I stayed cooped up at home for another week, going nowhere, and didn’t see Father Sir even once. When I asked Mother about his plans, she simply said she didn’t know either.
Confinement was utterly boring. Only Saches came to visit me during this time. As for those so-called "brothers" who’d sworn to follow me through fire and blade? Not a single one showed their face after that night.
I finally saw through them. Some people were worth keeping close; others simply weren’t. I swore to myself: if I survived this ordeal, Saches would truly be my friend.
"Checkmate."
One evening, bored out of my mind, I was playing chess with my sister.
She’d beaten me—who knew how many times already? My skills were no match for hers.
"I quit. I always lose!" I swept the pieces aside and flopped back onto the bed. My sister stood up, gathering the scattered pieces one by one. How did she manage to slot each piece into its exact spot in the box without even glancing at them? She didn’t even look at the pieces on the floor—just grabbed and stuffed.
"So, Brother," she asked, eyes fixed on me, "what shall we play next?"
"Nothing. This is so dull. How much longer do I have to stay locked up?"
As the words left my mouth, both of us froze. That familiar aura had returned.
*Thud. Thud. Thud.*
Three soft knocks on the door—Father Sir’s signature rhythm.
Finally. After that morning’s conversation, this was the first time I’d seen him again.
"Father Sir, good evening!" We bowed in unison. Only then did I dare lift my head to gauge his decision.
He looked more exhausted than when I’d last seen him days ago, yet his eyes burned with excitement—not mere happiness, but raw, fervent excitement. I let out a quiet breath. It seemed Father Sir had indeed found a solution.
"Um… Father Sir… am I… in the clear now?"
He didn’t answer. Instead, he studied me from head to toe, as if trying to see straight through my bones—or perhaps etching my image into his memory.
"Weihui," he said at last, "take your brother to change. The most formal, highest-grade attire. I’m taking him to meet some very important people."
"Yes, understood." My sister moved to pull me away.
"Wait, Weihui—no, Hui’er…" Father Sir suddenly called her back.
"Come here. Let me look at you."
His tone was strange. Though he’d never been unkind to Weihui, he’d always favored me. His usual manner with her was detached, almost indifferent. But now? It was different.
Obedient but puzzled, my sister stepped before him. What he did next startled me: he reached out and gently ruffled her hair. I saw her flinch slightly—clearly startled too.
"Heavy burdens may soon rest on your shoulders," he said softly. "Your brother hasn’t lived up to expectations. You’ll have to strive for both of you."
*Wait—what’s this ominous talk? Strive for both of us?!*
"Enough. Take your brother to change. Quickly, no delays."
Bewildered but obedient, we hurried off.
Frankly, I hated formal wear. Putting it on—and taking it off—was always a tedious ordeal.
Two elegant maids fastened layers of accessories onto me while another styled my hair. Weihui watched silently from the side.
Finally done. The mirror reflected a stranger: a sharp silhouette in black tailcoat, gold buttons and braiding perfectly aligned, a deep blue tie, and our family crest pinned proudly to my chest. No longer a spoiled young master—I looked like a promising young noble.
In the courtyard, Father Sir had been waiting awhile. His gaze swept over me, assessing.
"Hmm. Passable. Let’s go."
Only then did I notice his own transformation.
He wore the vestments of the Supreme Bishop. A voluminous black robe, embroidered with intricate golden runes, concealed his frame. A circular holy emblem—radiant sunburst at its heart—hung at his chest. Silver gauntlets covered his hands, and sturdy boots peeked beneath the robe’s hem.
In his other hand, he gripped a heavy Scepter—the symbol of the Supreme Bishop of the Breath of the Sun. It amplified Divine Arts immensely… and could be swung like a club if enemies got too close.
I knew he rarely used it in combat; his true weapon was a silver greatsword. Carrying the Scepter was purely ceremonial—a declaration that he acted now as Supreme Bishop of the Divine Church.
Outside, the carriage stood ready. Our loyal driver helped Father Sir aboard and asked:
"Where to, my lord? It’s quite late."
"To Supreme Bishop Cormor’s residence. We’ll collect something there first, then proceed to the Divine Church. Move out."
