Archdeacon Emmett shuffled through the sheets of paper on his desk, before leaning back into his chair with a worried sigh. He sat alone in his office as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. There were magical runes etched into the ceiling of the room that cast a cool breeze over him. However, his perspiration did not come from overexerting himself with work.

  Despite his older age, he was often quite capable of handling both manual labor and the officework that was required of him on a day-to-day basis. After all, one didn’t become an archdeacon from being a low-leveled worker.

  Emmett was a Level 45 Platinum Rank [High Priest]. And with the levels and experience that came with being such a high Rank, followed a relatively high [Vitality] compared to the average person too. Because of that, he wouldn’t falter to the point of perspiration if all he had to do was simple paperwork.

  Even still, his old age had to catch up with him somehow. And it manifested through stress.

  The archdeacon picked up a piece of parchment that only had a short sentence transcribed onto it— it was a letter that came from a small city to the northeast of the Sanctus Empire. And on it, a simple question was asked.

  Have they arrived yet?

  It was a vague question that didn’t specify who had yet to arrive, however that was the point. It was a question that only Emmett was meant to know the context of, since he had previously discussed the subject matter with the sender of the message.

  After all, this letter had been sent through a [Magical Scribe], and while they allowed for instant communication across large distances, they were also privy to the details of the messages being sent too. And while most of them were trustworthy enough to keep the contents of what was being discussed a secret, there were some who still sold the information for enough gold.

  So whenever Archdeacon Emmett was discussing any matters of true confidentiality, he would opt to send written letters delivered by [Couriers]. Thanks to the magical wax sealing the envelopes, it was practically guaranteed to protect the contents of the letter from being seen by the wrong eyes, since if it was opened incorrectly, the letter itself would be burned up and destroyed.

  And that was how he had been communicating before with the sender of this recent missive— his former student, Reverend Donovan of Velmond— beforehand.

  When Archdeacon Emmett had received that letter, he had been simply delighted to hear from an old friend. But when he read the contents of what it said, he had been shocked— in sheer disbelief at what he heard.

  A young [Healer], no older than thirteen years of age, had managed to cure the Blight?

  It was a deadly disease that had stumped even the greatest [Healers] of the Sanctus Empire. How was a mere child able to commit such an incomprehensible feat? That was not to mention the fact that he had such a rare Class at his age…

  There could only be a single explanation— a conclusion that could only be made if one had known about a detail that was kept secret from the public.

  That Aria the Lady of Light was no longer a [Hero].

  Reverend Donovan had postulated the idea that this child could be the [Hero] to Archdeacon Emmett. And while the [High Priest] trusted the words of his former student, it was almost impossible to believe unless he saw it all with his own eyes.

  That was why he had asked for this boy to be sent here— to the Church of Life— so that he could confirm it all with his very own eyes. Unfortunately…

  Emmett pursed his lips as he read the letter once again.

  It had been nearly a month since the boy had set off for Lux from Velmond accompanied by Sister Frida. The journey had been estimated to take three weeks at the longest, but for some reason, the boy had yet to arrive.

  Did something happen? Was their trip merely delayed? Or could there have been an even more… tragic turn of events that prevented the boy’s arrival?

  Archdeacon Emmett didn’t know. But time was running short, and it seemed like the boy wasn’t going to arrive in time. So the [High Priest] could only sigh as he began to write a response letter to his former student.

  It appears that he will not make it for— But right as Emmett was about to finish writing the letter to be sent to the [Magical Scribe], he heard a knocking on the door.

  Blinking, Archdeacon Emmett looked up curiously. He hadn’t been expecting any guests to arrive, except for… but it couldn’t have been, right?

  “Come in,” the [High Priest] called out.

  And the door slowly creaked open. A familiar-looking [Nun] held the door open, bowing her head deeply. Archdeacon Emmett greeted her as he rose to his feet.

  “Sister Frida? That must mean—” His eyes went wide as he stared at the young boy stepping in after the [Nun]. “Martyrs guide us, you’re actually here.”

  It was Eli. The white-haired boy that Emmett had been expecting since a week ago. He stood there, his brown eyes scanning the room, before his gaze landed upon the [High Priest] standing behind the desk.

  The boy smiled as he strode forward, all the while Sister Frida bowed apologetically behind him.

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  “My apologies for our late arrival,” she said as she kept her head down. “However, during our journey, we were met with an array of unforeseen circumstances that delayed our arrival here.”

  The [High Priest] raised a hand placatingly. “There is no need to apologize. I am just relieved you both arrived here safe and sound. And it is a pleasure to finally meet you, [Healer] Eli of Velmond.”

  “Likewise, Archdeacon Emmett.” Eli nodded back in response. “Reverend Donovan spoke highly of you. I am in your humble care.”

  “Yes, yes,” Emmett said as he drew back, walking around the wooden desk. He strode up to the boy who just tilted his head, seeing this. “I have heard a lot about you too, [Healer] Eli. But while there is much we have to discuss, right now, we have to make haste.”

  Eli blinked. “Make haste…?”

  “Indeed. You have arrived a little bit late— or rather, fashionably right on time.” The [High Priest] explained as he stepped out of the room, all the while the boy watched. “After all, the entrance exams for the Holy Academy start in an hour.”

