Emil Cathedral, the pinnacle of sanctity.
Beneath the pitch-black firmament, a spherical construct forged by alchemy revolved with precision, like stars orbiting along their predestined paths.
The sound of ticking gears and moving cogs filled the world. The silver moon and golden sun converged here, and countless celestial trajectories intertwined. Within the vast sea of holy light, intricate and enigmatic patterns emerged.
Beneath the firm earth, cloaked by towering ramparts, the projection of a relic replaced the area’s original form, becoming the most colossal construct present here.
Yet, in this false world that seemed capable of displacing reality, it still appeared so insignificant.
“Ulrons.”
Beneath the celestial dome, above the relic’s projection.
An elder garbed in white robes stood upon the void, casting a solemn gaze toward the relic.
“I am here.”
“How is the analysis of The Lost Land progressing?”
“The outer regions are almost completely done.”
An ethereal voice with an unknown origin responded.
“But the inner regions remain unknown. Someone must open a passage.”
“What are the findings from the analysis?”
“Everything is normal.”
“Everything is normal... is it?”
The Pope stood with hands clasped behind his back. His demeanor was entirely different from the kind, elderly figure who once summoned Moen. Small as he was compared to the vastness of this place, in his presence, it felt as if the entire world revolved around him.
Lowering his gaze, he mulled over those words, staring at the relic’s projection as he fell into thought.
“How are the Divine Pillar Sanctum and Judgment Sanctum performing their roles?”
“They have completed the tasks expected of them.”
“And the saintess?”
“She is praying to the Goddess.”
“Very well.”
A glimmer of brilliance flickered in the Pope’s weathered eyes. He issued the command:
“Then let them begin. The children must be growing impatient.”
“Yes.”
The responding voice faded away, leaving the vast space filled only with the roaring sounds of moving celestial tracks.
...
“What’s with you, standing there spacing out?”
Pink Bear sashayed into the gathering hall where everyone had congregated. Scanning the room with a cheeky grin, he grabbed the absent-minded Moen and teased:
“Ever since you sneaked away with that girl and came back, you’ve been acting strange. Spill it—what mischief did you two get up to behind my back?”
“Mischief? Oh, it was indeed mischief.”
Moen slapped Pink Bear’s paw away, smirking coldly.
“I’m just contemplating where I should bury a certain shameless and slanderous bear. Uncle, do you have any suggestions?”
“Hmm, I’d suggest burying me in the chest of a lovely maiden. That would cheer me up, and who knows, maybe I won’t tell Celicia on you later.”
“Tell about what?”
Standing tall with exaggerated righteousness, Moen declared, “I am pure, upright, and beyond reproach!”
“Ha! That’s what every scoundrel says.”
“I’m not a scoundrel!”
“Every scoundrel says that too!”
“You don’t even have a girlfriend; what right do you have to call me a scoundrel?”
“I, uh...”
“Moen.”
A soft, melodic voice interrupted their banter.
The girl, now wearing a fresh green dress, stood quietly beside Moen, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.
“Sorry I’m late again. You’re not mad, are you?”
Her long hair cascaded down her back. With her hands folded behind her and her new outfit accentuating her adorable features, her shy yet radiant demeanor was captivating.
Even in the dimly lit venue, it seemed as though her presence brightened the space.
“Damn.”
Pink Bear’s eyes widened as he pinched Moen’s shoulder. “Look at you! About to go for the battle? Yet she changed into a fresh new dress—one where her thighs are just begging to be accidentally seen. And you want to call this innocence...?"
A gleaming crystal card appeared in front of Pink Bear.
“Twenty grand on here—go buy some lollipops,” Moen said flatly, holding the card between his fingers.
“Yes, oh faithful and loyal Moen,” Pink Bear replied without hesitation, snatching up the card. Standing upright with a mock seriousness, he assured:
“I, Pink Bear, am the most tight-lipped being to ever live. Rest easy, for today’s events will remain between you, me, and the heavens...”
