The main road was bustling with pedestrians and carriages. The closer they got to Montpelier, the fewer trees there were on either side of the road. In the distance, the silhouette of the city emerged. Olovice could see the iconic holy cross of the church’s high tower and the tall buildings painted in various colors by the sunset, some of which were already lit up.

Olovice felt a bit dazed at this moment. This scene somewhat resembled the civilized society in his memory, albeit a dimmer version.

“Ah, we’re finally almost there,” Susan stretched lazily. The crow that had been following them flew high into the sky and disappeared. Emile absentmindedly watched the road ahead, seemingly waiting for something.

Soon, a carriage approached them. As soon as the driver stopped, a young man got off. He looked thin, wore a black hat with a curved brim, and after paying a five-penny fare, he walked towards them.

“Noah, why are you so late?” Emile complained. In the past, whenever she saw the crow, Noah would arrive quickly. This time, she had waited a long time without seeing her boyfriend, leaving her a bit disappointed and angry.

“Sorry, Emile. The editor-in-chief called a meeting this afternoon, and I just got off work. As soon as I finished, I came out of the city to find you,” said the young man named Noah. He had slightly curly brown hair and a pair of common deep brown eyes, with a refined and fair appearance. After speaking, he took a rose out of his coat, gazing at Emile. The crow landed back on his shoulder, also looking at Emile.

Seeing the flower, Emile was no longer angry. She took it and sweetly asked, “How did you know I was coming back today?”

Noah saw Emile take the flower and got on the carriage. Olovice had already saved a spot for him, so Noah sat beside him, with a briefcase between them.

“I often let Parker out to see if there’s any sign of you in the distance. If there is, it gets very restless and urges me to find you,” Noah said, stroking the crow’s feathers.

Olovice crossed his legs, placing the “Holy Light Canon” on his lap. He recalled Emile’s previous description of her boyfriend: shy, taciturn, a knight made of stone? Is this what they call love is blind? Emile’s filter for Noah was indeed thick.

If Noah could be considered someone who doesn’t know how to sweet-talk, then just how open and romantic are the people of Mincheswei?

Emile fiddled with the rose, in a great mood. Her eyes sparkled as she said, “Parker is such a clever little thing. Noah, let me introduce you. This is Deacon Olovice, and Olovice, this is Noah.”

Olovice looked at Noah, extended his hand, and said amicably, “Hello.”

Noah looked at the exceptionally handsome deacon, lowered his eyes, extended his hand for a brief shake, and said, “Hello.”

Olovice continued reading, catching a whiff of the scent of graves and ashes on Noah.

When it was time to enter the city, Olovice got off the carriage in advance, thanking Emile and Susan. Susan handed Olovice two business cards, one from a bank and one of her own.

“Mr. Olovice, be sure to find me when you need to open a bank account,” Susan reminded him.

“Alright,” Olovice replied with a smile. Mr. Briel and Lily also came over, with Lily standing behind Olovice.

“Noah, this is the family doctor I hired, Mr. Briel. With him around, I feel healthier than before,” Emile said. Briel glanced at Noah, who nodded in acknowledgment.

They had reached the city gate, and everyone was about to go their separate ways.

Briel took out his identification, a patriarch certificate stamped by the Northern Continent’s Natural God Sect, and a Victoria ship ticket, handing them to the security guard at the gate. At dusk, a time prone to mischief, the security officer was extra vigilant. After repeatedly testing with a detector and with Emile’s testimony, Briel finally entered Montpelier.

When it was Olovice’s turn, he naturally took out a letter from Archbishop Ulrich of Montpelier and a recommendation letter from his teacher. He glanced at the detection machine at the city gate, a spherical magic detection device installed above, rotating 360 degrees without any blind spots. Not long ago, when it scanned Mr. Briel, the red light converged into a point, and the detection machine emitted a beeping sound. There were several image magic stones nearby, said to contain the faces of wanted criminals in the magical world. Once encountered, they would immediately lock on.

No wonder there were fewer cults and heretics now. Olovice twitched his mouth. With cameras and surveillance, anyone who dared to act recklessly would be in trouble.

Olovice let the light shine on his white robe. The security officer looked at the letters, registered them, and returned them to Olovice.

“And her,” Olovice said, bringing Lily forward. Before the red line could scan her, he proactively said, “She’s my potion apprentice, and like me, she’s from the countryside.”

Lily was so nervous she didn’t know where to put her hands and feet. Every time she entered a big city, she would transform into a small animal, never like this.

“Fill out a form here. I’ll keep a record first, then check for any sources of contamination. If there’s none, you should take her to your church for formal registration when you have time,” the gate’s security officer, usually a member of the Order God Sect, reminded him.

“Thank you,” Olovice replied.

After Lily finished the paperwork, she stiffly walked to the officer, who held something resembling a witch’s crystal ball, a contamination detector. Like the magic detector above, it was invented by the Knowledge and Wisdom God Sect, specifically targeting dangerous individuals carrying forbidden items or heretics polluted by evil gods, as well as fallen demons and witches.

Lily breathed a sigh of relief and placed her hand on it.

There was no reaction.

She passed smoothly.

Once inside the city, the first thing Olovice did was take out a copper penny and buy a newspaper from a newsboy by the roadside. Lily followed him, watching as the deacon headed towards the church.

After a few steps, he stopped, and Lily heard him mutter to himself, “Let’s take a carriage.”

So, he took her and got on a carriage.

