Tivian, East Coast of Pritt.
It was afternoon, and in the cathedral district of North Tivian, a bustling crowd had gathered, filling the area with excitement. In the spacious plaza before the Hymn Cathedral, citizens from all across Tivian had assembled. The broad square was crowded with people from all walks of life.
Though today was Sunday—a day when citizens came to the church for weekly worship, making it the most crowded day of the week—even so, there had rarely been such a turnout in the cathedral district on a typical Sunday. A glance across the square showed not only devout and pious believers but also many ordinary townsfolk who normally showed little interest in religious activity. The reason for their presence was at the center of the square.
At the plaza’s center stood a modest wooden platform, temporarily erected and guarded by several stationed protectors. At its heart rested an elegant glass display case. Inside lay a worn, unattractive piece of cloth inscribed with the dim script of a holy scripture. From the layout of the scene, it was clear that the entire platform had been built simply to elevate this case for easier public viewing. Yet, almost no one’s eyes were fixed on the relic. Instead, all attention was drawn to the figure standing beside it: a young nun clad in a white habit.
“Ahhh… Are you really Sister Vania? You’re even lovelier than in the newspapers. As expected of a saint who received the Holy Mother’s revelation…”
On the platform surrounded by the crowd, an elderly woman now stood in front of Sister Vania, grasping her hands with trembling excitement as she spoke. Hearing this, Vania gave a somewhat awkward smile and replied gently.
“Ah… madam, I am merely a humble nun tasked with guarding a holy relic. I am but one among the billions of the Lord’s ordinary followers, no saint by any means…”
“With everything you’ve experienced, Sister Vania, what else should we call you if not a saint? I’ve been a devout believer all my life, praying to the Holy Mother every day, and now the Lord has finally granted me grace by sending a living saint to appear before my eyes. Here, let me hold your hand a little longer—if I can take home just a sliver of a saint’s blessing, then my children and grandchildren will surely be safe.”
“What kind of logic even is that…?”
Aside from Vania, the old woman, and a few guards, many other citizens were also on the platform. All had come up from the square below and now stood in line behind the old woman, led in an orderly queue by the guards. After the woman was reluctantly guided off the platform due to prolonged conversation, a male citizen stepped forward next and grasped Vania’s hand without hesitation.
“It’s finally an honor to meet you, Sister Vania! You’re the pride of Pritt. Who would have thought Tivian could produce someone like you, who, under the Lord’s guidance, has achieved so much in such a short time? I heard you even managed to inspire people in a depraved place like Moncarlo. That’s incredible!”
The man gushed with admiration, and Vania, unsure how to respond, could only offer a dry, polite smile.
“Thank you… thank you for your support…”
It had been more than a month since Vania was officially appointed by Holy Mount as the Holy Relic Bearer and began her pilgrimage. After completing her first stop in Moncarlo, she continued her journey, visiting multiple cities across Ivengard, Cassatia, and Falano—until finally returning to her homeland, Tivian in Pritt.
In Tivian, she was given a grand and high-profile reception. Not only did countless local citizens flock to the port to greet her, but even Archbishop Francesco of the Pritt Diocese came in person. The resulting scene caused minor traffic congestion around the port.
Although Vania had been warmly welcomed in the previous cities as well, none had reached the scale of the welcome in Tivian. This was largely due to the home-field effect—Vania was from Pritt, from Tivian itself. The legendary feats she had accomplished abroad and the widespread news coverage had made her a figure of local pride. The newspapers in Tivian were eager to dedicate more space to her stories, which gave Vania more influence at home than anywhere else. This influence was reflected not only in her welcome but also in the official start of her holy relic exhibition.
As a globally renowned metropolis, Tivian’s population far exceeded that of a small city-state like Moncarlo. When the exhibition began, the sheer number of visitors overflowed the sanctuary of the Hymn Cathedral. Helplessly, the local church authorities had to relocate the event to the plaza outside. A temporary platform was built so citizens could view the relic from afar and also take turns seeing it up close. Yet it was clear: compared to the relic itself, Tivian’s citizens were far more interested in the young nun who guarded it.
