A Gentle Visit to Ketel Monastery
Aria strolled around the academy grounds all morning.
Her walk, however, was unlike anyone else's.
Her pristine white habit fluttered gently in the breeze, the symbolic staff at the end swaying in time with her slow steps. Her beautiful face was cast downward in a reverent expression, making her look every bit the living saint.
Devotees trailed behind her at a measured distance, their footsteps echoing the solemn rhythm.
Devotion Aura
The priestess-like figure continued her unhurried pace, and the crowd behind her swelled ever larger with each step.
Valambert, the fanatical leader, shook his silver bell in the solemn hush, and the clear chime rang out across the streets, drawing stares from passersby.
People along the pilgrimage path dropped to their knees or murmured prayers, their faces glowing with reverence.
Some even joined the devotees trailing Aria, and the crowd grew larger the longer she walked.
Aria had never imagined her first venture into the public streets would turn into this. Yet here she was, enduring the humiliation for Zeroa's sake.
Strategic Repose
‘Walking is easy. Rai’s words said my role was light, but following him, the followers behind me felt overwhelming.’
She felt a pang of dissatisfaction at how little responsibility he had assigned her, yet the sheer number of eyes on her now made her heart race.
Aria’s eyes darted across the growing crowd, worry etching her features—would anyone get hurt? Then she spotted Philia in the distance, threading through the alleyways.
Philia caught her gaze and gave a quick nod before vanishing into the crowd.
The signal had come.
Aria kept her dignified steps as she headed toward the Ketel Monastery.
Disguised Saint
* * *
“Please come this way,”
The kind-hearted abbot led Selma inside with a warm smile.
They slipped off the cloister leading to the prayer hall, where a knight and priest waited.
“Lady Selma, I apologize for the inconvenience. We’ve had some unpleasant incidents lately, and we must investigate,”
The abbot bowed his head deeply in apology.
“Truly, we’re sorry. We argued against suspecting the faithful, but the church was on edge after the theft. We had no choice but to act.”
“It’s fine. That’s what happened.”
The abbot’s face showed genuine distress.
Selma understood and handed over the small bag she held, standing before the waiting priest.
“Please forgive my rudeness.”
The priest knelt before her in reverence and began to pray.
Divine power flowed from him, wrapping around Selma and enveloping her entire body.
“I’m sorry, but something is… in my pocket…”
The priest, after performing the miracle, spoke cautiously, clearly embarrassed.
“Oh, I’m sorry. The item I received from my savior—I’ve carried it with me and forgot to take it out.”
Selma reached into her jacket pocket and passed the fountain pen to the knight.
“A splendid fountain pen. Is it Filanger?”
The abbot’s eyes sparkled as he asked, and Selma nodded.
“Yes, you know it well.”
“I use one too. A humble priest like me doesn’t deserve such a treasure, but I treasure it because my mentor gave it to me.”
“I received mine from my savior, and you speak of your mentor. Both of us carry items full of memories.”
“Hahaha, quite right. It seems miracles exist even between people in Filanger’s world.”
With the inspection complete, Selma returned the item and followed the abbot inside.
“The thief was caught, yet the perimeter remains tight.”
“I apologize for the bother. The culprit still hasn’t been found. The Zeroa squad are only suspects. We must not accuse anyone before guilt is confirmed.”
“Do you know who the culprit is?”
Selma asked, and the abbot nodded with a wry smile.
“I’ve spoken with many but watched quietly. From childhood, that child worked tirelessly for a family on the brink of ruin. Gentle-hearted and strong-willed, yet easy to stray in difficult times.”
The abbot gazed into the distance as if recalling old memories.
“I first met him when he delivered groceries. We paid no mind then. When we called a carpenter for repairs, he worked as the apprentice. When we ordered milk, he came again. Even when we summoned a sculptor to carve the sacred host, Zeroa was right there beside him.”
“That must have been surprising.”
Selma knew Zeroa had done many odd jobs as a child, but never imagined it would go this far.
Since she now had to act as if she didn’t know him, she simply nodded quietly. The abbot gave a bitter chuckle.
“My story was too long and boring. Forgive me.”
“Not at all. It was a lovely tale. But if the boy isn’t the real thief, the true culprit could return.”
“Who knows. We must protect the Embrace of Rest until the guards finish their work.”
The abbot, who clearly thought highly of Zeroa, had decided to leave all criminal matters to the guards and focus on his own duties.
A sloppy exterior hid a true cleric who stayed firmly within the bounds of faith.
“Is the relic safe?”
“Of course. No evil heart can reach us beneath Keslokea’s roof.”
Having already been robbed once, the abbot spoke boldly.
“The Embrace of Rest originally belonged in the prayer hall. It holds divine power, but its true value lies in its existence alone—no special effects. It symbolizes Keslokea’s will that humans uphold order.”
The abbot clasped his hands and bowed slightly in ritual before continuing.
“To us believers it holds irreplaceable worth, yet outside these walls it’s merely an art piece. So we placed it here so pilgrims could feel Keslokea’s warmth…”
His voice trailed off in sorrow at the theft.
“But fear not. It is safely stored in the underground vault. Knight guards stand watch, mana-detection barriers protect it, and many unseen safeguards keep it firm.”
“That’s a relief. I hope the culprit is caught soon.”
Selma knew this all too well.
Back in the empire’s early days when the front lines were chaotic, the Ketel Church built a monastery in Legandia and dug underground shelters.
These were meant as safe havens for believers and citizens if war reached the city. Luckily, the shelters had never been used.
The monastery repurposed the sturdy shelter as a vault, housing irreplaceable historical records and ancient scriptures. Now it also held the Embrace of Rest.
Behind two thick iron doors, the entrance remained guarded by knights with burning eyes.
