Faced with Christine’s sudden, summative question,

few believed Hale could answer.

Lenny inwardly smirked—*No escape this time. He’s bound to embarrass himself.*

Summarize Christine’s speech?

Hardly anyone could. The Vestal Candidate’s lecture had spanned too vast a scope:

from the Church’s nascent faith under the Demon God’s oppression, to humanity’s expansion after His fall—compressing the eight Demon Kings’ domains—then core seminary doctrines, culminating in the Black Knights Order’s founding to counter the Eastern Continent’s threat.

Interspersed were fragments of ancient texts detailing exchanges between the First Vestal and envoys from the Divine Realm.

Most dismissed it as Christine showing off. Truth was, even top seminary students—and some bishops—struggled with those texts.

The gap in comprehension between people could be vast—sometimes wider than between humans and dogs.

Those baffling languages from the Divine Realm read like undecipherable ciphers.

How could Hale, a young master known for loafing about, summarize Church history—let alone the Black Knights Order?

They’d scarcely seen him report for duty in three years.

Siman winced inwardly but reasoned it served him right. *Sneaking around with Letitia in the grand auditorium? If anyone should feel shame, it’s him.*

Yet Hale calmly set Letitia down from his lap with gentlemanly grace and rose.

“Vestal Candidate Christine,” he said, “the passage you cited originates from page ninety-two, volume three of the *Holy Scripture: Old Covenant*, correct? Translated: *‘Divine retribution shall befall the irreverent. When the sword descends, the blood of the Demon Gods in the West shall flow like rivers, and the ancient kingdoms of the East shall be annihilated.’*”

Siman’s first thought: *What is he even saying?*

But he carried himself with such conviction she held her tongue.

Christine froze. *Hale understands this? Impossible.* She’d personally translated this fragment only months ago.

Translating ancient texts was a Vestal Candidate’s annual duty; the *Old Covenant* was the most critical.

Legend said only the First Vestal fully grasped the Old Books. Before her death, she left no decipherable translations, declaring: *With the Demon God fallen, these texts shall remain sealed. The New Covenant shall guide humanity.* Yet for millennia, many believed hidden power lay within.

The Church studied them to counter Eastern threats.

This specific line? Christine hadn’t reported it yet. With tensions already high between continents, presenting it to the Cardinal Bishops might provoke rash action.

Hale hadn’t translated it to show off.

He aimed to distance himself from the East. *If the prophecy declares Eastern kingdoms annihilated upon the sword’s descent, how could I possibly be a traitor to the West now?*

Why did he know it? Simple—he recalled the game’s text. The theological language, once decoded by experts, was merely an author-set cipher. Memorize the cipher’s logic, and theology mastery followed.

Silence blanketed the auditorium. Only hushed whispers rose from the twenty-odd seminary students.

Lenny thought: *How is Hale this good at showing off?* He expected a slip-up but dared not challenge him.

Here, Christine’s word was gospel. All awaited her verdict.

Reluctant to confirm Hale’s accuracy—this line could ignite continental war—she spoke:

“Baron Hale, your translation is half correct. The opening is accurate. But the full meaning reads: *‘…and the ancient kingdoms of the East shall hold reverence.’*”

Even half-right turned heads.

Incredulous gazes fixed on Hale. Seminary maidens destined for divine service sent him admiring glances.

Siman suddenly saw her cousin’s stature rise.

The Papal Dominion neared one hundred million souls—yet fewer than one hundred could roughly decipher the Old Covenant. Such figures were revered as near-divine.

Five centuries ago, a fraud claiming full comprehension of the Old Covenant founded a nation through undetectable deception, forcing the Church and monarchs to crush him. Similar incidents recurred, though smaller.

Translating Christine’s passage with only one error signaled theological prowess. To students, Hale could abandon the Black Knights Order and become a bishop immediately.

“Well, half-right isn’t bad,” Hale replied nonchalantly. “Any other questions?”

His display was deliberate—to lower Christine’s favor. He’d sensed the unusual weight in her gaze.

“Follow your heart, Student Hale. Please be seated,” Christine said, cutting him off. Another Old Covenant prophecy would be unwise.

Letitia obediently settled back onto his lap.

She cared little for theology—but today confirmed her suspicion from their first meeting: he’d likely been reading sacred texts then.

She also noted the seminary girls’ lingering glances.

He was undeniably popular. Claiming him might require unconventional means.

…

The lecture concluded smoothly. Christine, disinterested in further showing off, answered a few student questions before dismissing the session.

She intended to invite Hale again. *If the divine calls him special… is it because he, too, reads the gods’ language?*

If so, his value surpassed the hidden power within him.

She must secure him—before Letitia did.

Christine had seen Letitia on his lap. When she made Hale stand, she’d checked discreetly. No noticeable bulge.

Winning him wouldn’t be easy.

But she enjoyed challenges.

Backstage, before sending Maria with another message, Christine received a letter from the archbishop overseeing Ron Cathedral.

Sealed with a golden-black sacred insignia—marking joint origin from the Curia and Inquisition Bureau.

“Has something major occurred in Saint Louis?” she murmured, pinching the letter’s corner.