“Leave.”
“Already on my way out.”
Pink Bear performed an exaggerated bow like a gentleman, and before walking away, he mimed zipping his lips. Then, he cheerily rejoined the academy’s squad, devoid of any dignity befitting an elder.
“What were you discussing just now?” Lea blinked her wide eyes, curious.
“Discussing Pink Bear’s favorite lollipop flavor. Turns out the guy likes those flavored for little girls—what a creep! You’d better keep your distance from him.”
After exchanging nods and pleasantries with Fannie, a senior from the academy, Moen turned back to Lea, smiling. “No more of that topic. How did you sleep last night?”
“I was a little nervous...”
Lea clenched her fists.
“But I managed to get sufficient rest!”
“That’s good. This increases your chances of becoming the saintess by at least ten percent...”
A cold snicker interrupted him.
Anne, the vivacious girl with white stockings, intentionally brushed past him, her burly guardian looming behind her like a menacing shadow.
Moen frowned slightly but said nothing, stepping aside to let them pass.
“Well, well, full of energy this morning, huh? Already setting your sights on the saintess seat?”
On his other side, Paul followed the platinum-haired princess, casually calling out a greeting to Moen.
But as he passed by, Paul leaned in and murmured: “Watch your back, Moen Campbell.”
“Oh?”
Moen raised a brow, meeting his gaze.
“No need for such a scary look—I’m not here to pick a fight.”
Smiling craftily, Paul narrowed his eyes.
“I’ve just heard rumors that someone’s already chosen you as an easy target.”
“Ah, I see.”
Moen nodded, showing no surprise.
“Entirely within reason.”
He had no illusions that his stunt the other night—throwing a mere fork—would intimidate everyone.
These so-called elite geniuses didn’t scare easily. Some might even interpret his actions as a direct provocation.
Who would people choose between a pretty-boy clinging to a princess’s coattails and the monstrous heavy hitters with terrifying accomplishments? Even a fool would know the answer.
“Well, you’re certainly entertaining, Moen Campbell.”
Paul chuckled, eyeing Moen’s unchanged expression. However, a sharp look from the platinum-haired princess pulled him away.
Moen’s gaze followed Paul briefly but then shifted. His eyes locked with another pair—warm, spring-like—and belonging to Freya.
Surrounded by a crowd, she smiled gently and nodded at him.
From within her shadow, a suffocating hostility emanated.
A mental note came to Moen’s mind: *Sycophants meet dead ends.*
He diverted his gaze.
Nearby, Miss Faye Siegel continued looking drowsy, the veteran adventurer known as the Thunder Spear standing close behind her.
“Looks like everyone’s here,” someone remarked as the murmuring ceased.
Clad in ceremonial robes, a clergy member appeared, summoning magical scrolls with a wave of their hand. The scrolls hovered briefly before landing in everyone’s grasp.
“These are spatial magic scrolls. In life-threatening emergencies, they will activate automatically to teleport you back.
But keep in mind, you’ll only have one chance. So, I urge all of you to act with caution before making any decisions.”
The clergy member swept an intense gaze across the crowd.
“You should already be familiar with the rules. Your task is to explore deeper. Any discovery you make is yours to keep. Beyond that, whoever uncovers the secrets of Canterwell lost a thousand years ago will receive a special reward from His Holiness, the Pope:
The magical notes of the legendary Origin-Level Archmage, Mela Dormir!”
“What?”
“The one from the textbooks?”
“The Archmage from a thousand years ago?”
“Those are worth as much as any ancient relic!”
The crowd grew restless, but Moen looked completely lost.
The notes of that old lolicon?
What am I supposed to do with those—use them as noodles to soak in soup?
As he pondered the usefulness of such an item, the golden gates before him began to open.
Through them, one could almost feel the breeze from another world.
The Holy Baptism Ceremony Trial had officially begun.