Miracles outside the walls detected intruders, and though the abbot hadn’t mentioned it, mana sensors and traps filled the interior as well.
“It’s an honor to think of donating to our Ketel Church.”
Inside the abbot’s office, Selma sat on an old sofa, sipping tea and shaking her head.
“I can read old texts, so I should be the one thanking you.”
“The vault is open to anyone with proper qualifications. You needn’t donate, but the gods would be pleased.”
Selma had planned to donate along with requesting to read the texts.
The abbot had spoken kindly about anyone reading, but qualifying for such access without being a believer was impossible.
By posing as a major donor feigning deep faith, this opportunity had arrived.
While sharing dull small talk, a knock sounded and a priest entered.
“Abbot, I’m sorry, but I must speak with you for a moment.”
The priest approached with a grave face and whispered something.
Selma could have enhanced her hearing, but she saw no need to bother.
A commotion was already underway in the prayer hall according to plan.
“I’m sorry, there’s a small issue…”
“As head of the monastery, your schedule is naturally busy. I’ll enjoy my tea here—go ahead.”
The abbot, understanding, thanked her and followed the priest outside.
Left alone with her tea, Selma set the cup down and rose.
“Well then. Let’s see how well the abbot writes his signature.”
She pulled out the Filanger pen from her pocket, twirled it once, and approached the desk.
Examining the documents and copied scriptures, she let out a light laugh.
“That sharp Filanger pen writes a beautiful hand—limited to the best. You’ll need more practice on your signature.”
Selma sat at his chair like her own desk, opened the drawer, and pulled out a blank order form.
Copying the abbot’s handwriting perfectly, she filled in the details and signed with flawless strokes.
She folded it neatly, rose, opened the window, and dropped the document outside.
“Kids who have talent and big hearts—those devils are envious. I might have to teach them too.”
Selma smiled happily, restored everything to the way it was, and returned to the sofa to savor her tea.
* * *
“Chaos has broken out in the prayer hall!”
A priest rushed in breathless, and the knight sparring with Diana immediately hurried there along with him.
“Miss Diana, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I was supposed to go anyway, right?”
“No, you’re a guest. We can’t borrow your hand. It’s nothing serious—just wait a moment.”
“Yes, go ahead. I don’t mind. Oh, is there a shady spot I could rest for a while? I don’t know the monastery’s layout.”
The knight, having stayed to the end, pointed toward the inner garden and headed to the prayer hall.
Alone, Diana shrugged and began gathering the practice swords scattered on the floor.
“Hoo—tough work. I hate training under the blazing sun.”
Nicknamed the lazy genius, Diana fanned herself with her hand and walked toward the garden the knight had described.
Of course, since she didn’t know the layout, she took the opposite direction.
“Catch!”
Diana slipped deep into the bushes to avoid the crowd and discovered a rolled-up parchment on the ground, her eyes brightening.
She opened her collar to wipe the sweat between her breasts with a handkerchief, tucked the parchment inside, and buttoned up again.
This was a place no faithful Ketel priest or knight would ever glance at.
Singing a cheerful tune, she lounged in the shade and relaxed.
“Oh? You’re back so soon. What happened?”
Diana asked the knight who had returned quickly, and he replied awkwardly.
“A fight broke out between two academy students…”
“Really? Who?”
“I don’t know the names, but luckily the instructor was here and calmed them in one go. They were like wild boars fighting, and the abbot bowed at ninety degrees in apology.”
The knight’s eyes held deep respect. Had he known the students’ status at the academy, he might have been disappointed, but Diana wanted to protect the illusion and exhaled in relief.
“Without the instructor, the Ketel Church would have suffered great harm. I’ll apologize on behalf of those foolish kids.”
“What do you have to apologize for, Miss Diana? At your age, such things happen. The abbot understands after hearing the instructor’s sincere apology.”
Diana felt a pang of regret for missing Rai’s apology, but she still had work to do.
“I see. Were anyone injured?”
“Fortunately, no one… oh, one student fainted. Could you check their identity? The priest is worried—”
“Of course. Did they get badly hurt?”
“They hit their head and fainted, but the priest already treated them. They’re just resting for their mind and body. There’s nothing wrong. I can assure you.”
The knight spoke confidently to reassure Diana, who worried about the same academy student.
Diana followed the knight into the infirmary.
Pia lay on the white bed, looking pale. She had panicked at Diana’s early arrival, but she had perfectly nailed the act of fainting.
The original plan had been to train and get hurt by accident, but Diana had arrived early, unable to miss the opportunity.
“Pia…?”
“Do you know her?”
“Yes, we’re in the same class. Poor girl—constantly doubted by her boyfriend, yet she can’t leave because of the feelings they built.”
‘Don’t say anything weird!’
Pia wanted to object, but she had to keep pretending to be unconscious.
“What a pitiful woman…”
“Yes, she always smiles brightly, but inside…”
“Hoo-woo…”
“Is she waking up?”
“No, she’s probably having a nightmare. We should make her more comfortable.”
Diana leaned in and began unbuttoning Pia’s shirt.
“S-stay back!”
Startled by her bold movements, the knight stepped outside. Pia’s hand flashed, grabbing Diana’s wrist.
“What are you doing?”
“Virgin check? Give me a chance to solve one of the academy’s Seven Mysteries.”
Pia gritted her teeth and whispered, and Diana smiled brightly.
She then pulled the rolled-up parchment from her own chest and tucked it into Pia’s.
“Delivered~”
“Seriously, don’t mess with me. I’m shaking like crazy.”
Pia buttoned her shirt, wrapping the parchment safely.
“If I just lie here, what’s there to be scared of?”
“It’s like being alone in the middle of enemy lines.”
Though she claimed to be shaking, all Pia had to do now was lie still until people who needed the order arrived.