Conquest Sea, Moncarlo Island.
During the daytime, the main island of the Moncarlo Archipelago was unusually bustling. The only place of worship on the island, the Conversion Church, was swarming with people. The small square in front of the church was packed with a dense crowd, and the not-so-large chapel inside was already filled to capacity.
In Moncarlo—a city overflowing with desire—this public religious facility normally received little attention. On most days, the number of visitors was pitifully small. The Conversion Church itself wasn’t large; in a city of several hundred thousand people, it was considered quite modest. Even accounting for that, the place was typically deserted, with only a few priests and nuns tending to a handful of devout elders. Such a lively scene as today was entirely unprecedented.
The reason for today’s sudden commotion lay in the commencement of the Holy Relic Exhibition inside the church. For the first time, a holy relic from Holy Mount was being displayed at the Conversion Church, drawing in crowds of locals and tourists alike.
Inside the modest chapel, heads crowded together. The usual sermon pulpit had been removed and replaced by a large glass display case guarded solemnly by four knights. Inside, laid upon a spread of silk, was a large patch of gray-white, coarse, tattered linen. The edges were clearly charred. Despite its grimy appearance, the cloth was covered with densely penned scripture. A placard stood before the case, explaining the relic’s backstory.
"The Sacred Remains Scripture of Vitamio"
According to legend, this was the burial cloth of the martyr-saint Vitamio, who perished in the Muddy Stream War. His body was once seized and desecrated by heretics during the war. The devout holy warriors who had followed him sought to reclaim his remains, but it turned out to be a trap—the retrieval squad suffered grievous losses.
At that moment, Vitamio’s soul, unwilling to see others sacrifice themselves for his corpse, caused his own body to ignite in spontaneous combustion. By destroying himself, he eliminated the squad’s objective. After the flames subsided, only a fragment of the burial cloth remained, drifting into the hands of the survivors. Mysteriously, the warriors were then blessed by Vitamio, and in their grief and fury, gained tremendous strength. They broke through the ambush and even turned the tide, annihilating the surrounding heretics and securing a tragic yet glorious victory.
Later, one of the Seven Living Saints of Holy Mount held a ritual by transcribing scripture upon the cloth, thus bestowing divine blessing upon it. It became a recognized holy relic, enshrined in memory of Vitamio and the courageous retrieval squad. Such a relic could only be guarded in a designated church or by a duly qualified holy relic tour commissioner.
“Though Vitamio’s body was never recovered, his unwavering faith and courage remain with us through this Sacred Remains. To honor his sacrifice, a Living Saint transcribed scripture upon the cloth, elevating it into a holy relic…”
A nun clad in white habit was delivering this story to a gathered group not far from the display. Her gentle smile accompanied the telling. The crowd nodded in understanding as she finished, murmuring sounds of awe.
“That concludes the story of the relic. You may now move closer to observe it more intimately. If there are no further questions, please proceed that way—I need to prepare for the next group.”
Vania Chafferon addressed them kindly. But rather than dispersing, the crowd stayed gathered around her. Many showed no interest in the relic and instead eagerly called out questions.
“Sister Vania! I have a question! What year were you born? How old are you now?”
“Me too! Sister Vania, how did you convert those heretics in Addus? What did you say to them? Is it true you defeated the Hookshark Gang the moment you arrived in Moncarlo?”
“Sister Vania, you rose from an ordinary nun to a church celebrity overnight. What are your thoughts on that? How did you accomplish such seemingly impossible feats? Any secrets?”
“Also, Sister Vania, how tall are you? If it’s not too much, could you share your weight and bust-waist-hip measurements…?”
…
A barrage of odd and personal questions surged in from every direction. Vania was surprised to find that the crowd surrounding her behaved like overzealous reporters, bombarding her with enthusiasm—not about the relic, but about her as a person.
“Umm… everyone, please be mindful of your questions. My duty here is to introduce the holy relic. I’m mainly here to answer questions about the relic and scripture.”
Vania said with an awkward smile. But the crowd responded.
“Who cares about the relic or scriptures when Sister Vania is so fascinating and beautiful? Tell us more about yourself!”
“Yeah! Nobody cares about that burnt rag—we’re here for you!”
“Sister Vania, I love you! I pray devoutly for you every day!”
“Ah… um…”
Faced with this raucous and awkward situation, Vania could only respond with a sweatdrop expression, unsure how to proceed. She did her best to field the “devout followers” who more closely resembled frenzied fans.
