, the tense atmosphere around them finally began to ease.

However, just as Moen was about to breathe a sigh of relief, he noticed the magic-wielding saintess candidate, Faye, approach with glowing eyes.

“You’re Moen Campbell, aren’t you?”

“Uh… You know me too?”

Moen blinked in surprise.

Was he really this well-known?

Surely it’s because of his good looks...

“My magic mentor mentioned you before. I heard you’re quite excellent in the field of magic, am I right?”

“Huh?”

Moen’s expression froze.

“Magic…excellent?”

“Of course!”

Faye nodded vigorously. “My mentor said you have an exceptionally skilled teacher and that your level of magic must be truly outstanding. Though I’ve never had the chance to meet you in person before, I wasn’t entirely convinced….”

Faye gave Moen a once-over, her expression becoming grave.

“But seeing how well you’ve suppressed your own mana aura, without leaving any traces, it seems my mentor was right!”

“…”

Moen’s lips twitched ever so slightly as he forced a polite smile.

“Well…I guess…somewhat…accomplished…”

In terms of Lightning Spell mastery, he could almost undoubtedly claim supremacy across the land.

At least, against Professor Pulan’s family cat, he was confident of victory!

“Perhaps we could exchange notes on magic sometime…”

“That won’t be necessary. Right now, we’re competitors!”

Moen firmly declined, then asked curiously:

“Miss Faye, you’re aiming to become saintess too, aren’t you? Then why are you still delving into magic so deeply…”

“Oh, that’s simple—because an exceptional woman shouldn’t chain herself to just one tree,” Faye answered nonchalantly, yawning as she threw a playful wink at Moen.

“It’s only wise to keep some backup options for oneself, isn’t it?”

A proper seductress, huh!?

Not wanting to soil his pure soul by engaging further with her, Moen quickly ended the conversation. But as soon as he turned, he found himself locking eyes with another unavoidable gaze.

It was that saintess candidate named Freya.

She was seated gracefully beside Lea, her expression gentle and warm—so much so that it felt like the saintess who had just departed had returned once more.

A soft glow emitted from her body, a faint, saintly aura that suggested she might be equally attuned to the light as Lea.

“You must be…Moen, right?”

Freya smiled warmly.

“Mr. Moen, do you like flowers?”

“Flowers?”

“Yes.”

Freya raised her hands, revealing a freshly bloomed bouquet.

It was a species Moen didn’t recognize.

The petals were pale yellow, crystalline and translucent, unfolding layer after layer with a unique and holy allure.

“This is a golden orchid—beautiful, isn’t it?”

Freya held the flowers out to Moen.

“I’d like to give them to you.”

“To me?”

Moen blinked in confusion. “Why?”

“Because I like you.”

“What?”

Moen instinctively widened his eyes, but Freya’s gaze held no trace of romantic yearning.

“When I see someone I like, I can’t help but gift them flowers. It’s one of my habits,” Freya explained with a smile.

“I see…”

So this was merely the universal benevolence of a saintess candidate?

For a moment, Moen thought his charm had advanced to being able to sweep girls off their feet with mere casual words.

“Thank you…though I must decline, with apologies.”

Politely, Moen refused, unwilling to entangle himself further with this unfamiliar woman.

Yet she gave Moen an inexplicable sense of caution.

Despite the unmistakable sincerity of her gentleness, Moen was instinctively reluctant to draw any closer to her.

“What a cold response.” Freya sighed softly.

In that fleeting moment, Moen sensed a tinge of killing intent.

It came from the shadow behind her.

“Bryan!”

Freya scolded sharply, stopping the man within the shadow. Then she turned with an apologetic smile to Moen:

“Sorry about that. Bryan has quite the temper.”

“It’s alright.”

Moen lightly curled his fingers at his side, offering her a vague smile.

“I don’t mind.”

“Mr. Moen truly is a kind soul.”

Freya’s smile remained unwavering. After delivering a rapid-fire confession, she followed it by handing Moen the proverbial “good guy card.”

“Well, I won’t bother you further. Until next time—although we’ll be enemies by then.”

“Sure, until next time.”

…

Watching Freya’s retreating figure, Moen finally exhaled deeply.

His taut body gradually relaxed.

These people were indeed terrifying—the kind of people who made him want nothing more than to return to Belland and shamelessly cling to Celicia or his senior for support.

“But…are you alright, Lea?”

Reeling his thoughts back into order, Moen looked at Lea ahead of him with concern.

Since earlier, she had remained silent and unmoving, like a puppet or a statue.

“Did something happen?”

Moen placed his hand gently on her shoulder.

“Eek!”

Lea’s shoulders shuddered as though startled, suddenly jolting back to her senses. She jumped away with an adorable squeak, her face flushed crimson.

“I-I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

Moen glanced at his hand, his expression morphing into one of self-reproach, as if he’d been struck by a revelation:

“Was it that my sudden decision to become your knight startled you?”

"Y-Yes, I was a bit startled."

"Ah."

"But... but..."

Lea clutched the cold crystal tightly in her hand, as if trying hard to suppress something. "I’m actually very happy."

"Really?"

"Mhm, so..."

Lea hid her small hands behind her back, her toes fidgeting nervously against the floor. She then tilted her head slightly, those moist and glimmering eyes reflecting Moen's figure.

Under the light, Lea's cheeks, tinged with a delicate blush, appeared fresh and radiant.

She bit her tender pink lip at first, then suddenly tilted her little head to the side, revealing a smile that was at least a hundred times more dazzling than the golden orchid from before. With a sweet and gentle tone, she said:

"From here on, I'll be relying on you, my knight."

"..."

Moen's heart skipped a beat, as if the serene lake within him had been agitated by a sudden storm following her innocent tilt of the head.

Taking a deep breath, Moen managed to calm the uninvited ripples in his heart before replying with a smile:

"Of course, my lady saintess."

Hah, come to think of it, voluntarily jumping into this pit... actually isn’t that unbearable.

If anything, reflecting on it carefully, while much of the original story’s side plots had faded from memory, some of the key events were still vivid enough.

Relying on those fragmented memories, he could carve out an advantage. So even without Ariel, making Lea the saintess wasn’t entirely out of reach.

"Alright, then let’s do our best in the coming sanctum trials, Lea!"

Moen extended his hand, encouragingly.

But Lea’s expression suddenly froze, her little face stiffening as she stared at him blankly, her confusion plain as day.

Not just Lea. Even Faye and Freya, who hadn’t yet left the room, turned back, offering Moen looks that screamed, "What nonsense is this guy babbling about?"

"Sanctum trials? What sanctum trials?"

"Uh? Don’t the saintly cleansing rituals from past generations always take place in a sanctum specifically built by the Life Church for such purposes?" Moen scratched his head, puzzled. This was supposed to be common knowledge.

"That used to be the case, but this time it’s different."

"D-Different how?"

The corner of Moen’s mouth twitched, a gnawing sense of foreboding rising in his chest.

"W-What’s different?"

"Didn’t Professor Pink Bear explain it to you?"

Lea blinked her eyes and answered:

"This time, our saintly cleansing ritual... the trial location isn’t the traditional sanctum. It’s somewhere else—recently reopened by the Church... an ancient relic.

The legendary *The Lost Land*."

"Canterwell!"

"What?"

Moen’s eyes lost their shine.

"And what the heck is *that*?"