As a nun of the Holy Order, Pascal should have been adept at channeling Holy Light.

But unlike others in the Order, her innate constitution made it impossible to draw out the sacred power within her smoothly or safely.

She was a walking Holy Light bomb.

No countdown. No warning. Not even she knew when it might detonate.

According to Monica’s report, this slender, golden-haired, blue-eyed nun had been a key contributor to the guild. During the climb up The Spire, her accidental Holy Light bursts shattered monsters to dust.

That was precisely why the Azure Round Table—despite having two walking disasters—had reached the fourth floor.

Holy Light was divine power. And though the gods loved humanity, their love extended only to *humanity*.

Monsters were not on the list.

Of course, intense Holy Light also harmed humans—damn thing was blindingly bright!

Noah’s plan? Use the gem to guide Pascal’s power steadily.

Even failure was acceptable.

He needed solutions; Pascal’s ability was just one path. If she couldn’t control the gem’s energy, he could still deduce clues about her unique constitution.

Every phenomenon concealed an essence.

Walking that path confirmed he was moving correctly.

More importantly—if he unraveled Pascal’s mystery, he might one day decipher his own resurrection… even his transmigration to this world.

To live peacefully here, many secrets remained.

First: Pascal’s issue.

…

“How’s it going?”

Noah looked up at Pascal, who cradled the gem, breath held, utterly absorbed. Eyes shut tight, she hadn’t heard him.

The crimson stone lay still in her palm—unchanged in luster or shape.

Time ticked on.

Silence so deep in the guildmaster’s office Noah could hear his own pulse.

Outwardly calm, but Noah saw her effort: brows furrowed, breathing ragged, sweat beading on her forehead, tracing her cheek, dripping from her chin.

He waited patiently.

Then—

A faint tremor rippled through the gem in Pascal’s hand.

Noah’s eyes lit up. He rose from his chair.

Inside the stone, a soft glow flickered—a single thread of pure white, drifting upward like silk.

An indescribable aura filled the room. More white threads spiraled out, weaving into a cluster.

Before Pascal hovered a miniature sun of Holy Light. She opened her eyes slowly, gazing at the stable orb with stunned disbelief.

It glowed bright and sacred. Its surface shimmered like milky liquid—smooth, flawless, ripple-free. Within, countless threads of light wove rapidly, merging, braiding into a sphere of pure power.

“Is this… success?” Her voice trembled with wonder.

She’d never controlled Holy Light before. To her, it was a haughty entity—proud, willful, refusing submission. Like a conceited flame dancing only for itself.

Now, for the first time, it felt *stable*.

As if a wild flame had been tamed, an arrogant earl imprisoned. (Blasphemous? Maybe. But that was her honest thought.)

Her Holy Light had been unruly for so long—even the most patient soul would snap after a decade of dealing with a relentless brat.

Anna, emboldened, stepped closer and gently tapped the orb.

*Hiss-hiss-hiss.*

She pulled back—only a clean finger bone remained.

Flesh vaporized instantly by the orb’s intensity. Ash clung to the bone.

“Definitely Holy Light. Highly pure,” Anna stated flatly, flicking her bone.

Flesh and blood sprouted visibly, stitching her finger whole in seconds.

Noah stared. Touching molten lava would’ve hurt less. Yet Anna hadn’t flinched.

“How are you not in pain?” he asked.

“Of course it hurts!” Anna crossed her arms proudly. “But I’m used to dying. My pain sensors are veterans. Forgot my backbend demo last time?”

*That* was a backbend? Her spine bent like a folding knife. Noah had never seen anything more horrifying.

Truly, a legendary being like the Undying One defied logic.

Noah sighed inwardly. The Holy Light before him blazed brighter. Squinting, he said, “At least you can control it now. This means our guild finally has reliable combat strength…”

He trailed off.

The orb had swollen past human-head size—a bloated balloon.

Holy Light still streamed from the crimson gem like gravity-pulled asteroids, slamming into the orb, merging instantly.

Radiance intensified.

“Pascal, put that giant lightbulb away—it’s blinding!”

No reply.

The orb swelled further. Sacred energy surged wildly. Soon it stood half a meter tall—still snow-white, utterly pure.

*Too excited to hear me?* Noah raised his voice: “PASCAL!”

“Gu… Guildmaster…”

Pascal peeked from behind the orb, half her sweat-drenched face visible. Panic and fear etched deep. Her lips quivered.

“I think… I can draw it out… but I can’t control it…”

Noah: “….”

*How are you unreliable too?!*

He’d braced for failure. But *partial* success? Worse than failing outright!

Still—Noah had weathered storms.

This chaotic orb was at least slightly saner than Shirley’s 【I’m afraid of heights】.

*Salvageable!*

“Expel the Holy Light!” Noah steadied his voice. “If you can draw it out, you control part of it. Cast harmless spells—use it all up.”

Pascal froze. Lips parted, then sealed shut.

Noah’s heart sank. *Please say something normal.*

He’d overestimated the Azure Round Table again.

Blushing, Pascal whispered:

“Guildmaster… actually… I don’t know any magic.”

Noah blinked. “Aren’t you a Holy Order nun?”

“My title was granted by Priest Muir,” she murmured, even softer.

“But you grew up in a church! Not a single holy spell?”

“I’m ashamed to admit…” She looked away.

The orb now blocked Noah’s view entirely. From behind it came a tiny, devastating whisper:

“I’m illiterate…”

Noah: “….”

The next moment—

The orb struck the ceiling.

Stability shattered.

Like a punctured balloon, it erupted—a tsunami of sacred radiance swallowing the entire guildmaster’s office.