I stood there for a moment as the other priests dispersed from the station, their voices overlapping as they spoke among themselves.
"…I should follow them."
It wasn't a well-thought-out decision. It was more like instinct—stick close, don't stand out, don't get lost.
I fell in behind them, matching their pace. As we walked, my eyes kept drifting around, taking in everything I could. The streets were wide and spotless, white stone stretching endlessly in every direction. Towers pierced the sky, their spires gleaming under the sunlight.
This isn't real.
It can't be.
I told myself that over and over again.
But the more I looked, the worse it got.
"…Shit."
I muttered under my breath, stopping myself from staring too obviously.
It looked exactly like the manhwa.
Not just similar—exact. The layout, the architecture, even the way the light reflected off the marble streets. Every detail lined up too perfectly with scenes I remembered scrolling through late at night.
The novel itself had been fairly niche. Good, but not wildly popular. The kind of story only people who really liked webnovels would stick with.
Then the manhwa adaptation dropped.
That was when everything exploded.
If not for my friend, I probably wouldn't have even known the novel existed. I would've just read the manhwa like everyone else.
…Of course, I did read the manhwa too.
Before I realized it, the priests slowed to a stop.
I looked up.
The church stood before us.
Calling it "massive" didn't do it justice. The structure towered over the city, its walls stretching upward until they seemed to merge with the sky itself. Compared to this, even modern skyscrapers felt small.
"…Unbelievable," I muttered.
The doors opened, and the moment I stepped inside, everything changed.
The air felt heavier. Quieter.
And then—
"Cardinal!"
"Cardinal Reiner!"
People gathered around me almost instantly, like they'd been waiting.
"It's an honor to meet you!"
"Cardinal, may I have your autograph?"
"Are you reading the words of God today?"
Questions came flying at me from every direction, overlapping before I could even process them.
"I—"
Before I could answer even one, a hand grabbed my arm from behind and yanked me out of the crowd.
I stumbled, barely keeping my balance.
"What are y—"
A girl stepped in front of me, her expression sharp and irritated, shielding me from the crowd like a wall.
"Cardinal Reiner has just arrived," she said firmly. "Please allow him time to rest."
Her tone made it sound like this wasn't the first—or tenth—time she'd done this.
The crowd froze.
"Oh! We're very sorry, Cardinal!"
"We didn't realize—!"
Apologies spilled out as quickly as the questions had earlier. One by one, they backed away, heads bowed.
"We are very sorry archbishop Lia."
Once the area finally cleared, the girl spun around to face me.
"I already told you to reject questions if they make you uncomfortable."
Her voice was sharp. Not loud—but cutting. The kind that made your spine straighten on instinct.
"Seriously. If I hadn't stepped in, you might've collapsed right there."
…Lia?
That name surfaced in my head before I could stop it.
Lia... Tarak and Hugo mentioned that name before, a girl who resemble a sister to me, archbishop Amelia Petal.
She had blonde hair and blue eyes that shines when she prays, her voice was soft yet intimidating, and she was cheerful yet serious when people mess with her.
So this girl is Amelia Petal.
She stared at me for a second longer, clearly dissatisfied, then sighed and turned away. "Come on. Don't lag behind."
"... I'm sorry."
"I'm full of your apology."
I followed her deeper into the church.
The place was already full of decorations,
Rows of wooden seats stretched neatly forward, all facing a line of towering statues. Gods and goddesses carved from stone, their presence overwhelming even without words.
The Moon Goddess.
The God of War.
The Goddess of Love.
The Sun Goddess.
The Time God.
If this really was the novel—
No. Don't think about that.
People were already seated. As I passed, some bowed slightly. Others greeted me under their breath.
"Oh, Cardinal Asher, thank God you arrived in time."
"The prayer is about to begin."
One of the priests turned, smiling. "It's been a while since you read the words of God, hasn't it? Why don't you do it today?"
My heart dropped.
What.
Before I could even think of an excuse—
"Ash," Lia whispered beside me.
Oh she will help me get out of this situation, now I know who I can trust.
"...Read it. I want to hear you read it too." she continued.
…You TRAITOR!
"…Sure," I said.
And why did I agree so easily! Man I'm such a pushover.
I stepped forward before I could talk myself out of it.