“To the Holy Cross Church,” Olovice instructed the driver. His deacon’s white robe was particularly conspicuous and iconic. The driver, about forty years old and a local of Montpelier, focused on driving.

Olovice sat in the carriage, observing Montpelier. Most of the city’s buildings were made of brick and stone. There were narrow sidewalks on either side of the road, and a casual glance revealed dark, sewage-filled alleys, low and densely packed residential areas, and various small markets and shops in a chaotic mix. As the carriage entered the main road with tracks, the road was divided, creating a clear distinction between the slums, lower town, and upper town.

Street signs began to appear, and the alleys had names. Even the shops along the road started to change: spice shops, jewelry stores, leather tailoring shops, opera houses, hotels, inns, government office buildings, and villas clearly belonging to the upper class. Before nightfall, the streetlights were already lit.

As expected, the Holy Cross Church was at the very center of Montpelier.

After paying the four-penny fare, Olovice looked up at the church made of white marble, thinking it was much more imposing than the small church in Letania. If it were in Letania, their small church would have closed by now. However, the Montpelier Cathedral still had church staff on duty.

The church had kept up with the times, no longer using eye-stinging candle lamps. Instead, glass electric lamps illuminated the surroundings.

As Olovice and Lily entered the church, a staff member approached them. The two monks were momentarily surprised by Olovice’s appearance. One of them, holding a registration form that had been sent earlier, smiled and asked, “Are you Deacon Olovice?”

“Yes,” Olovice replied, carrying a briefcase and taking out two letters to hand over. “I was recommended by Father Andre to come here for an exam with Bishop Ulrich.”

“There aren’t many deacons without formal education these days. You’re the first I’ve seen in years,” the other monk remarked.

“Bishop Ulrich will return from Morito City by steam train tomorrow. You’ll have to wait a day. Once he arrives, I’ll inform the deacon officer about your matter and then notify you of the time,” the staff member said. “Your potion apprentice needs to get a safety badge. I’ll take you there.”

“Thank you,” Olovice replied, following the monk.

The Cross Tribunal affiliated with Montpelier was just behind the church on the street. To Olovice’s surprise, it wasn’t very large, and there weren’t many people inside.

“Most of the tribunal colleagues have been transferred to the Black Tower Forbidden Zone. There’s a troublesome demon there, causing a lot of trouble in recent years. Sealing it requires more power,” the monk explained, noticing Olovice’s confusion, his expression solemn.

Olovice and Lily followed him to the tribunal’s basement.

“Is this the half-blood witch? Come over and place your hand on this handprint,” an old man with eerie silver-white eyes said, casually revealing Lily’s identity. He wore a black priest’s robe and pointed to a large stone wall occupying most of the table. The stone wall was heavy and thick, as if it had fallen from a whole piece, with irregular edges full of cracks. In the center was a large handprint, deeply embedded in the stone wall.

The handprint was filled with many crisscrossing lines, covering all five fingers, with some silver light spots flickering.

Lily stepped forward and placed her hand in the large handprint.

She felt half of her magic power being involuntarily drawn out, and a faint light appeared on the large handprint, scaring her so much that her snake hair stood on end. She quickly ran back behind Olovice.

The old man took a rectangular silver badge from a drawer under the table and tossed it onto the table, then tore off a label and stuck it on the badge. “Come over, write your name with a pen, and wear it wherever you go.”

Lily, suppressing her fear, returned and wrote her name.

While Olovice curiously observed everything, the old man suddenly looked at him. His eyes, devoid of pupils, were filled with a brilliant silver light, staring straight at Olovice, causing the magic within him to fluctuate.

“You come over too.”

Olovice smiled and stepped forward. His white priest’s robe made him appear even more holy. Since entering the tribunal, he hadn’t thought about anything. High-ranking priests were dangerous, and one of their spells was called Flashback. If a priest skilled in soul magic accidentally saw him killing someone, it wouldn’t be good.

Although he had erased the souls of those he killed, making it impossible to summon them, Olovice didn’t want to take that risk. So he acted like a curious fool, discarding all thoughts.

“Hello,” Olovice greeted respectfully, honoring the elderly.

The old priest squinted at him for a long time. Just as Olovice’s thoughts were about to wander, he suddenly felt the old man heavily pat his shoulder.

“What a rich and pure holy spirit,” the old priest praised, pointing two fingers at his own white eyes. “In my eyes, your spiritual power is almost overflowing from your body. Your hair, eyes, and entire body are glowing, like a walking holy spirit.”

“How about joining the church’s Black Cross Tribunal?” the old priest stood up, and Olovice realized that the old man’s muscular body made his priest’s robe look like a combat uniform.

Cold sweat dripped down Olovice’s back, and he quickly shook his head. “I just want to be a priest.”

“Useless,” the old priest scoffed. “What’s so good about being a priest? Tribunal members are much freer than church staff. They don’t have to study and take exams all day and can travel everywhere.”

“Traveling to catch demons? No, thank you,” Olovice refused again.

The old priest was at a loss for words, muttering, “Young people should have aspirations.”

“I heard the demon in the Black Tower Forbidden Zone hasn’t been dealt with yet,” Olovice mentioned an example.

“The demon in the Black Tower Forbidden Zone is a special case. Even among demons, it’s a freak. You’ll know when you see it,” the old priest said.

“Is it really that powerful?” Olovice’s curiosity was piqued. He had been in this world for so long and had never seen a demon.

“Yes, we even gave it a name as its code,” the old priest said.

“What is it called?” Olovice asked.

“Samuel,” the old priest slowly replied.

“It’s called Samuel.”