Early that morning, Kroso stepped onto the deck of the royal ceremonial airship. Plush velvet carpeted the entire surface.

The airship had only just touched down. The Archangel hadn’t boarded yet—this was still the time for maintenance and decoration.

Since the Archangel was the honored guest, decorations followed the highest protocol. The deck swarmed with attendants darting back and forth.

None recognized the young general who’d arrived so early. But Kroso leaned against a railing spot that didn’t block their work. Seasoned from dealing with nobles, the attendants merely shot him a curious glance or two before moving on.

A strong wind whipped across the deck, snapping the empire’s flag violently. Kroso’s hair tousled in the gusts.

He didn’t mind. He simply leaned on the railing, gazing blankly at the city gate in the distance.

Truth be told, he didn’t need to come this early. After a sleepless night failing to find a perfect solution, a trace of frustration lingered. He’d come early just to clear his head.

This matter concerning the Archangel was truly thorny…

After all, the Archangel’s position within The Church wasn’t permanent. Beyond automatic vacancy upon death, it could also end through resignation or removal—letting the next candidate angel ascend in order.

The Church maintained a strict training and selection process for candidate angels, ensuring each girl possessed formidable talent and impeccable character. If the current Archangel became unfit to serve, The Church would immediately appoint the most outstanding candidate.

Though Sylvia was the most powerful and beloved Archangel since The Church’s founding, if her weakened state were discovered, retaining her position was uncertain. Even if this inspection passed safely, as long as the toxin remained in her body, the elders could launch further reviews. It felt utterly endless.

This was precisely what Kroso found distasteful. After all, you can’t guard against thieves forever.

“Hey!”

Just as he slipped back into thought, a light call snapped him out of it—a hand clapped his shoulder.

Instinctively alert, he activated Flash Step to create distance and looked up.

“Hey, hey, hey! That reaction’s too intense! It’s me!”

Feeling Kroso’s piercing gaze—as if it could see right through him—the young man with aqua-blue hair froze in surprise.

“Toma?”

Recognizing him, Kroso let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“What had you so deep in thought?”

Clearly close, Toma slung an arm around Kroso’s shoulders once the moment passed.

“How’d you end up here too? Heading to the Holy City?”

Seeing Toma eased Kroso’s mood. He dodged the question and changed the subject.

“Yep! My spendthrift little sister’s wailing about being broke again in the Holy City. So I’m personally escorting enough treasure to fund her reckless spending for years—off to appease that little miss.”

Toma gestured toward the ornately decorated crates being loaded steadily. He offered a strained, wry smile.

“Is that so? Then you owe me a few good meals once we land.”

Kroso knew that wasn’t the real reason. But he wouldn’t pry—it was Toma family business, and he was an outsider.

“Like I’d need reminding?”

Toma burst into laughter.

“Oh right—what *were* you thinking about?”

Curiosity burning, Toma circled back after laughing.

“Nothing. Just personal matters.”

Kroso felt helpless but truly couldn’t answer.

“Not telling? Fine… Could it be… the Archangel?”

Noticing Kroso’s rare fluster, Toma leaned in with a knowing smirk.

“Huh?!”

“Wait—you *did* guess right?”

Kroso’s shifting expression deepened Toma’s amusement.

“How’d you know?”

Slightly embarrassed but honest, Kroso admitted it.

“You visited the Archangel how many times the other day? Others might miss it—but do you think *I* don’t know you?”

Toma turned away quickly to stifle a laugh at Kroso’s bewildered face.

“What’s so funny?! Liking the Archangel isn’t wrong, is it?”

“When you rejected my sister, you weren’t this bashful! Hah—look at you now! I’ll admit it: the Archangel’s captivating. Even *you*, Mr. ‘Career-First Workaholic,’ fell head over heels.”

Toma patted Kroso’s shoulder firmly after swallowing his laughter.

“You…!”

Flushed with embarrassment, Kroso looked ready to swing.

“Whoa, whoa! Calm down. I’m not mocking you—I’m warning you to drop this. Even if the Archangel returned your feelings, you could never be together. Not unless you abandon the Imperial Family and join The Church.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Kroso froze mid-motion, stunned by the unexpected words.

“Do you know the Archangel’s full name?”

Toma held his gaze seriously. Kroso shook his head. He truly hadn’t checked.

“Sylvia Rhine!”

Toma stressed the last two syllables. His expression turned grave.

“Rhine?”

“Exactly! You haven’t been here long since the Imperial summons, but you know Rhine District in the Holy City, right? Arcane Spire—the heart of The Church—stands there, taking up nearly half the district.”

“What are you getting at?”

Kroso still didn’t grasp it fully, but sensed the Archangel’s background was extraordinary.

“A thousand years ago, before the Holy City existed, that area was Rhine City. Arcane Spire was the world’s most powerful organization then. And its founder… was Scott Rhine.”

“Today’s Church grew from the Arcane Spire Alliance. The Chief Elder has always been the Rhine Family’s head. In short… The Church *is* the Rhine Family.”

“Now do you see why I said that?”

“What did you just say?!”

Though Toma’s voice was low, Kroso felt struck by thunder.

How could this be possible?