“Eh, want an umbrella?”

“Nah, a little rain won’t hurt.”

The prophet’s damp hair fell forward, a strand sticking to his forehead. But he didn’t care. Ever since receiving the Archbishop’s summons and riding south with the Rat Knight, Orek’s heart had been heavy with unease.

Past Awakening City, the weather warmed, ice and snow melted, and endless rain took their place. Let the rain wash away my sins. The sound of hooves made his pulse quicken with every step, knowing he would soon face the Archbishop.

Since losing his Holy Light powers, Orek had imagined this meeting countless times. Now it was finally here. Holy Light Village lay just ahead, and his anxiety grew more intense by the second. Should I confess?

He could guess why he’d lost his powers, but when he’d been Grand Commander of the Great Wall, the mask of authority had blinded him to self-reflection. These past days, stripped of his rank and back to being a Crystal Temple acolyte, he’d thought calmly and arrived at the most likely cause: He who turns his back on the gods cannot be saved by them.

If that was the truth, he had no idea how to explain it to the Archbishop. How will he punish me? Will he lock me up?

“Holy Light Village is just up ahead, eh?” The Rat Knight pointed forward, breaking Orek’s reverie.

“Oh!” Orek looked up. Through the rain-shrouded white-leaf forest, he spotted dozens of gray-yellow farmhouses. In that instant, a face flashed through his mind: Peter…

Orek and Peter had been childhood friends, growing up together in the capital’s slums. At eight, Orek had been discovered by the Crystal Temple Archbishop, who recognized his innate talent and took him to the temple. Around the same time, Peter was sent to the Arcane Academy to study mysticism.

Ten years later, Orek debuted as a Prophet, traveling the kingdom to slay demons and earn glory. When he visited Holy Light Village, he’d met Peter, now a Magician. The brothers recognized each other instantly, laughed, and talked all night. Together, they’d eliminated four werewolves perfectly in the village.

After that, they went their separate ways but met several times a year. Two years ago, Orek was appointed Grand Commander of the Great Wall—and Peter was transferred there too. When they reunited, both were Holy Light Grand Magicians.

For two years at the wall, they’d worked closely together to achieve one of the human legion’s greatest victories: the fall of Wolf Fort. It all felt like yesterday…

Memories flashed through Orek’s mind like flickering shadows. “Peter, do you think I should confess to the Archbishop?” he whispered.

“Sir, what d’you mean?” the Rat Knight asked.

Orek snapped back to reality. He realized the person beside him wasn’t Peter. He’s gone… A sharp pain pierced his heart, but his face remained calm.

“I was thinking about the murders.” Orek didn’t consider this a lie. He had been thinking about how to explain Peter’s, Shao’s, and Camon’s deaths to the Archbishop—though he’d been planning to lie his way through it.

“We’re all to blame for not finding the hidden werewolf, sir. If the Archbishop questions you, don’t take all the responsibility yourself, eh?”

Orek sighed. The Rat Knight was a good man, but he didn’t understand. Does catching the killer even matter? What matters is that I’ve lost the Holy Light…

“The Archbishop should be waiting in Holy Light Forest by now,” the Rat Knight said. “The Temple Knights said he wants only you to enter.”

“Alright. Wait here for me.” Orek sighed, urging his horse forward. If only Peter were here now—he’d know how to help me fix this.

The rain fell soft and gentle, kissing his face like a mother’s caress. Orek took several deep breaths, trying to steady his racing heart. The air smelled of rain and pine. Not far away, the white-leaf forest surrounded the quiet village, gray walls and yellow tiles blending with brown wood and white foliage. To the west of the farmhouses, he spotted four white-armored Temple Knights and their banners. Crystal Temple Knights…

Orek dismounted and walked toward them. “The Archbishop has been waiting for you in the forest,” one knight said, stepping forward. Orek nodded, handing his reins to the knight.

He entered Holy Light Forest. The white leaves swayed in the drizzle, glowing softly like countless tiny silver shards dancing. Sunlight filtered through the trees, weaving with the silver foliage into a shifting tapestry of light—so beautiful it took his breath away.

A familiar warmth washed over him. He’d sat under the Holy Light Trees in the temple countless times, meditating in their glow, his devotion to the gods tested over long years. Holy Light Forest is where the divine power comes from…

He remembered a time when he was an apprentice prophet, hunting werewolves in the woods outside the capital. He’d been young and inexperienced; though he’d killed the werewolf, he’d been gravely injured. Near death, he’d stumbled upon a Holy Light Tree. Lying beneath it, he’d soaked in its faint glow, clinging to life for three days and nights until the Crystal Temple rescue team found him.

“In Holy Light Forest, you can feel the gods’ power. They watch you with their divine eyes…” The Archbishop’s old words echoed in his ears.

How long has it been since I prayed under a Holy Light Tree? The prophet suddenly realized he’d made a grave mistake. In the two years since becoming Grand Commander, he’d never taken the time to cleanse his soul under a Holy Light Tree. They were rare in the north, but not nonexistent—there was an ancient one in the snow forest just ten miles from Shield Fort. But he’d never gone to pray there.

Is this the gods’ punishment? Orek broke out in a cold sweat. He who turns his back on the gods cannot be saved by them. That’s what the Archbishop had told him at ten, when he’d skipped his first group prayer under the Holy Light Tree.

I haven’t lost my faith! I was just too busy with the Great Wall’s affairs to pray! He screamed inwardly. But even he knew the excuse was weak, impossible to defend.

Beads of water—rain or sweat, he couldn’t tell—trickled down his forehead, soaking his black robe. An indescribable fear flooded his body, making every step feel like a struggle. Each one drained his strength. I don’t want to go any further… He was terrified of facing the Archbishop, terrified of what lay ahead.

“You’re here.”

A deep, resonant voice cut through the forest.

“Oh!”

Time seemed to stand still. Through the mist, Orek saw the figure that had given him endless warmth, yet filled him with awe. The Archbishop!