“Good morning, Sister Hiran.”

“Good morning, Olovice.”

After his early morning walk, Olovice returned to the church and saw Sister Hiran doing the daily cleaning. He joined her in tidying up. The church had been around for many years, and both the altar and the benches below the steps were noticeably old, some creaking when sat upon.

Olovice squatted to inspect the last row of benches, then went to the basement tool room to fetch a hammer and nails to reinforce the wobbly bench legs. Sister Hiran watched Olovice working with a smile.

Olovice always woke up early, often going for walks at dawn.

“Sister Hiran, this is the tip I earned yesterday at the Borgia Vineyard, for you,” Olovice offered. Since he lived at the church and didn’t need much money, he thought it could be added to the church’s communal funds.

“No need, Olovice,” Sister Hiran pushed the Hearn banknote back to him, saying, “Keep it for yourself. You’ll need it when you go to Montpelier.”

“Olovice, keep it up,” Sister Hiran encouraged. “Martin and I have high hopes for you.”

“Thank you, I’ll do my best,” Olovice decided to review the Holy Rite of the Light Cross again in the evening, hoping to memorize it and improve his cultural score for the upcoming exam.

“Martin is preparing breakfast in the kitchen. I’ll go check if he’s done. Olovice, please call the old gentleman,” Sister Hiran instructed methodically. “The infant baptism is best done at sunrise. After breakfast, Martin and I will accompany you to the Lamon family.”

“Alright,” Olovice agreed and went to the prayer room at the back of the church. The prayer room, also known as the confessional, was located on either side behind the central Light Cross of the church, with four small compartments in total. Usually, only the two on the left were open, and the old gentleman was resting in the right-side confessional.

Before Olovice could knock, the old gentleman came out.

“Good morning, Olovice,” the old gentleman, looking more spirited after a good sleep, said, “I can already smell the sunlight and the awakening plants.”

“Mr. Briel, it’s time for breakfast,” Olovice, always respectful to the elderly, handed the old gentleman a wooden cane he found in the tool room, thinking Mr. Briel might need it.

Mr. Briel took the cane, making it easier for him to move, and went to the first-floor living room with Olovice.

By the time they reached the living room, Father Andre was already waiting for them.

After breakfast, Olovice tidied up his appearance, put on his Light Cross necklace, and took a simplified version of the Bible. The most important thing, the holy water, was tucked into his sleeve. Fortunately, the glass bottle was small; otherwise, Olovice would have to figure out how to add a pocket to his deacon’s robe.

The clothes he wore were standard issue from the church: a white shirt and black trousers underneath, with a white robe over it. The robe had a slit up to the calf, with a distinctive cross pattern at the hem and a decorative waist sash. He had two sets in total.

Olovice cherished them greatly.

Since mastering the Holy Light Illumination and Healing techniques, Olovice had performed five baptisms. In Letania Town, all the newborns in the past six months had been baptized by him.

In big cities, baptisms could only be performed by church priests, while deacons were more involved in office work, like organizing religious ceremonies to increase the church’s local influence, expand its reputation, and develop offline followers.

But Letania wasn’t a big city.

At Uncle Lamon’s house, Olovice found that they had already invited many relatives, friends, and neighbors.

Olovice first observed the baby boy Mrs. Luer was holding. He was a chubby little guy with a loud cry and kicking legs, full of energy and very healthy.

Sister Hiran prepared a basin of warm water, and Brother Martin had a dry, soft wrap ready on his arm.

Olovice took the newborn, using the 0-3 month wrist hold method, supporting the baby’s head and neck with one hand and the buttocks and waist with the other. He gently rocked the baby, and the crying immediately subsided. The baby blinked his light brown eyes.

Although he knew that, according to common sense, babies this age couldn’t see people, Olovice still played with him a bit to help the baby relax and feel secure.

The surrounding people were amazed. Those who had become parents knew how difficult it was to handle a newborn.

But every child in Deacon Olovice’s hands was incredibly well-behaved.

Olovice thought to himself that most people in the countryside didn’t hold babies correctly. He was shocked the first time he saw parents lifting a baby by the armpits during a baptism.

He quickly educated them on the proper way to hold a baby, advising new parents not to be so reckless, and explained about infant colic that occurs around one month old. Parents should change their holding position to the airplane hold instead of cursing the nonexistent twilight fairy in the evening.

It wasn’t the twilight fairy’s mischief.

Olovice wasn’t sure if they listened, but he repeated it every time after a baptism.

As for why Olovice knew so much about infant development, it was thanks to his neighbors. The couple was very busy, even after having a child, and sometimes Olovice would help look after the baby. Whenever he didn’t understand something, he would look it up, and over time, he learned how to care for a child.

Placing the baby in the warm water, Olovice gently soothed the startled little one, then poured the holy water from the glass bottle over the child.

He made the sign of the Light Cross with his hand and recited the baptismal blessing.

“In the name of the Father of all gods, the all-knowing and almighty Lord of Light, I baptize you with the Holy Spirit. May you shine like the morning star, always walking the right path.”

“May the Holy Light bless you.”

