"Th-thanks for waiting."

Standing in front of Emil Cathedral, Moen turned his head toward the source of that melodious voice, resembling a lark's song.

And his breath momentarily caught.

Early spring. Clear skies.

The gentle sunlight shone past the statue of the benevolent goddess, illuminating everything equally.

In front of him lay the famous "Path of Devotion," the sacred road that countless believers traveled daily for their pilgrimage. The sunlight spilled onto the staircase, giving it the shimmer of white jade.

Yet in this moment, the warmth of the sun, the white jade stairs, and even the goddess statue—all seemed to pale in comparison the instant the girl stepped out of the shadows.

She wore a yellow long dress, the hem intricately decorated with layers of ruffles. A silk ribbon cinched her waist, accentuating her graceful figure and highlighting the fullness of her chest.

Her legs, encased in black thigh-high stockings, were shapely and elegant. When the hem of her skirt lifted momentarily as she moved, a faint impression of the stockings pressing into her skin could be glimpsed.

"I-I hope I'm not late."

The girl stopped in front of Moen. The edges of her hair were meticulously woven into two playful braids, which swayed with her movements. Thin beads of sweat adorned her forehead, glimmering brighter than spring itself.

"No, you're not. It's just that you…"

Words suddenly eluded Moen.

At this moment, Lea seemed entirely different from the Lea he remembered. In his memory, she had never cared much about her appearance. Aside from the prior restaurant outing and last night's encounter, she was always garbed in a simple, unadorned white dress.

But today, she was not only clearly dressed with care, but she had also applied light makeup, adding a delicate allure to her sweet face.

The stark contrast drew Moen in almost instantly, making it impossible for him to tear his gaze away.

"I-Is there something off? Do I look strange?"

Lea twirled a finger around her braided lock, biting her rosy lips. Her eyes, shimmering like mist, betrayed both anxiety and expectation.

"No, you're… stunning."

Moen inhaled deeply, suppressing the growing ripple of emotions in his chest, and praised her genuinely:

"Today, you look exceptionally radiant, Lea."

It wasn't a mere flattering remark meant for social niceties, but the plain truth. The girl before him was enchanting enough to make anyone's heart stir.

"R-Really?"

Lea's unease dissolved almost instantly, replaced by a gentle joy.

Others on the white jade stairs—pious followers engrossed in their pilgrimage—halted upon witnessing the blossoming vision, momentarily forgetting their devotion as they cast fascinated glances at her.

"Ah…"

Lea snapped back to reality, her cheeks flushed as she shyly explained,

"It-it's not like that. I'm not dressed like this because of your invitation. It's just that… those people said those things before, so I thought, as a saintess candidate, I should at least pay some attention to my image…"

"I understand." Moen smiled.

"I'm not arrogant enough to believe my charm runs so deep."

His dashing smile outshone even the sunlight.

Yet Lea felt as though the scenery around her grew a shade dimmer. Despite her effortful explanation, an inexplicable twinge still lingered in her chest…

"But…"

Moen turned his head, his voice carried by the breeze, free of discernible emotion:

"I think Lea is beautiful, even without dressing up. More beautiful than anyone else."

"Mm…"

Lea lowered her head and softly responded.

The scenery colored itself richly, the Holy City in early spring beaming with charm.

...

...

"By the way, you mentioned we'd take a stroll. Where precisely were you planning to go?"

"Hmm, I'm not very familiar with Holy City either. I'll rely entirely on you as my guide. Though first, I'd like to shop for some alchemical tools and magic scrolls to prepare for the ceremony."

"I think there's a street entirely dedicated to those sorts of items. But my memory of Holy City dates back several years, so I'm not sure if it's changed."

"Well, let's go take a look then. We have plenty of time."

"Alright."

The streets of Holy City were narrower than those of Belland and lacked the bustle of carriages and throngs of people characteristic of Belland.

However, this ancient city—withstanding the tests of millennia—radiated a rich timelessness, adorned with carvings of divine hymns on its venerable architecture. Robed clergy passed by occasionally, sometimes pausing to smile at the two strolling companions while promoting their teachings.

When they noticed the emblem of Emil Cathedral on Lea, however, they would depart with a look of disappointment, continuing their search for other prospects.

