"Canterwell, a rare ancient kingdom that is clearly documented with written descriptions in the ancient texts passed down from the chaotic ages.

It was known as the Land of Gold, a place filled with gold and gems, fortified with the strongest ramparts and walls. Even during the great chaos a millennium ago that swept across the continent for an unknown span of time, it remained unaffected.

Fertile, civilized, and prosperous—these are the terms that appear in every text mentioning its name.

There are even legends claiming it was a land flowing with milk and honey, where fields bore pork and lamb, devoid of hunger and pain, a pure land where everyone could live happily.

... What an exaggerated description."

Moen’s eyes scanned through the booklet Lea had handed him, introducing Canterwell in swift strokes.

Standing in front of him was Pink Bear, his gaze drifting nervously, as if guilty of something.

"But such an alluring and idyllic kingdom, a place anyone would long for, completely vanished without warning at the end of that chaotic era.

No texts mentioned how it disappeared. In all extant historical records, no major events of the period matching its magnitude have been uncovered—yet the vast kingdom just vanished mysteriously.

Thus, it is called The Lost Land.

Over the years, countless scholars have obsessed over this kingdom described in the texts, tirelessly seeking any trace of it, but all to no avail.

Then, ten years ago… the Church suddenly unearthed it.

A sprawling kingdom, buried underground for over a millennium.

For the past decade, the Church continuously worked on unraveling the mysteries of Canterwell.

However, just as the texts described, Canterwell was surrounded by an impenetrable barrier. Even the Church faced extremely slow progress in the decoding efforts.

That is, until recently… For what was initially estimated to take several more years suddenly completed ahead of schedule.

And so, the Ceremony, timed quite perfectly, came to be."

Moen looked away from the booklet and focused on Pink Bear, sneering coldly:

"A Ceremony to select a Saintess, held atop ancient ruins—how rousing and thrilling."

"Yes, yes, isn’t it?" Pink Bear nodded vigorously, "For such a fiery event, you have to pour in every ounce of effort; that’s the only way to live up to your youth!"

"But if someone had bothered to fulfill their duty earlier, instead of scratching their butt while reading dirty comics on the way here, and informed me of this critical detail—saving me from nearly dying of a myocardial infarction last night—that would've been even better!"

Moen gritted his teeth as he crumpled the booklet noisily.

"Uncle, before I enact divine punishment on you… do you have any last words?"

"Uh… Ahem, ahem." Pink Bear coughed fiercely, as if choking, then awkwardly rubbed his bear claws, grinning sheepishly:

"Don’t be mad; don’t be mad. Honestly, does it even matter? You know now, don’t you? What’s the difference between knowing sooner and later?"

"How could it be the same? If I had known this was such a dangerous ancient relic—"

"What? Would you not have stood up for that little girl last night if you’d known?" Pink Bear interrupted him, smirking.

"…"

"See? I told you it makes no difference."

Pink Bear suddenly straightened his posture, pulling out a cigar from who-knows-where, leaning back, and indulging in its scent as he exhaled with pleasure:

"Besides, your teacher didn’t tell you in advance either. What does that have to do with me? Obviously, she’s the one who set you up!"

"…"

Moen had no words to respond. At this moment, all he wanted was to go back and pin that infuriating, cunning lolicon teacher down across his knees for a thorough spanking.

She had claimed that the Sanctification Ritual would be easy and straightforward. But ancient relic being easy and straightforward—how laughable!

So many powerful figures had perished in eerie and unpredictable relics like these!

And he was but a pitiable, helpless blonde-haired youth trying to cling to someone for survival…

Unbearable!

Of course, he also knew that if he retaliated against Teacher Mela, the only possible outcome would be him getting pinned down across her knees instead.

Regardless, Teacher Mela’s strawberry-flavored candies—gone!

"At the root of it all, this whole affair is bizarre…" Moen massaged his temples.

He didn’t even know what this Canterwell was; it wasn’t in the original storyline either.

Moreover, based on the Church’s estimated timetable, if Canterwell were to surface, it surely would’ve been during the late stages he hadn’t reached in the narrative.

But now, it had suddenly emerged…

"Wait! The timing…" Moen’s gaze returned to the booklet, and cold sweat abruptly formed on his forehead.

The Church’s announcement of cracking Canterwell’s entrance seemed… was likely… should’ve been… right after the Moon’s Fall.

Could Canterwell be connected to the Moon of Silence?

Or had the Church, just like Teacher Mela, taken advantage of the Moon’s corpse while it was still fresh and looted its remains to open the passageway?

"No way…"

Surely, at the end of it all, the cause of this bitter outcome…

Was himself…

Moen slammed his head onto the table, overwhelmed by the sheer absurdity of this world tied to butterfly effects spiraling out of control.

Just end it all, already. Please.

“No need to be so pessimistic, kid.”

Pink Bear, now puffing on his lit cigar, took a deep drag and squinted at Moen as he spoke:

“For relics of an ancient grade, the most reliable approach would’ve normally been gathering a huge squad of top-tier elites from every faction to plow through—no monster or freaky construct would survive such a method.

But contrary to Canterwell’s sturdy exterior, its interior has already become quite fragile. Sending someone too overwhelmingly powerful inside could cause it to collapse outright.

This is actually quite common for many ancient relics. Time has worn them down to the brink of destruction; they can scarcely withstand any disturbance.

Therefore, nothing too overwhelming likely exists inside. If not, the Church wouldn’t be so confident letting you in without worry.

Plus, the outer layers have already been explored by the Church. In terms of safety, this relic reportedly ranks among the most secure ones discovered thus far. At least concerning the ruin’s inherent dangers, it’s not as bad as you’re imagining.”

“But those treasures hidden beneath the ruin, attracting top factions with their prized champions—that’s what’s truly troublesome, right?”

Moen continued wailing like a salted fish.

This was the true reason last night felt like an endless parade of elite-level contenders, genius figures, and a difficulty spike of epic proportions that shot sky-high.

Compared to a relatively low-stakes Sanctification Ritual, limited aside from rewards and experience, the legendary Golden Land, known as The Lost Land of hunger-free Canterwell—that was the kind of untold treasure trove anyone, from nations to factions, would covet fervently.

“Don’t even get me started—that irks me!”

Pink Bear suddenly slapped the table in exasperation:

“You brat, the academy and empire have grand expectations for you, sending you here to win the glory of the empire. But you, for the sake of chasing women, went and joined the Church as a knight—how could you sell us out like this?”

“It’s not about chasing women! I’ve told you, we’re just going through formal protocol!” Moen awkwardly cleared his throat. “But is it really that serious?”

“Hmph! It might not seem serious, but various factions are secretly competing fiercely.” Pink Bear snorted disdainfully, clearly uninterested in their hidden rivalries.

“If that's the case, why hasn’t Celicia come? She’s the empire’s finest among the younger generation, isn’t she?” Moen asked, puzzled.

“Who knows? I’ve no interest in whatever deals—in light or shadow—exist between the empire, the Church, and their myriad factions. But kid…”

Pink Bear fixed his gaze on Moen with an eerie smile:

“Are you absolutely certain that if Celicia had come last night, she wouldn’t have driven her heel straight into your ass when you knelt down before that girl in your knightly pledge?”

“…”

Moen shuddered, his mind immediately conjuring Celicia’s frostily elegant visage paired with her icy-blue eyes that regarded him like some insignificant bug…

Terrifying.