On a quiet night, a crescent moon hung high in the sky, its pale light slanting through the window, while the room inside blazed with warm light.
By the glow of a gleaming crystal lantern, Barrett carefully inventoried the items spread across the floor and bed:
"Gorgon-hide climbing boots, velvet sleeping bag, iron shovel, stomach tonic, water-condensing cup, enchanted goggles, sand-treader boots…"
"Alright, we've got nearly everything for the desert trip," Barrett said, rubbing his palms together as he handed supplies to EeDechi and Franco. "Once we leave Slane Theocracy, we'll likely only run into small villages or barbarian tribes."
The three adventurers stepped out of the house, where a double-horse carriage waited, hitched to a trailer loaded with empty wooden crates. Barrett and EeDechi planned to pose as traveling merchants, slipping out of Slane Theocracy under cover of night.
No one knew how many spies from the Sorcerer Kingdom lurked in Slane Theocracy, or how many followers of the Six Great Gods had switched their allegiance. After EeDechi had deliberately revealed her presence in the Theocracy, staying was no longer an option.
"Let's move! Stay sharp."
EeDechi, cradling Cheeko, climbed into the carriage's compartment, with Franco close behind. Barrett took the reins—no choice, really, since he was the only one in the group who could drive a carriage.
The carriage's hooves clattered against the cobblestone road, weaving through the heart of Slane Theocracy's capital. EeDechi poked her head out of the carriage window, gazing at the city under the cool moonlight.
The capital's nightlife buzzed with energy—pedestrians milled about, and vendors hawked glowing light sticks along the streets. Barrett hadn't chosen to travel in the dead of night; a lone carriage rattling through empty roads would've raised too many eyebrows. So, they'd set out around seven in the evening, blending into the evening's hum.
In the city's center, towering statues of the Six Great Gods loomed, their stone faces cold and profound in the moonlight. The colossal figures stood silent, watching over the nation they'd founded six hundred years ago, their stern expressions frozen in time.
At the massive base of the statues, dozens of fresh flowers lay scattered—different types, vibrant colors, petals trembling in the night breeze. These bouquets were offerings from Slane Theocracy's people and devotees, placed there to honor their faith and longing for the Six Great Gods.
A pang of sadness hit EeDechi out of nowhere. The people of Slane Theocracy still believed the Six Great Gods protected them, that their divine power still worked wonders from beyond. They didn't know those gods had long vanished from the world.
They'd built idols of clay in their minds, worshipping a fantasy. Could the Six Great Gods, now just a memory, still shield this crumbling nation? EeDechi didn't know. Maybe the Six Scriptures held the answer.
"Hold on." EeDechi halted the carriage. "I just had a sudden urge to start an educational venture. Let's turn back."
…
In the brilliantly lit corridor, Holy Son Connor Daller glided across the marble floor, barefoot, clad in a pristine white woolen robe. Fresh from a fragrant bath attended by maids, he was heading to the inner sanctum's chapel for evening prayers.
Born into a wealthy family of devout believers, Connor had displayed astonishing magical talent from a young age, marked as bearing the ancestral blood of divine beings. His religious insight was equally profound.
Swiftly declared the Holy Son by the Pope, he earned praise from high-ranking ministers and cardinals alike. With the half-elf Antilene unable to appear in public, he was the Slane Theocracy's most gifted soul, cherished like a rare gem.
The only thing that pissed him off was the sudden arrival of some bullshit "Divine Envoy," stealing half his spotlight.
"That damned Divine Envoy, I'll find a way to make you regret it!" Connor muttered to himself, his small feet slapping the marble floor.
The corridor was cleaned four times daily by servants, so shoes were unnecessary. Connor relished the cool sensation of the marble against his soles.
On one side, crystal-clear floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of the starry night sky and a golden crescent moon half-hidden by clouds. Outside, broad-leaved plants swayed in the night breeze, their shadows dancing faintly.
CRASH! The floor-to-ceiling window shattered, glass spraying everywhere as a figure burst into the corridor.
Connor froze, looking up to see none other than his least favorite person—the Divine Envoy.
"Divine Envoy? What the hell are you doing here? This isn't your place!" Connor snapped, his childish voice carrying zero weight.
EeDechi rolled her shoulders, flexing her hands, muttering to herself, "Easy does it… easy does it… easy does it…"
"The so-called Divine Envoy, huh? No class at all. First you trespass in forbidden halls, and now…" Connor sneered, tilting his nose up at EeDechi with a haughty glare.
EeDechi grabbed the back of his robe, hoisting him like a squawking chick, then plopped down cross-legged and pinned him across her knee. She raised her hand.
SMACK! A crisp slap echoed across Connor's backside.
"Ow!" Connor yelped, his eyes squeezing out sparkling tears, arms and legs flailing like he was swimming. He roared, "What the hell did you do? Who gave you the guts to spank my ass?!"
"You're the Holy Son," EeDechi said, landing another firm slap on his tender rear. "You're supposed to be humble, strong. You have no idea the weight of responsibility on your shoulders or the terrifying enemies you'll face."
She smacked again. "Do you know how many lives depend on you? They're all counting on you, but you're clueless about the danger. Slane Theocracy has spoiled you rotten, and I'm here to set you straight."
A second figure darted through the shattered window—Franco, with a sneaky, rat-like grin. He sidled up to EeDechi and landed a sharp slap on Connor's backside, leaving a clear handprint.
Holy Son Connor wailed, "You bastards are spanking me? My dad never even hit me!"
EeDechi slapped Connor's tender backside with a sharp smack. "Do you even realize how many lives depend on you to protect them? They're all counting on you, but you don't have a shred of urgency. The Slane Theocracy has spoiled you rotten, and I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson."
A second figure darted through the shattered stained-glass window—Franco, with his shifty, weasel-like grin. He sidled up to EeDechi and landed another hard slap on Connor's backside, leaving a clear handprint.
Holy Son Connor let out a wail. "You guys are actually spanking me! Even my dad never hit me!"
"You two are such a damn circus," Barrett said, poking his head through the broken window. He watched the scene unfold, shaking his head at his companions' antics.
"Time to bounce." Franco slipped back through the window's hole. EeDechi opened her mouth to drop some more wisdom, but Connor was already sobbing, tears gushing like a broken dam.
Barrett waved frantically at EeDechi, and she bolted after him.
The three of them trampled through the landscaped garden outside, moving like a trio of thieves under the silvery moonlight. They sprinted to the double-horse carriage parked by a streetlamp. Barrett cracked the whip, and the carriage sped off once more.
…
The night curfew hadn't started yet, and the carriage rolled through the city streets, heading toward the outskirts.
Hooves clacked rhythmically on the cobblestones as the roadside lanterns grew sparse. Candlelit homes faded into the distance, and a chilly night breeze swept over them.
On the dark road ahead, two shadowy figures stood tall and thin, while a third, hunched over a cane, leaned nearby.
The figures blocked the road, forcing Barrett to yank the reins, halting the horses just shy of crashing into the black-clad strangers. The lead horse's breath snorted right in one figure's face.
"Got business?" EeDechi, Barrett, and Franco hopped off the carriage, greeting the shadowy figures. From their outlines, they already had a good guess who these people were.
"Divine Envoy, slipping out without a word? We couldn't let you leave without a proper send-off," Alphonse said with a chuckle. The biting night wind blew, but the lantern hanging on the carriage cast a warm, golden glow, lighting up his sharp, gleaming eyes.