Armored knights of the temple patrolled the streets, exuding valor and dignity.

Lea led Moen into a lavishly decorated shop. On the corner of the signboard, Moen noticed the emblem of the Stone Cauldron Association.

"A shop affiliated with the Stone Cauldron Association?"

"Yes. You probably wouldn't consider purchasing items off street vendor stalls."

"Not necessarily."

If I possessed the protagonist's extraordinary luck, perhaps street stalls would yield hidden treasures, items beyond measure.

But I don't, so I obediently settle for buying certified products with money.

"What can I help you with today?"

The shop assistant, whose chest bore the Stone Cauldron Association insignia, greeted them with a professional smile. Yet upon seeing Moen and Lea enter, her eyes widened in surprise, momentarily stunned.

She was utterly captivated.

The man was dashing, the girl adorably sweet. Together, they radiated such brilliance that even amidst the Holy City's sunlight, they seemed brighter than all else.

"What do you want, Lea?"

Paying no mind to the clerk's lapse in decorum, Moen touched his chin thoughtfully and turned to Lea. "Didn't we agree this would be part of my apology? Go ahead and choose anything you'd like. I'll pay."

"Um…"

Lea glanced at the variety of alchemical tools and magic apparatus displayed on the counters and walls. After pondering for a moment, she pointed decisively:

"Then… I'll choose this."

Her slender finger pointed toward a blackish metal slab. Moen followed her gaze, noting the description: it was an alchemical material capable of storing magical energy and carving enchantments.

"Anything else?"

Moen smiled. "Just one item? And so affordable? That'll keep me up at night with guilt."

"T-Then I suppose I'll also pick… this, this, and this."

Lea hesitated briefly before pointing at several magical crystals, blank spell scrolls, and other peculiar materials.

"Alright, that settles it."

Moen turned toward the clerk. "Bring out the highest quality versions of everything she pointed to. Ten units of each. Package them neatly."

"T-Ten…"

The clerk's eyes widened as if seeing a wealthy eccentric trying to woo someone.

"W-wait, that's too much…"

"Lea."

Moen turned back, his expression entirely earnest:

"I'm doing this for myself—not for you."

"Eh?"

"Because right now, we’re partners. If you grow stronger, I’ll feel more at ease. You don’t possibly think I’m spending all this money just to please you, do you?"

Under the clerk’s “but isn’t that exactly what’s happening?” stare, Lea fell into contemplation.

It seemed… logical.

But somehow, it still felt off.

Regardless of doubts, with Moen's reasoning so laid out, she found little excuse for refusal.

The clerk swiftly packaged the items Moen had requested, as though fearing he'd change his mind. Lea dazily accepted the bundles handed over, her small hands trembling slightly.

Even as a saintess candidate, the church provided little in the way of material support. These top-tier materials? She had only ever seen descriptions of them in books!

For the first time, Lea felt she could fight on a footing of wealth. The saintess position was practically hers for the taking!

Her eyes spiraled in reverie, plunging adorably into wild fantasies.

"What can I assist you with, sir?"

With Lea’s purchases finished, the clerk respectfully turned back to Moen, meticulously explaining the function of each magical implement. No scenes of disdain typical of novels surfaced here; Moen's gold-threaded collar and his overall demeanor spoke volumes of his esteemed standing.

"Hmm…"

Moen touched his chin in thought and suddenly leaned in close to the clerk, lowering his voice:

"Do you… sell the types of items you're not supposed to?"

"Eh?"

The clerk blinked in confusion.

"Items… we're not supposed to sell?"

"Yes, the type that, if sold, would get you immediately arrested by the temple knights." Moen's serious tone carried an air of intrigue.

"Immediately arrested—"

The clerk's face turned crimson as she seemed to grasp an unintended meaning. Her voice rose fervently, tinged with embarrassment:

"I'm afraid not, sir! This establishment is entirely aboveboard, selling legitimate goods only! As for those kinds of illicit, err, sex… items, we absolutely don’t have them!"

"… No? That’s too bad… Wait, what? 'sex' items?"

Suddenly realizing the implication, Moen's eyes widened. "When did I ever say I wanted something like that?!"

"Eh, isn’t that what you meant? I thought maybe you wanted something for flirtation…" The clerk sneaked glances at the girl with her head lowered, her slightly flushed cheeks betraying her thoughts.