Eventually, overwhelmed, Vania found an opportunity to extract herself and fled to one of the back rooms of the church. There, she finally caught her breath.
“Hah… hah… Holy Relic Exhibition… Weren’t they all supposed to come for the relic? How did it turn out like this…”
She sighed while seated on a chair, finally escaping the chaos. At that moment, a familiar voice spoke beside her.
“My apologies, Sister Vania. Unlike other places, the religious atmosphere here in Moncarlo is rather weak. People lack reverence toward the Church—that’s why this happened.”
Vania paused, turning toward the voice. It was Laurent, who had just entered the room, speaking apologetically.
“Mr. Laurent? You’re here too? I encountered a bit of trouble, but it wasn’t serious enough to trouble you for help…”
Vania spoke with surprise, but Laurent smiled and replied.
“You misunderstand. I’m not here because of the exhibition. I came to find you, Sister Vania, for a different matter.”
“A different matter?”
“Yes. My father—the true ruler of Moncarlo—is hosting a banquet tonight at Sovereign Sea Fortress, and he wishes to receive you and your knight escorts. He hopes you’ll attend as planned.”
Laurent spoke calmly, and Vania looked puzzled.
“Your father… Captain Edward? Didn’t he previously have no arrangements to meet me?”
“Ah… that was a mistake on our part—the children misunderstood his intentions. He never meant to avoid meeting you. We misunderstood and told him you had no plans, and he scolded us quite harshly when he found out.”
Laurent offered a sheepish explanation, and Vania nodded thoughtfully.
“So that’s how it is…”
“Exactly. It was our mistake. Since you’re here in Moncarlo, of course Father would want to meet you. Please be ready to attend the banquet this evening.”
“Since it’s an invitation from Captain Edward, there’s no reason to refuse. We will be there on time,” Vania replied.
Laurent smiled and responded politely.
“Then we shall await your honored presence.”
…
Time passed quickly, and before long, the sun in the sky had dipped below the western horizon. Daylight receded, and night arrived.
As darkness fell over Moncarlo, flickering lights lit up across every corner of the city. The grandest building in the city—Sovereign Sea Fortress—was especially brilliant with lights.
Inside the grand hall of the fortress, long banquet tables were laid with various delicacies. Vania sat in the same seat she had used not long ago, quietly enjoying the simple and modest dishes on her plate. The long table was nearly filled with guests—significantly more than those who had attended the previous welcome banquet.
Just like before, the banquet attendees were all members of the Gibbs family, the ruling household of Moncarlo. In addition to the previously seen Buna and Perine, many other Gibbs family members were present—some old, some young, including children of only seven or eight, and elders in their sixties or seventies.
Despite the large family gathering, no one behaved like before—no one dared speak ill of Vania or act rudely. Everyone sat upright and ate with the utmost decorum. Even the usually uncouth Buna now used knife and fork properly and silently focused on her meal. The hall was filled only with the sounds of utensils and chewing—an air of oppressive silence hung over everything.
The source of this pressure sat at the head of the long table: an emaciated old man wrapped in a beast-hide robe, chewing his food slowly and deliberately. Every movement from this terrifyingly aged man radiated a silent dominance. None of the Gibbs family members dared make a wrong move. He was none other than Edward, the unquestioned patriarch of this place.
“I heard… that the Conversion Church was packed to the brim today. In all my centuries, I’ve never seen Moncarlo’s people so religiously fervent. For so many to cram into a church most wouldn’t visit even once a year—Sister Vania, your appeal is quite something.”
While taking a bite of fish, Edward addressed Vania with a faint smile. Vania immediately responded humbly.
“The people of Moncarlo were drawn to the holy relic by its divine calling. It is the power bestowed by the Lord’s blessing…”
“Heh… the Lord’s blessing, you say? To the laypeople unfamiliar with the mystical world, that so-called holy relic is no more than a piece of old cloth. What drew them in was not the relic, but your own charm, Sister Vania…”
Edward continued to smile as he spoke, and Vania, flustered, quickly responded.
“Oh no, I’m merely a cleric… I wouldn’t say I have anything resembling charm…”
“Why not? A young nun with such legendary achievements—and a good appearance to match—of course you’d attract the admiration of many, especially the youth. In this era of thriving news media, making headlines and showcasing one’s capability often carries more weight than preaching skills. To many, you’re the Church’s rising star—marketed to suit modern publicity needs. No different from a famous dancer or singer. Listen to me, if you picked up a bit of singing and dancing… you could outshine most celebrities.”
Edward said all this as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Vania found herself utterly lost for words at his remarks.