  And Eli’s eyes went wide when he heard that. “Wait, what?”

  ***

  After delivering Eli to Archdeacon Emmett as she had been entrusted to do, Sister Frida took her leave. The two of them had been in a rush to make it to the Training Fields of the Holy Academy for the entrance exams, but she didn’t accompany them there since her help was not needed any longer. However, she did not make an immediate return back to Velmond. Instead, she slinked off down a few side halls, before meeting with a pair of [Nuns] who had been laughing and chatting by a grand painting of the first [Hero].

  When they saw her, they greeted her with a casual smile, until they heard the word she whispered into their ears.

  “Red moon.”

  Instantly, their demeanors changed. They bowed at Sister Frida, before leading her down the gilded halls, until they came across a seemingly innocuous-looking doorway. They pushed the door open for her, and she stepped into a carpeted bedroom. The door swung shut behind her as the [Nuns] waited outside.

  And for a moment, nothing happened. Before the ground beneath the carpet began to light up with a blue light. An intricate spell circle formed at Frida’s feet as she took in a deep breath, bracing herself for what was to come.

  Then with a flash of light, the surroundings around Frida changed. Now, she found herself standing in the middle of a dark room, lit only by a single candlelight.

  The Sister of the Luna Gez Sect lurched, her head spinning as she stumbled to a knee. She had forgotten how debilitating that teleportation spell was to her senses. However, she quickly tidied up her appearance as she looked up to face a figure seated by the dim light.

  An elderly woman’s voice spoke, echoing in the dark room.

  “You have returned, Sister Frida.”

  “Reverend Mother.” Frida immediately dropped to her knees, bowing her head as she clasped her hands together like in prayer.

  The figure didn’t face the [Nun], and the wooden chair blocked out anything except for the back of their head, so all that could be seen was the silhouette of a coif. However, Frida recognized the voice of the leader of the Luna Gez Sect in an instant.

  “I come bearing news,” Frida said as she raised her head. “I believe I have found the next [Hero].”

  There was a long pause. A silence that dragged on for what felt like forever. For a moment, Frida wondered if it had been a mistake to report the news so bluntly. Perhaps she should have brought some form of proof, beyond just her judgment. A single bead of sweat formed on her neck, sliding down onto her back.

  Until, finally, the Reverend Mother of the Luna Gez Sect spoke up again.

  “...are you absolutely certain?”

  “Yes, Reverend Mother,” Frida answered instantly. “And while I cannot provide you with definite proof, all circumstantial evidence leads me to believe this is the case. For not only is he a [Healer] at such a young age, he had als proven his strength by dismantling the Gold Skulls.”

  There came a shifting from the chair. But the Reverend Mother did not rise to her feet. Instead, she just asked another interrogating question.

  “Is anyone else aware of this?”

  “I believe Reverend Donovan thinks the same as I,” Frida explained as she shook her head. “After this boy cured the Blight, he had arranged for him to be sent to be enrolled into the Holy Academy.”

  Closing her eyes, the Sister of the Luna Gez Sect lowered her head once again.

  “The boy is taking the entrance exam to enter the Holy Academy as we speak. From my conversations with him, it seems he is quite eager to enroll.”

  There was no response again. At least, for a minute. The Reverend Mother considered Frida’s words in contemplative silence.

  And then her voice resounded once again.

  “After the entrance exams are over, bring this boy to me. I will speak with him, and I will determine if he is truly the next [Hero].”

  Frida blinked as the figure rose up from the chair, revealing an elderly lady who looked to be about eighty years of age at the very least. But even as the Reverend Mother craned her neck back, her face was hidden behind a translucent white veil.

  “If so, we shall make this boy our ally, before he is discovered by Archbishop Walden. With the next [Hero] on our side, we will be able to finally overturn that monster’s influence over the Church of Life.”

  Sister Frida nodded and rose to her feet as she opened her mouth. “Yes, Reverend M—”

  And then she paused as a thought crossed her mind. She looked hesitantly towards the Reverend Mother whose unseen gaze pierced into her.

  “What plagues your mind, Sister Frida?”

  “I…” Frida pursed her lips, letting her apprehension show on her demeanor. She considered her next words carefully, before finally deciding what to say. “But what if this boy is not the next [Hero]? What do we do then?”

  And the Reverend Mother spoke apathetically in response.

  “We cannot allow the Luna Gez Sect be discovered by any outsider— without exception. You know the rules, Sister Frida. Unless… in your long tenure in Velmond, you’ve forgotten them?”

  Frida hesitated as a shiver washed over her. And she bowed her head deeply, responding as calmly as possible.

  “No, Reverend Mother. I have not.”

  “Very good,” the Reverend Mother said, before sitting back down into her chair. “Now go and fulfill your duties.”

  “Yes, Reverend Mother,” Frida replied as a spell circle flashed beneath her feet.

  And then she was back in the bedroom she had been earlier. She stood there, in a daze for a moment. But this time, it was not just because of the teleportation spell.

  Instead, she wondered if she had made the right decision— or if she had made a mistake. Eli, she thought as her mind flashed with the image of the young boy who saved her life. Please, you have to be the next [Hero].

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