Fact proved it again: you could always count on Monica’s efficiency.

Noah had barely stepped into the guild president’s office and sat down when Monica ushered in a drowsy avian girl—Shirley.

She’d clearly been fast asleep moments ago, probably lazing on her iron swing under the sun. Now dragged unceremoniously into the room, her eyelids remained glued together, leaving only a narrow slit as she squinted at Noah two meters away and scratched her head.

Still groggy, Shirley’s first words cut straight to the point: “Is it mealtime?”

There it was—a true bird whose entire world revolved around food.

Since meeting her, Noah had seen nothing in Shirley beyond cowardice, eating, and sleeping.

In life philosophy, she was even more extreme than Anna—at least Anna added shamelessness to her trio of traits.

Monica frowned slightly, circling silently behind Shirley, clearly ready to rouse her by force.

“Let her be for now,” Noah waved a hand. “She can skip what comes next.”

Monica, the impeccably loyal maid, nodded and abandoned the idea of choking Shirley awake.

Noah turned away, setting Shirley aside, and reached into his pocket.

Anna and Monica had no clue why Noah summoned them so urgently right after returning from the church.

He called it a test.

A test that could overturn the guild’s current mess.

For the Azure Round Table, this incompetence was their own doing. Anna saw near-zero hope of escape.

Besides, Noah seemed utterly ordinary—unlike his son Belial. No magic, average combat skill, only unnerving calmness.

Anna didn’t look down on him.

Just staying as president to help them survive earned her full respect.

She was shameless, not heartless.

So how could this unremarkable man—beyond seniority—possibly fix anything?

Anna was stumped.

Until Noah placed a crystal-clear, vividly red gem on the table.

*Click.* It rolled twice, settled quietly, and pulsed with an eerie crimson glow from within.

Pascal, golden-haired and blue-eyed, showed no surprise. Hands folded, she gazed meaningfully at Noah.

Anna, however, was spellbound. Before she knew it, her face hovered inches from the table, nose nearly brushing Noah’s stubbled cheek.

“A gem! Exquisitely crafted!” Her eyes gleamed like she’d found a gold vault. Drool nearly escaped. “President… where’d you get this? Steal it?”

“I’ve never stolen anything.” Noah’s tone stayed calm.

His finger tapped the table beside the gem. “It’s… a funerary offering.”

Deadpan lying was Noah’s specialty.

Explaining he’d “ascended to the heavens and snagged a shiny treasure in the mist” sounded far wilder than “funerary offering.”

“From a coffin? Huh… I don’t recall seeing it during the ritual,” Anna tilted her head, replaying that day. “Was I too focused to notice?”

Noah smiled faintly. “Very possible.”

Arms crossed, Anna’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Never mind details. President… I get it.”

Noah raised a brow. “Already?”

Anna scooted closer, chattering while her hand crept toward the gem. “This pristine hue screams royal treasure. One of your descendants probably buried it at your grave as tribute. You don’t collect gems—so why not…”

Noah snatched the gem back just before her fingers touched it.

Holding it up, he peered through its crimson core at her. “You think we can sell it?”

Anna’s gaze never left the stone. She nodded eagerly. “It’d fetch a fortune! Clear our debts *and* buy two warehouses of Ritual Magic materials!”

Greed wasn’t her nature—she just wanted to fuel her magic.

Noah replied flatly, “Then watch your Ritual Magic blow those warehouses sky-high again?”

“Impossible!” Anna declared seriously. “I’ll import Stellarsteel rods from the Northern Continent! Frames built from them withstand fifth-tier magic. Then—"

Shirley suddenly perked up, eyes wide. “French fries? Where?! Golden ones?!”

Noah: “….”

Anna: “….”

*Damn, you’re truly impervious to reason.*

Just as chaos threatened to erupt, Monica cleared her throat—sharp, timely.

Without a word, Shirley and Anna instantly crouched low, hands clasped behind their heads. A practiced, professional surrender pose.