After the ceremony, Brother Martin immediately wrapped the child in the waiting cloth and handed him to the Lamon family. Friends and relatives praised the lucky child.

After the lively event, Olovice received a baptism fee and two bags of breadsticks from Uncle Lamon.

On the way back to the church, Sister Hiran and Brother Martin advised him not to go into the dense forest. Olovice nodded and mentioned his encounter with a twilight fairy the previous day.

Sister Hiran said, “You did the right thing, Olovice. Never give your hair, blood, or true name to those magical creatures. If any fairy is skilled in curses, you’ll be in trouble.”

“Especially the fairies of the Aenor faction. They’re very jealous and vengeful. If you encounter them, it’s best to avoid conflict.”

“I remember the teacher saying he once defeated a salamander when he was young. Is it very powerful?” Olovice asked curiously.

“Of course, a salamander is a mid-level fairy of the Aenor faction. The priest’s poor health is partly due to the salamander’s fire poison,” Sister Hiran said, her mood dropping as she recalled the past. “Martin and I are ordinary people. At that time, only the priest fought. He lured the salamander into the dense forest and defeated it, but he was seriously injured.”

“Although the Montpelier Cathedral later sent healing potions and commended the priest, the salamander’s fire poison remained in his body, impossible to completely eradicate.”

Olovice was surprised because Father Andre had never mentioned the fire poison to him. He became worried. “Can the salamander’s fire poison be cured?”

“The priest never said,” Sister Hiran shook her head.

Back at the church, Olovice went to the basement and worked harder on drawing basic spiritual rune magic circles, practicing shaping techniques. He wanted to turn shaping into an offensive skill, like fine needles or a sharp dagger, which required precise control and use of his spiritual energy.

“Light Shaping, Moonlight!”

In the completely enclosed spiritual room, Olovice chanted the spell in the language of Krumbis. Moonlight was the name he gave his weapon. He divided the spiritual energy in the magic circle into small blocks, refining them into pen shapes, then making them smaller, thinner, and sharper. The light beams, sharp as needles, filled the entire spiritual rune magic circle, resembling countless moonbeams under the holy light.

Time passed, and Olovice’s forehead was covered in cold sweat. He felt his nerves stretched tight, his head aching, veins bulging on his forehead, his blue eyes fixed on the trembling tiny moonbeams in the magic circle.

His holy spirit was running out…

Eventually, the moonbeams in the magic circle scattered into the air.

Olovice panted heavily, his two strands of golden hair sticking to his cheeks. He took a deep breath, feeling a bit discouraged.

“Still not working.”

After meditating to recover his strength, Olovice left the basement. It was already dark outside. Returning to his room on the second floor, he found the dinner Sister Hiran had left for him on the table.

After eating, Olovice made a cup of sunflower tea for Father Andre, only to find him missing.

As he wondered, a twilight fairy flew in through the window. It was Springwater.

Springwater, riding a small red-tailed bird, hopped around and shouted, “Olovice, something’s wrong! The priest encountered a salamander in the dense forest. You must go to Montpelier and inform the archbishop!”

Olovice was stunned for a moment. Once he understood, he quickly went downstairs and found Brother Martin, instructing him to borrow a unicorn from the mayor’s house to go to Montpelier overnight. He also told the mayor to have Mr. Thomas arrange for security defenses.

The twilight fairy followed Olovice, urging, “Olovice, you should go. You’re young and fast.”

“On horseback, everyone’s speed is the same,” Olovice replied calmly, also asking Sister Hiran to guard the church.

He then ran like the wind.

“Olovice, where are you going?” the twilight fairy chased after him…

Without looking back, Olovice said, “To the dense forest to help the priest.”

Soon, he left the twilight fairy behind.

He ran swiftly, his shirt billowing like a sharp sword.

Not long after entering the dense forest, Olovice heard a gunshot! The familiar yet unfamiliar sound made his scalp tingle, his heart pounding in his chest. He sprinted towards the sound, arriving at a small lake deep in the forest.

In the lake lay a huge fiery red lizard, its blood staining the water. Father Andre, covered in wounds and exhausted, leaned against a large tree. His black robe was faintly stained with blood. He barely stood, blowing on the smoking brass revolver, speaking calmly, “Fool, times have changed.”

Olovice, hands on his knees, panted heavily to calm his erratic breathing. Watching the scene, he was momentarily stunned, then smiled.

“Olovice, why are you here? Didn’t I tell you to inform the Montpelier church? That way, you could make an impression on Bishop Ulrich,” Father Andre said, putting the revolver back in the Bible, puzzled by his disheveled student.

“Teacher, I was worried about you,” Olovice wiped the sweat from his forehead, supporting his injured teacher.

His expression was full of fear and concern, making Father Andre, who intended to scold him, soften his tone. “I’m your teacher, you’re the student. I should be the one protecting you. Is the town okay? Did you notify Montpelier?”

“Brother Martin has already gone,” Olovice replied. “You were in danger, so I had to come help you.”

Father Andre patted the Bible.

“Now, the danger is over.”

Olovice gave his teacher a thumbs up.

Who would have thought the teacher’s Bible hid a gun? It was simply too cool!