"Of course not! And, for the record, we're not like that."

Moen expended significant effort to clarify to the skeptical clerk the nature of his relationship with Lea, as well as the specific kind of "forbidden" items he was asking about. Unsurprisingly, he received a firm rejection.

"Apologies, sir."

The clerk's expression grew stern:

"This is Holy City."

"As I expected."

Moen appeared unfazed.

In Holy City, the regulations surrounding contraband magic tools were evidently far stricter than elsewhere.

Though hidden darkness may still thrive even under Holy City's boundless illumination, it was not something Moen—newly arrived—could delve into yet.

"Belland was better," Moen sighed wistfully. Back there, a modest effort would yield military-grade magic cannons that had been conveniently "decommissioned."

Here, even purchasing high-powered spell scrolls required rigorous reporting to the temple knights.

Moen couldn't help but sigh in disappointment.

It seems that the title of "Duke's son" holds little to no utility in the Holy City, aside from a certain lingering stench of money.

Fortunately, the Holy City has a branch of the Imperial Bank; otherwise, even that stench of money would be nonexistent.

"Since that's the case... I guess I'll have to make do."

The higher-grade items were beyond his current capabilities to fully unleash, while the things he *could* utilize brought him no particular advantages—especially since most of them were tightly controlled by nations around the world.

Unable to find what he desired, Moen's gaze fell to the shop's area showcasing its highest-quality goods. Even so, their effects on him could only be described as lackluster. Resignedly, he scanned the items.

"This one, this one, and that one..."

The shop assistant nodded repeatedly, attentively jotting down Moen's selections in her small notebook.

"Aside from those I've just pointed out, pack up everything else for me."

*Thud.*

The little notebook slipped from her hand to the floor. The shop assistant stared at him in disbelief, momentarily convinced she was dreaming.

…

…

After a brief wait, Moen accepted a space magic tool—offered as a complimentary gift—from the trembling hands of the shop assistant. As he swiped his card, he mused aloud, "Looks like I’ll have to sell one of Father’s estates again."

He then swiftly left the shop with Lea, heading straight to the next store without wasting a moment.

At the following shops, the items on sale were all of a similar caliber—some even of slightly lesser quality. As extravagant as Moen was, he felt no further desire to purchase anything. He simply browsed nonchalantly and occasionally stuffed a few trinkets into Lea’s hands.

By noon, Moen led Lea to a restaurant that was, at least on the outside, quite decent.

When shopping with a girl, most of the destinations could be left to her choice. But when it came to selecting the restaurant, that was the true stage for a gentleman to display his manners and preparation—the final battleground, the determinant of success or failure. — *Belland’s Dating Guide*

Even though this outing was not a date, Moen figured some of the principles probably still applied.

The restaurant had a serene ambiance, accompanied by soothing music. At the center stood a benevolent statue of the goddess.

While waiting for their food, Moen casually pulled out a newspaper he’d picked up earlier by the street.

"What are you reading?"

Lea leaned in curiously.

"Information."

Moen glanced at Lea, who was now close enough to touch, before spreading the newspaper flat over the dining table.

"After all, it's wise to size up the competition, isn’t it?"

The newspaper dedicated several pages to profiling the exceptional participants of the upcoming Sacred Baptism Ceremony—figures such as the Executioner from Slaver Kingdom, the Wandering Swordsman from the Principality of Saigon, and the Chantress from Elizel.

Of course, the greatest focus was on the saintess and their divine knight attendants. Their past achievements were meticulously unearthed and detailed. Those feats, so grand they could only be looked up to by ordinary people, were here reduced to mere words on newsprint.

"Thirteen years old and they killed a legendary lake monster? Seventeen and they battled a sovereign-level magical beast single-handedly? Never been defeated since their rise to fame... Each of these figures is scarier than the last."

Moen sipped on the coffee that had been served ahead of the meal and said with admiration, "That being said... I’d say I’m not too bad myself."

Though his public record offered little in the way of noteworthy feats, he had made quite the show of himself before. Surely, his reputation wouldn’t be too shabby... right?

Thinking this, Moen finally turned to the page featuring his own profile.

"Scumbag."

"The Ice Witch’s boytoy."