But Anna muttered, “Still… I swear on the Goddess of Death, this gem’s worth enough to clear all debts.”

Monica didn’t scold her. She had a point.

Her eyes turned to Noah, seeking judgment.

Noah considered it. “Selling it… is an option.”

Anna leaped up, grinning. “See?!”

“But,” Noah added calmly, “even if someone bought it, the trouble would dwarf our debts.”

Silence fell at the word *trouble*.

Anna and the others sobered instantly.

“How much trouble could one gem cause…” Anna mumbled, studying it closely. Her expression shifted, growing uneasy.

Shirley mimicked her stare—then blinked, utterly lost.

Noah glanced at Pascal, silent since leaving the church.

Others might call it curiosity. Only Noah and Pascal knew the truth.

Pascal spoke softly, “After I fell from the cross in the underground prayer room… I stumbled.”

Anna snapped her head up. “You said nothing happened!”

Pascal gave a quiet “Mm.” “My residual Holy Light… exploded.”

Everyone knew what that meant.

Even Shirley shuddered, recalling bad memories.

Anna and Monica’s thoughts flew to Noah.

Three meters away. Pure Holy Light impact.

Blindness. Unconsciousness. Worse.

Yet Noah walked, spoke, even teased Anna normally.

*Impossible.*

Noah placed the gem back down.

“The moment the Holy Light swallowed me… this gem absorbed every drop. Not a trace remained.”

Monica concluded quietly, “No ordinary gem holds Holy Light. Even a church-blessed staff might shatter under Sister Pascal’s purity.”

Anna’s voice turned serious. “And it’s so small… how?”

The room grew solemn.

Shirley, sensing the shift, sat quietly.

Noah turned to Pascal. “Could you repeat what you sensed beneath the church?”

Pascal cleared her throat. Deliberate, clear:

“If my senses are correct… this is very likely a Divine Relic of Kale the God of Holy Light.”

“A Divine Relic?!” Anna nearly jumped. “Real?!”

Pascal’s brow furrowed, then eased. “Only if my senses hold true. Within it… I feel my Lord’s presence.”

Anna’s lips twitched.

Even she knew: a Divine Relic of Kale—the most revered deity across continents—wasn’t for sale.

It could earn a dukedom. Reshape nations.

And Pascal misreading it?

Absurd. If a fake fooled *her*, it would fool the Holy Order’s High Bishop too.

After nearly thirty seconds, Anna slowly faced Noah.

“President… is it too late to dig up your grave again?”

“No.” Ice-cold. “This is my only funerary offering. And the beads of your abacus are practically bouncing off my face.”

Anna froze. “Abacus? What’s that?”

“We’ll cover that cultural gap later.”

Noah waved a hand, inwardly chiding himself for once again being led off track by Anna. He swiftly steered the topic back. “In any case, I have no intention of selling this gem.”

As the Divine Relic of Kale the God of Holy Light, its inherent value far surpassed mere wealth or power.

To be safe, Noah wouldn’t sell or transfer it—and even the gem’s very existence had been disclosed only to the guild’s four members, strictly out of operational necessity.

Pascal slowly closed her eyes, speaking on behalf of the Holy Order: “Though this is our Lord Kale’s Divine Relic, He scattered His sacred treasures across the world to benefit humanity. Since you, Guild Master, are its rightful owner, our Order will make no claim upon it.”

“That’s a relief.”

Thankfully, the Holy Order’s doctrines were reasonably lenient.

And Pascal herself matched the reports—setting aside her unique constitution, she was an exceptionally capable and genuinely kind-hearted nun.

Noah felt a measure of reassurance and nodded. “Now then, Miss Pascal, there’s something I’d like to ask of you.”

Pascal’s expression flickered with confusion. “May I ask what it is?”

Noah placed the crimson gem into her hands, a trace of anticipation gleaming in his eyes. “I know your constitution is special—you cannot control the Holy Light within your own body.”

“But… what about the Holy Light contained within this gem? Could you… control it?”