On the platform, standing beside the glass case, Vania greeted one devout visitor after another with patient smiles and handshakes. Compared to the holy relic inside the display, these pilgrims were far more eager to interact with her personally.
This scene reminded Vania of the time she had faced visitors in Moncarlo—but the crowd in Tivian was far larger, and its size alone made her feel overwhelmed.
Fortunately, compared to the rude or even lewd onlookers in Moncarlo, the pilgrims here were much more respectful. Most were genuinely devout believers inspired by her stories in the newspapers. Others were nationalists proud to see a Pritt-born nun earn international acclaim. When interacting with these two types, Vania felt far more at ease than she ever had in Moncarlo.
The public exhibition lasted two to three hours. Even toward the end, there was no sign of the crowd thinning. Just when Vania felt she was at her limit, the Tivian church authorities finally called an end to the day’s event. Once the crowd had been gradually dispersed, the exhausted Vania was at last able to rest.
“Hahhh…”
Sitting on her favorite bench inside the Hymn Cathedral, Vania took a long drink from a water bottle and let out a deep breath. She handed the bottle to the side, where a fellow nun in a standard habit immediately accepted it. Before long, a swarm of ordinary nuns gathered around her, crowding in with excitement.
“Vania, Vania! Tell us more about what happened after the sea barbarians captured you! How did you convert them? Did you really receive the Lord’s Revelation?”
“Aya, Sophie, she finished the sea barbarians story last night. Now it’s time for the heretics in Addus. Vania, is it true you fought them head-on?”
“I wasn’t there last night! I missed it! For the sake of our old friendship, come on—keep telling the story, Vania…”
“Vania… what does it feel like to receive the Lord’s Revelation? Can you tell us? Do you have any special habits…? How can we receive the Lord’s Revelation too?”
…
Surrounded by her old companions chattering incessantly, Vania, who had just finished dealing with countless pilgrims, suddenly felt a headache coming on. Never good at refusing others, she didn’t even know where to start responding. Just as she was feeling overwhelmed, a familiar voice rang out like a savior.
“What are you all crowding around here for? Have you finished your work? This isn’t break time yet—what are you doing here?”
A stern voice cut through the clamor, instantly silencing the talkative nuns. Hearing it, all of them instinctively stiffened and turned toward its source. There stood an elderly nun in a black habit with a stern face.
“S-Sister Anlei?!”
Startled by the elder nun’s sudden appearance, the nuns—except for Vania—immediately scattered away from her and stood in proper formation. Sister Anlei swept her sharp gaze over them and continued sternly.
“Well? What are you all still standing around for? Go do what you’re supposed to do. Everyone else is working hard on the exhibition—only you few are loitering around. What kind of example is that?”
“Yes, Sister Anlei!”
The nuns chorused in response and dispersed at once. In an instant, only Vania and Sister Anlei remained. Seeing her old companions finally gone, Vania quietly let out another deep breath, then stood up and politely addressed the older nun.
“Thank you, Sister Anlei. I really didn’t know how to respond to them…”
“Haha… No need to thank me, Sister Vania. After all the work you’ve done today, you deserve a proper rest. How could I allow the pride of the Pritt Diocese to feel out of place in her own homeland?”
Sister Anlei spoke with a kind smile as she looked at Vania. Hearing this, Vania replied somewhat bashfully.
“‘Pride of the Diocese’… that’s not a title I can claim…”
“Why not? You’re the most renowned figure our Pritt Diocese has produced in the past two or three centuries. I never imagined that your simple pilgrimage would result in such remarkable achievements—deeds straight out of the scriptures, fit for saints. Our diocese has truly produced someone extraordinary. Everyone’s proud of you—even the Archbishop.”
Sister Anlei continued smiling, and Vania replied humbly once more.
“I’ve only been following the Lord’s teachings and doing what I ought to do… I never expected things would turn out like this. I always believed that whatever I could do, others could too. I was just… lucky.”
“To walk such a path while upholding the Lord’s teachings proves that Her gaze has been with you all along. That’s not something that can be explained away with ‘luck’. Cherish the opportunity you have now and remain true to your heart. Keep striving forward, Vania. There are already people on Holy Mount who recognize your potential—your future is boundless.”