"A wanton dandy with a fetish for black silk stockings."

"A notorious womanizer."

"Destroyer of Invincible-Class Warships."

"The midnight-streaking nudist..."

According to an anonymous source—identified only as "Mr. Pink Bear"—the summary painted him as nothing less than a "complete and utter scumbag." *Girls, whatever you do, do not fall for his good looks…*

"..."

"...What the hell!"

Moen slapped the newspaper down in fury, his indignation palpable.

"I’m a man who’s taken on four opponents at once at the Academy! Why are all the reports about me full of crap? Couldn’t they at least come up with a cooler title? Like *The Golden-Haired Campbell* or something!"

"Uh…"

Lea, her face flushed, hurriedly turned her gaze away from the censored-but-still-scandalous half-nude photograph on the page. After numerous hesitations, she finally balled her fists, gathered her courage, and cheered Moen on sweetly:

"Don’t worry, Moen. I know you’re not that kind of person; it’s all just baseless rumors!"

"No matter what anyone else says, I’ll always have your back!"

"Ugh… So dazzling."

Under the girl’s gentle encouragement, Moen was moved to tears.

But he held back from responding.

Because, while the report was undoubtedly exaggerated, Moen also couldn’t deny that… Well, there was a *grain of truth* to it.

Just a tiny, tiny bit.

"Anyway, let’s eat for now."

By the time they had finished flipping through the paper, the dishes had already been laid out on the table, one after the other.

The appetizer consisted of Northern Veil-style creamy cod soup paired with Grunt-styled baked escargot.

The main course featured thick-cut fillet steak from Budoshire.

And the dessert was…

"Panini cake!"

Lea’s eyes sparkled with a childlike glee that the two previously extravagant dishes had failed to evoke.

"You like Panini cake?"

"Mm-hmm."

Lea scooped a bite with her silver spoon and placed it in her mouth. Her face instantly lit up with satisfaction.

"Ariel loves this, so I ended up loving it too. But since I’m the type to gain weight easily, and Panini cake is expensive, I don’t get to have it all that often."

Even as she continued enjoying the dessert, she wrestled with the dilemma of overindulging, worried her new clothes might not fit again.

"I see..."

Moen stroked his chin thoughtfully. Then, an idea struck him.

"But if you like Panini cake," he said, "you might also enjoy this one."

He called over a waiter and whispered something in their ear.

Shortly after, a new cake was brought over and placed in front of Lea.

"What’s this?"

"Give it a try."

Lea tentatively scooped a bite with her spoon and placed it into her mouth. Her eyes immediately lit up.

"It’s… delicious!"

The flavor was reminiscent of Panini cake, but instead of rich, heavy cream, it carried a refreshing fruity sweetness that offered a completely new sensation.

"It was created by the same pastry chef who developed Panini cake," Moen explained with a smile. "It’s called Pasini. But it’s not nearly as famous as Panini cake."

"I, however, personally prefer Pasini. And, because of the different ingredients used, Pasini isn’t as likely to cause weight gain as Panini."

"Not likely to cause weight gain? So…?"

"So you can eat as much as you like."

Propping his chin in his hand, Moen uttered softly and mischievously, like the whisper of a devil:

"Do you like it, Miss Lea?"

"… I do."

Amid the vision of this radiant young man, whose presence seemed surrounded by blooming flowers, Lea gazed at him, entranced.

She promptly declared Pasini her new favorite dessert.

…

After leaving the restaurant, the two continued strolling aimlessly, guided only by Lea’s faint recollections of the area.

Yet even without deliberately paying attention, it was impossible to ignore the palpable tension in the air.

The Sacred Baptism Ceremony was approaching, the ancient relic soon to be opened. Everyone around seemed to be brimming with restless energy—while the two of them… were leisurely window-shopping?

The situation felt as thrilling as sneaking out of school before final exams to play video games.

That thought made Moen chuckle. Glancing at Lea, he asked, "Anywhere else worth visiting?"

Lea appeared distracted.

Following her gaze, Moen saw a quaint, old bookstore with a neatly maintained sign glinting under the sunlight.

"A bookstore? Hmm, looks interesting. Let’s go in and have a look."

"Ah, no, you don’t have to…"

Lea quickly shook her head, snapping back to reality.