“U-uh…”
“Haha… Don’t take it too seriously, Sister Vania. Think of it as an old man’s jest. Regardless, your visit to Moncarlo has been most welcome. Not only did you help us eliminate a hidden smuggling route, but you also brought many to genuinely reflect within a church. You have our sincerest appreciation. Allow me to toast you.”
Edward raised his glass of red wine. Seeing this, everyone from the Gibbs family also paused and lifted their own glasses toward Vania. Vania responded quickly, raising her wine and sipping it slowly after the toast.
Seeing Vania finish her drink, Edward silently set down his own glass and continued.
“Since Sister Vania has traveled from afar, as the host, it’s only proper for me to present a token of respect. I happen to have acquired a gilded holy scripture—not a mystical item, but one of great value. I offer it to you as a gift.”
With a wave of his hand, a maid slowly stepped forward from the side of the hall. Upon the tray she carried lay a Radiance Scripture—its cover adorned in gold and etched with intricate patterns. The moment Vania saw it, her eyes lingered, clearly captivated by its appearance.
Immediately, one of her Sacrament Knight escorts rose, took the scripture, and began inspecting it. Vania turned her gaze from the scripture back to the elder seated at the head of the table.
“Thank you, Captain Edward.”
Seeing her accept the gift, Edward nodded silently.
…
Soon, the banquet at Sovereign Sea Fortress concluded. After bidding farewell to the Gibbs family, Vania exited the fortress and boarded a carriage back to her hotel. As she got in, she turned to one of her knight escorts and asked.
“Brother Gaspard… Is there anything unusual about that scripture?”
“Hmm… we’ve examined it thoroughly. There’s no sign of cognitive poison, nor any mystical trace in its contents.”
Gaspard replied after a moment’s thought. Vania continued.
“In that case, let me have it. The craftsmanship is quite exquisite—I’d like to admire it during the ride.”
“Understood. One moment, please.”
Gaspard handed her the fully inspected gilded scripture. Vania received it and boarded the carriage. With her escort following, the vehicle began its journey back to the hotel.
Inside the gently swaying carriage, Vania studied the book under the lamplight, somewhat entranced. After admiring the cover, she opened it and began browsing the contents.
Within the thick pages were scriptures more familiar to her than anything else. Yet somehow, this very familiarity seemed to possess a magical pull, compelling her to keep flipping through. Her gaze danced between the elegant script and the ornate decorative lines, as if glimpsing some new revelation hidden within.
Her brief perusal during the ride wasn’t enough. Even after returning to her room, Vania stayed up late, poring over the familiar scriptures by lamplight, lost in their allure—as though chasing a deeper truth embedded within. She flipped page after page until she finished the entire tome. By then, it was already the early hours of the morning.
“The sea… is amniotic fluid… the original amniotic fluid… the Holy Mother’s amniotic fluid…”
Murmuring woodenly, Vania leaned back in her chair after reading the entire scripture. Just then, a woman’s voice rang out in her mind.
“Well? Vania, how are you feeling now?”
“Hmm… I don’t feel anything particularly strange. Just a little… off. I think that’s only because you warned me in advance, Miss Dorothy. If you hadn’t, and I hadn’t paid attention, I might’ve noticed nothing at all…”
Holding her temples, Vania frowned slightly and then added in her mind.
“Miss Dorothy, am I experiencing cognitive poisoning right now?”
“Yes. It’s very mild, but the scripture definitely contains cognitive poison that is now subtly eroding your mind. Don’t pray to Aka for purification just yet. Help me with some testing first.”
Dorothy’s voice rang out again. Vania curiously responded.
“What kind of test?”
“It’s simple. I’ll send you a few images mentally. If any of them trigger a special reaction, let me know.”
“Images? Alright then… let’s begin.”
Vania replied to Dorothy. Soon after, the first image appeared in her mind.
It was a black-and-white photograph of a luxurious silver pot. Below it was a small sign.
“Item No. 1: Lathia Jade-Handled Urn”
“Well? Do you feel anything from this photo?”
“No… nothing at all.”
“Alright, next one.”
Dorothy’s voice rang out again as the image changed. This time, it was a gem-studded curved dagger, with a sign below it.
“Item No. 2: Prince of Addus’ Embedded Ceremonial Dagger”
“And this one?”
“Still nothing…”
“No problem. We’ll take it slow…”
And so, one item after another flashed through Vania’s mind. Each time she said she felt nothing, another image followed. After a dozen or so, finally—one item photo caught her attention…