The next morning, Morris woke to find Sherlock half-undressed and fast asleep on his shoulder. His arm tingled with numbness. He gently withdrew it—and froze. *Haven’t I seen this scene before?*

Without his arm as a pillow, Sherlock shifted in her sleep. Her disheveled clothes revealed a hint of pale skin. Morris jerked back sharply. *This isn’t Lenna. She’s not someone I should be curious about.*

He lifted a blanket from the bed and draped it over her. Honestly, he wasn’t surprised. The Blood Pact’s effect was in full swing—drifting toward the other party unconsciously at night was normal. Of course, this Artificer-tier magic’s side effect barely touched Morris. His constitution rendered him nearly immune. Step ten meters away, and the Pact would activate for Sherlock alone. He’d remain untouched.

After all—he was a Saint. An Arcane Source Wizard? Even three tiers above the caster, Arcane Source Magic would still bind them.

Humans have limits.

But a Saint’s limits stretch far beyond.

Morris sat beside her, watching her peaceful, lovely sleeping face. *This is absurd. We met yesterday—how are we already sharing a room?*

Truth be told, when he’d overheard Kaudos’s demand in the church corner yesterday, his first reaction wasn’t anger—it was shock. *How cliché can harassment get?!*

But seeing Sherlock’s flushed face as she actually prepared to undress stunned him more. *Wait—you believed him?! Holy crap!*

*To sacrifice so much just to save someone… How kind are you?* he thought.

To spare his new companion from falling into the same shadow that haunted him, Morris abandoned his plan. He stepped forward and pulled Sherlock into his arms.

He’d meant to observe silently. Everything felt staged: Kaudos’s overly pious act, young Master Bael’s perfectly timed entrance, Brook—a Law Aspect Sorcerer—stooping to robbery. Brook could’ve earned steady income just by registering with the Church of Lunhai and completing one monthly task. The pieces fit seamlessly… yet sent a chill down Morris’s spine. Like an invisible hand slowly turning the gears. He hated that feeling—especially if this trap wasn’t even meant for him.

Then it hit him. *Right. Just check the Church of Lunhai’s registry. Even if “Brook” is fake, there are only hundreds of shapeshifting Lawform-tier sorcerers. I can investigate them one by one.*

Just then, Sherlock let out a soft moan. Morris caught his name faintly. Curious, he leaned closer. Her cherry-colored lips parted slightly. “Morris…”

Morris held his breath, heart pounding.

“Lord Morris…” she breathed, cheeks flushing. “There… that place is…”

*Is she actually this bold?!* Morris covered his face, feeling a nosebleed coming on—

“—Sir Alex’s sacred, inviolable banana!” Sherlock cried, eyes still closed.

…Huh?

“No, Lord Morris—no, Your Holiness! If you must touch it, please use protection!”

Huh?!

“What? You’d willingly take the passive role? Truly worthy of the Pope! Then please use this…”

Hey.

Since when is *that* praiseworthy for the Pope?!

And what are you mimicking with your hands?! Is that an… *anal plug*?! What novels have you been reading?!

If it’s *inviolable*, then DON’T VIOLATE IT!!!

Morris screamed internally. Silently, he pinched her cheek. Sherlock winced, struggling in her dream. “Mr. Morris… even if I’m momentarily more interested in them… don’t be jealous. We’re companions, right? Come watch this magnificent scene…”

*You’re awake, aren’t you?*

*And why would I watch myself being… that?!*

Morris raised an eyebrow. He pinched both her cheeks firmly. Sherlock finally woke, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes. Sniffling, she sat up—only to find Morris sitting primly at the desk, solemnly flipping through a Lunhai scripture.

“Mr. Morris,” she wiped her tears and hurried over, “I just had the most amazing dream!”

*Ugh.* Morris covered his face. *What even is this creature—airheaded, cool, and a full-on yaoi fangirl?!*

A knock came at the door. “Come in!”

An elderly nun entered with a tray. She blinked at the bedroll on the floor, then smiled at them. “I thought things might’ve gotten… intense between you two.”

“Please don’t entertain such wild fantasies,” Morris said wearily.

Sherlock covered her burning face, silent.

“Thank you for your aid yesterday, Wizard Sir,” the nun said, carefully stepping around the bedroll to set down the trays. “We’ve been here decades—from prosperity to decline. Few believers come now. They prefer larger, flashier churches.”

“Faith is fading,” Morris murmured after a pause. “Prayer’s become a show—something to flaunt or wear as a label, not true devotion.”

“Though you’re a wizard, you understand Lunhai,” the nun shook her head gently. “Even if I disagree.”

As Pope, Morris knew Lunhai’s plight all too well. Once one of the Six Great Holy Churches, it hadn’t produced a single Pope-tier Sorcerer in two centuries. Lunhai’s seat among the Six Divine Pillars—founded by six ancestral Popes—had stood vacant for two hundred years. As state religion of Luna Duchy, it failed to assert theocratic authority over the monarchy. Normally, the church reigns supreme—but here, House Stuart subtly overshadowed Lunhai. That’s why Alex joined the Royal Arcane Source Magic Association after retirement.

Without a new Pope-tier Sorcerer soon… the Church of Lunhai might not survive.

He nodded silently. “My apologies. I was presumptuous.”

“No—your words hold truth,” the nun smiled. “But I still believe the divine grants us believers protection… and blessings.”

She quietly left. Sherlock pulled on her white ice-silk stockings, stretching her slender calves toward the window. Morning light filtered through the fabric between her toes. “Mr. Morris… do you follow the Xike Faith?”

“No.” Morris knew it well—a church championing science over faith in an intangible deity. As someone who valued reason, he often recommended it. “I believe in nothing.”

He smiled. “I only believe in myself.”