"We shouldn’t waste the remaining preparation time on—"

"This is important preparation too," Moen interrupted.

Before Lea could finish her sentence, Moen had already pushed open the door.

The bell above the door chimed brightly as they entered. Behind the counter, an elderly woman—half-asleep—glanced in their direction before closing her eyes again.

"It’s bigger than I expected," Moen remarked, scanning the space.

Bookshelves packed with volumes made the place feel cramped. Some books appeared freshly printed; others bore faded covers and visible marks of age.

The shop was silent. There were no other customers.

"This is… unlike anything I’ve done before."

Trailing behind Moen, Lea ran her fingers along the spines of books, her eyes shining with quiet delight.

"You’ve never visited a bookstore?" Moen asked in surprise.

"Not exactly…" Lea responded softly.

"It’s just… I’ve never browsed like this."

Lea’s voice was tinged with nostalgia. "When Ariel and I went out, she was always so busy. I’d plan in advance exactly which books I needed, and we’d just buy them outright. There was never a time to leisurely browse like this."

"I see," Moen said. He plucked a book from the shelves, leafing through it as he turned to her.

"In that case, let’s spend the rest of the afternoon here."

"But… but… No, we can’t. Moen, don’t you still have things you—"

"Everything I needed has been taken care of."

Moen walked over to a cozy seat by the window with the book in hand and flashed her a gentle smile.

"And I just so happened to stumble upon a shop Lea likes—how lucky is that?"

"..."

His smile was radiant.

And that irritating *thump-thump* sound returned to her heart.

Her rational mind wanted to argue, but when she came back to her senses, she somehow found herself already seated by Moen's side. In her hands was a book she had never even heard of before.

"Is this really okay? The Sacred Baptism Ceremony is just days away. Shouldn’t we be preparing more…?"

"You’ve already done plenty of preparation, haven’t you?" Moen said nonchalantly, flipping through the pages of his book.

"These past years—every single day—you’ve been preparing. That’s more than enough."

"More than… enough?"

"Yes. I believe in you."

"…"

He had said these words so many times before, but this time, Lea found herself flustered. She didn’t know how to respond.

So instead, she opened the book, forcing herself to focus on the text.

But her gaze couldn’t help but drift away, sneaking glances at him now and then.

The sunlight, now tinged with the golden hues of late afternoon, streamed through the window and bathed his profile. The soft glow seemed to lend him an almost divine radiance.

It was a face she was thoroughly familiar with after seeing it so often. Yet, inexplicably, it now fascinated her far more than any book, far more than any story she had ever loved.

The stories and knowledge in the book suddenly became dull.

The stirring sensation in her chest had not ceased; instead, it urged her to say something that absolutely must not be spoken.

From afar, the church bells rang, seemingly reminding her of the passing of time.

"Moen..." Lea's voice was somewhat low and hoarse.

"Hmm?"

Moen turned his head, sunlight casting half a shadow across his face, yet he still smiled:

"Is there something on your mind?"

"I..."

"Ah, it's Saintess!"

A sudden exclamation interrupted Lea's words just as they were about to emerge.

Outside the window, the crowd grew animated.

Surrounded by clergy, an opulent grand carriage moved through the center of the street.

Behind the veil of white silk, the modern-day Saintess sat gracefully, enveloped in an endless sacred and pure radiance.

Devout believers kneeled before her, the crowd cheered for her, and she was surrounded and upheld by a tide of people.

But in Lea's eyes, she seemed to be in the loneliest place in the world—on its highest peak.

There was no one beside her.

"It really must be exhausting."

Moen's gaze was also drawn to the Saintess's grand carriage, but he soon turned back and looked at the girl once more:

"By the way, what were you about to say just now?"

"Ah, I... I wanted to say..."

Lea stared at her own hand. Just now, that hand had reached out, as if trying to grasp something, but now she took a deep breath and clenched her fingers.

"I wanted to say..."

Lea tilted her head slightly and revealed a charming smile:

"Good luck with the Ceremony."

"......"

Moen froze for a moment, his eyes reflecting the image of her extraordinarily lovable face, which seemed to glimmer with a peculiar brilliance.

But the brilliance was soon tucked away. He smiled as well and lightly bumped fists with Lea:

"Alright, good luck."