The book was placed in the lecterns, the same exact bible that Hugo was reading earlier, but it looks more... Expensive.
I flipped the first page and the moment I opened my mouth, the church fell silent.
I read the first line.
I didn't understand half of what the words truly meant, but I read them carefully. Slowly. Like they mattered.
When I finished, no one spoke.
Then—
"…Amen."
All of the priest inside of the church chant the words.
The moment the final Amen echoed through the hall, the tension that had been holding my body upright finally loosened.
People began to move again. Soft murmurs filled the church, the sound of robes brushing against wood, footsteps echoing faintly across the marble floor.
I stepped away from the lectern, my palms still damp.
…I didn't mess it up, right?
Before I could fully relax—
"—Saint!"
The shout cut through the noise like a blade.
Heavy footsteps followed.
Fast. Way too fast for someone inside a church.
Heads turned all at once.
Priests stiffened. Some looked alarmed. Others hurriedly stepped aside as if this was something they were used to—but still couldn't fully stop.
"Saint Jeremiah, please—!"
"I told you not to run—!"
Saint?
My breath caught.
No way.
I turned just in time to see him.
Silver hair, slightly messy like he'd rushed out without caring how it looked. Bright golden eyes—too bright—filled with unmistakable joy. His robe was worn loosely, nothing like the rigid dignity everyone else carried.
And he was smiling.
Running straight toward me.
My mind went blank for half a second.
'Is that Jeremiah!?'
There was no mistaking him.
The Saint and one of the male leads.
The character I'd seen countless times in panels and illustrations—now charging at me like an excited puppy who had found its owner.
"Ash!"
Before I could react, before anyone could stop him, he wrapped his arms around me.
Hard.
The impact knocked the breath straight out of my lungs.
"—!"
Shock shot through my brain, sharp and sudden, like smashing my elbow against a rock.
No—
Worse.
Something exploded behind my eyes.
Fragments flooded in.
Laughter. Arguments. Late nights spent handling paperwork while someone slept on the desk. A warm voice called him "Ash" without reverence. A blade. Blood. White robes stained red.
Protect him. Move. Don't let him die. If it's you, that's fine—
My legs gave out.
"Ash—?"
Jeremiah's voice wavered.
The world tilted.
Sounds stretched and distorted, like I was underwater.
Hands grabbed me—too late.
The last thing I felt was the floor rushing up to meet me, and Jeremiah calling my name in panic.
Then—
Nothing.
◆◆◆
Somewhere far away, voices echoed.
"…He collapsed—!"
"—call the healers, quickly—!"
"Saint Jeremiah, please step back—!"
"…His pulse is unstable—!"
The chaos stayed behind as a man walked away.
He passed through a side corridor, his steps unhurried, until he stopped before a statue of a god carved from pale stone. Without hesitation, he reached up and pulled on its finger.
A soft click echoed.
The wall behind the statue shifted, revealing a narrow passage hidden in plain sight.
The man stepped inside and descended the stairs, the noise from above fading with every step. At the bottom, a small room awaited him—stone walls, shelves filled with sealed records, and a single lamp casting a dim, warm glow.
At the center of the room sat an old man, hands folded, eyes closed, as if he had been expecting company.
"…There seems to be a commotion above," the old man said calmly.
"What happened, Nelson?"
Nelson clicked his tongue and dropped onto the couch near the entrance.
"You could say that."
The old man opened his eyes slightly. "You look irritated."
"I met Ash earlier today."
The lamp flickered softly.
"…Ash," the old man repeated. "You mean Cardinal Asher Reiner?"
"Yeah. Him."
Nelson leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
"There was something off."
The old man didn't respond immediately.
"…Off how?"
Nelson frowned, searching for the right words.
"He looked at me like he didn't have time to pretend," he said slowly.
"Not annoyed like usual. Not patient either."
A pause.
"Just… cornered."
The old man tapped a finger against the armrest.
"That doesn't sound unusual."
"It is for him," Nelson replied.
"Ash always hides it. No matter how much he dislikes someone."
The old man hummed softly.
"…People change."
"Maybe," Nelson said. "But it didn't feel like change."
Silence settled in the room.
After a moment, Nelson added quietly—
"It felt like he was trying to keep himself alive."
The old man said nothing.
The lamp continued to burn, steady and unmoving.
To be continued