After a good night’s sleep in a warm, comfortable bed, Sherry went to the archbishop’s office first thing in the morning.

Pope Morse was currently away from Ayideen, so Archbishop Ackerman had temporarily taken charge of all Church affairs.

Ackerman was a middle-aged man with graying hair. Gold-rimmed glasses rested on his high-bridged nose, and whenever the sunlight streamed in through the window, the lenses flashed. He had the air of an old fox.

“Liya, you’ve finally come back.” Seeing Sherry in her white Church robes, he broke into a hearty smile.

“Lord Ackerman.”

Sherry thought the Candlelight Church’s robes were rather revealing, especially the set worn by the Saintess.

Calling them robes was a stretch—they looked more like a dress made of gauzy fabric. Two long slits ran along the sleeves, and whenever she moved her arms, her fair skin and inviting shoulders swept across countless hearts. A deep cleft lay between her breasts, its pale, gauzy covering hinting faintly at the alluring curves beneath.

The lower half of the robe was little different from a long skirt. Through its high slits, people could often catch a glimpse of the girl’s long, pale legs as they swayed.

The robe was supposedly made from precious snow-silk. It felt smooth and soft to the touch, and merchants would surely pay a high price for it. And if you added, “It was worn by Saintess Liya,” the price would definitely be enough to satisfy her!

Too bad the Church required the Saintess to wear her robes at all times. Otherwise, she’d have sold it long ago for some pocket money.

“Have a seat. I always believed you’d make it back safely.” Ackerman gestured toward the chair in front of his desk. Once Sherry had sat down, he let out a sigh. “I’m sorry you had to betray the Church. It must’ve been hard on you.”

“Anything for His Holiness the Pope.” Sherry’s gaze was firm, almost fervent.

Ackerman was the last person in the Church Sherry wanted to face. He wasn’t just foxlike in appearance—few in the Church could match the depth of his scheming.

To avoid giving herself away, she chose not to see Ackerman whenever she could.

As for betraying the Church…

She took a huge, still-beating heart from her ring and set it on the desk in front of Ackerman.

The room fell silent. The heart’s steady thudding matched the second hand of the clock on the wall. It belonged to no living creature—not even to time or space. Its presence drained all color from Ackerman’s office, leaving only the red of the heart and its blood.

This was a holy relic of the Church: Gerald’s heart.

Legend said it was the heart left behind after the ancient god Gerald died. Sherry didn’t know whether the tale was true, but there was no denying that it could drive people mad. Pope Morse had kept it close for years, and that worried her.

Like bizarre objects, ancient gods were mysteries beyond the reach of humanity. Anyone who tried to come into contact with them was doomed to go mad and die. The Church couldn’t do without its Pope, and Ackerman was worried about him too. So when Morse moved the heart, he had Sherry steal it in secret.

The plan had gone smoothly. Aside from Ackerman, no one knew she’d stolen the heart. On her way back to Ayideen, she hired Carlisle, who was headed the same way, to help her shake off the mindless madmen drawn to the ancient god’s heart.

Looking at the vivid, beating heart, Ackerman fixed his gaze on Sherry’s flawless face and gave a bitter laugh. “Sigh… Your kindness and gentle heart will be your undoing one day. Then you’ll understand: those are the two things this world needs least.”

She’d lived in Ayideen since she was little. Though she rarely saw Ackerman, he was still one of those people who had, in a way, watched her grow up.

“I don’t care.” She had no idea why he’d say that, but Sherry answered with a stubborn air.

Saintess Liya’s love for the world was supposed to ask for nothing in return. Sherry had to act this way so Ackerman wouldn’t grow suspicious.

Hearing her say that, Ackerman rose helplessly and went to a cabinet nearby. He took out a large box made to hold the heart.

The box was covered in twisting, snake-like incantations. Carefully lifting Gerald’s heart, he placed it inside and shut the lid. Then he picked up the candlestick on the desk, murmured a few words of Church prayer, and inserted it into the hole at the very top of the box.

The room’s colors gradually returned. The heart’s strange power was sealed inside the box, unable to seep out.

“There’s an abandoned, hidden basement to the left of the stone statue’s third toe. Morse conducted research there once. The truth behind the disaster that struck the Holy City more than a decade ago might be hidden inside.”

Here it comes! Sherry’s eyes narrowed.

The real reason she’d agreed to steal the heart for Ackerman was that he’d promised to give her information about the disaster that struck the Holy City more than a decade ago once the job was done.

She and her younger sister had been adopted by the Pope after that disaster. The filth now clinging to her had appeared around that same time, too. If she wanted to survive, she had to find out what had happened back then.

And her biological parents had very likely died in that disaster as well.

“There are plenty of guards nearby. I’ll create chaos in the city, and when I do, seize the chance to slip inside.” A sharp glint flashed across Ackerman’s glasses.

He hadn’t been in Ayideen more than a decade ago, so he didn’t know what had really happened. After the disaster broke out, the Church had immediately covered it up.

Pope Morse had experienced the disaster firsthand, and the hidden basement had been abandoned not long afterward. There might be some connection between the two.

Ackerman had never entered the basement either. Back when Morse was around, Ackerman had only been a deputy in charge of managing the city-state. He had no authority to enter places the Pope had declared off-limits. Now, though, this was a good opportunity.

“Understood.” Sherry nodded, ready to take her leave.

Keeping up an act was exhausting, especially in front of old foxes who were good at reading people. The more you said, the more likely you were to slip up, so she usually fed old foxes like these a load of meaningless crap.

She’d just reached the door and was about to push it open when Ackerman called after her.

“Liya, I know your biological parents may have died in that disaster. But remember, revenge often isn’t the best way to deal with hatred.”

Sherry gave a slight bow in response to his warning.

“Don’t worry, Lord Ackerman. I only want to know what happened back then.”

Ackerman froze, then awkwardly tapped his forehead, seeming to regret saying any of that.

“True. You’re the last person in the Church I need to worry about. I was overthinking it.”

You could count the people in the Church as kind as Saintess Liya on one hand. If even she could be blinded by hatred, the world would’ve fallen into endless war long ago.