“I will,” Vania answered sincerely. Sister Anlei nodded with satisfaction and continued warmly.
“By the way, Vania, how long do you plan to stay in Tivian? Pritt is your home—no one would mind if you lingered here a while.”
“Hmm… Actually, I’ve already made plans. Since Pritt is my homeland, I do intend to stay longer. But I won’t remain only in Tivian. I want to conduct a smaller-scale pilgrimage across the Pritt interior.”
Vania explained, and hearing this, a curious look appeared on Sister Anlei’s face.
“Oh? You’re planning a deeper pilgrimage through Pritt?”
“Yes. Since I’m Prittish myself, the people here can relate to me more easily. We share the same language and culture, so I have more affinity with them. The effectiveness of my preaching and pilgrimage should be stronger than it would be abroad—as we’ve clearly seen today.
“That’s why I want to make the most of this rare opportunity. Aside from Tivian, I’d like to visit a few more cities within Pritt and maximize the impact of this pilgrimage.”
“A few more cities in Pritt, huh? Hmm… that does make sense. You’re more likely to have influence here, so it wouldn’t do to stay just in Tivian. It’s a good idea to visit other places too. So then, have you already decided on your route and destinations?”
Sister Anlei nodded thoughtfully. Vania answered with certainty.
“Of course. It’s all been decided.”
…
Glamorne, capital of Handshire, southwestern Pritt.
At dusk, as the sun dipped below the horizon, the surface of Lake Starbind near Glamorne’s outskirts reflected the golden afterglow of sunset. In the soft twilight, fishing boats slowly rowed back toward the shore. At a small lakeside dock, fish vendors were purchasing fresh catches, while along the tranquil lakeside path, well-dressed townsfolk could be seen strolling leisurely. Bathed in sunset hues, the entire lake radiated a peaceful charm.
Seated on a grassy hillside, Dorothy gazed across the vast, expansive lake. Her expression was one of quiet contemplation as she looked at the mirror-like surface reflecting the amber sky.
“In ancient Prittish folklore, the First Wind King, Arthur, received a stone sword from the hand of a Lady of the Lake and thus began his reign. Tales and myths about the Lady of the Lake have been passed down for generations across Pritt—they’re part of the cultural foundation of this land.”
“And the original figure behind the Lady of the Lake… is the Mirror Moon Goddess. Under the suppression of the Radiance Church, her mythology was reduced to mere legend and fairy tale. Yet even after a thousand years of dilution and transformation, the symbol of the ‘lake’ has endured. This proves that the lake held vital importance in the old Mirror Moon faith.”
“Then… could the so-called Glahomir’s Mirror actually refer to Lake at Glahomir itself? Both mirrors and lakes are core elements in the Mirror Moon belief. It’s highly likely…”
Staring at the lake, Dorothy pondered. She had a growing intuition—could the so-called Temple of the Moon be hidden within these waters?
Holding onto that question, she sat silently by the lake’s edge, waiting for night to fall. She wanted to see if, during the time sacred to the Mirror Moon Goddess—under the light of the moon—the lake would reveal anything unusual.
Minute by minute, time passed. As the sun dipped below the horizon, darkness began to blanket the sky. A crescent moon rose, and the lake’s still surface reflected moonlight and starlight like a celestial painting.
As night fully descended, Dorothy activated the miniature corpse marionettes she had scattered about, sending them to fly out over the lake to investigate. But just then, a strange phenomenon appeared before her eyes…
Within her spiritual vision, Dorothy saw that after nightfall, when the crescent moon rose, a faint, dim red began to stir upon the calm, dark lake. It appeared like a thin mist, quietly spreading over the water’s surface—soft, subtle, yet steadily expanding.
Seeing this, Dorothy’s memories were instantly triggered. She recalled New Year’s Eve more than half a year ago, in the remote Barrett Manor on the outskirts of Tivian—where the Eight-Spired Nest had once summoned a similar red mist… a blood-red fog that had nearly consumed her.