Kukulitan, now regaining his composure, pointed out a practical problem to Ketal. “We’re talking about the elven sacred ground. Even if you offer your help, I doubt the elves will accept it. The sacred ground’s location is hidden, and they forbid outsiders from entering.” Indeed, the sacred ground’s whereabouts were kept secret. Kukulitan himself did not know its exact location. Even if Ketal wished to help, it was unlikely the elves would let a human, or any outsider, inside. However, Ketal seemed unconcerned. “You don’t have to worry about that.” He rummaged through his dimensional pouch for a moment and produced a crimson gemstone. “W-what?!” Kukulitan stared, recognizing the gem at once. That red jewel was a rare invitation—one of the few tokens that granted access to the elven sacred ground. Usually, only the queen of a tribe would possess such a treasure, and even then, it was given only to lifesaving benefactors or trusted friends. Also, Ketal claimed he had received a personal invitation from a High Elf. Kukulitan’s eyes could not grow any wider with surprise. “A High Elf... You mean, you met her? I did hear that one of them had come out into the world, but...” “She invited me herself,” Ketal confirmed. “W-what is your relationship?” Kukulitan stammered. “She’s my teacher. We’re bound by the relationship of master and disciple.” “Oh. I see...” Kukulitan decided to stop trying to process it all. Ketal had a crimson gem and a direct invitation from a High Elf who had ventured beyond her homeland. There was no longer any reason—or justification—to try and stop him. The merfolk began making preparations to see Ketal off. Two days later, with all preparations complete, Ketal left the city. Kukulitan and several merfolk came out to bid him farewell. “Thank you for everything, Ketal. Without your help, we would surely have perished here.” “I enjoyed my time here, so that’s enough for me,” Ketal replied with a gentle smile. Before he left, Kukulitan pressed a ring into Ketal’s hand. It was a finely crafted band engraved with the image of a merfolk. “This is a token of gratitude, given to our benefactors. If you ever meet other merfolk or visit another merfolk city, show them this ring. You’ll be welcomed as one of us.” ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ novel·fiɾe·net “Thank you,” Ketal said, grinning. With a final wave, Ketal departed from the city. Despite some troublesome events, his stay had been enjoyable. Now, a new journey was about to begin. Ketal cut through the sea, leaving a swirling wake behind him as he traveled toward his next adventure. Around the same time Ketal set out for the elven sacred ground, a group of devotees arrived at their own destination. “Is this the place?” asked the leader. “Yes, Priestess Riltara. This is Kalosia’s holy land,” replied one of the followers. Her black hair fluttered as she turned her gaze toward their destination. Her eyes were the color of blood—crimson and intense. This was Riltara, a priestess serving the god Ferderica. She had come to Kalosia’s holy land, following the command of her deity to pursue Ketal. Though she had been driven away from Barbosa without much information, she had managed to discover that Ketal was headed to Kalosia’s holy land. “So this is where the Cradle of Darkness laid siege, and where the demons descended,” she remarked. Kalosia’s holy land was one of the most talked-about places on the continent at the moment. It was here that the Cradle of Darkness had revealed themselves and Lubitra had descended. Even more remarkable was the fact that Kalosia’s followers had repelled the invasion without any outside help. The name of Kalosia was spreading quickly across the land. As Riltara surveyed the holy land, she was taken aback. “It’s in much better shape than I expected.” She had assumed that, despite repelling the demonic incursion, the holy land would be left in ruins, battered and wounded by the battle. But instead, the place looked perfectly intact. There were no ruined buildings. The sanctuary’s protective barrier remained strong and unbroken. The scene defied her expectations. “A barbarian came here?” she murmured in disbelief. Barbarians were known for their hatred of those who served the gods. A holy knight standing behind her spoke up. “Priestess Riltara, what do you intend to do?” Riltara was accompanied by five holy knights as she tracked Ketal’s movements. She answered calmly, “First, let’s go in and gather information. If possible, I’d like to speak with the Saintess. Let’s proceed.” The knights nodded and accompanied her toward the sanctuary. When they reached the entrance, they introduced themselves to the sentries on guard. “We are priests of Ferderica. May we enter the holy land of Kalosia?” “P-priests of Ferderica?” The guards were caught off guard. The Ferderica faith’s main strongholds were far from here, and there had been little contact between the two churches. They hadn’t expected such a visit. Priests of one god were not always welcomed in another’s holy land. If the faiths were in conflict or had opposing doctrines, visitors could even be turned away outright. However, to their surprise, the Kalosia faithful greeted them warmly. “Please, come in! You are most welcome!” The reason was simple. Kalosia’s church had long been marginalized and shunned across the continent. The same was true for Ferderica’s followers. While their faiths had no special connection, they shared the experience of being outcasts. Thanks to this sense of kinship, Riltara and her entourage were able to enter the holy land without difficulty. That night, Riltara was granted an audience with Kalosia’s Saintess, Shadranes. “Welcome. My name is Shadranes, and though unworthy, I serve as the Saintess of Kalosia. Please, feel at home here in our sanctuary,” Shadranes greeted her with a gentle smile—a beauty so radiant it seemed almost painted. Riltara was quietly awed. So this is one of the two treasures of Kalosia’s faith. One was Rakuza, the Transcendent holy knight, and the other was Shadranes, the Saintess—famed across the land for her saintly devotion, wisdom, and grace. She was a model for all who aspired to sainthood, known for carrying out her god’s will to perfection. As she admired Shadranes’s poise, Riltara had no idea that the Saintess was inwardly flustered. Why are they here? Shadranes thought. The Ferderica church’s main seat was far from here, and they had never had any close relations. She couldn’t imagine what had brought them all this way. Still, she kept her anxiety hidden behind a perfect mask, greeting Riltara with flawless composure. Riltara bowed respectfully. “It is an honor to meet you. I am Riltara, a humble servant of Ferderica. My role is to judge heresy in her name.” “I have heard much of you, Riltara,” Shadranes replied. “They say you have shown extraordinary devotion and talent from a young age. Meeting you is a great joy.” Riltara smiled, genuinely pleased by the praise. The air between them warmed with mutual respect. After a moment, Shadranes steered the conversation toward business. “Is your visit related to the Cradle of Darkness? Are you here for information about the attack?” The Cradle of Darkness’s assault on Kalosia’s holy land had brought attention from churches and kingdoms all over the continent, seeking information about the event. Shadranes assumed that was the purpose of Riltara’s visit. However, Riltara shook her head. “I would certainly be grateful if you shared what you know, but that is not my main reason for coming.” “Another reason?” Shadranes asked her, tilting her head. Even her gesture of curiosity was picture-perfect. Riltara spoke, her tone growing more serious. “I heard a barbarian visited your holy land.” Shadranes froze for a moment as Riltara pressed on. “I need information about him.” “The barbarian—you mean Ketal?” Shadranes asked her. “I believe that is the name he uses. Did he come here?” “Yes, he did. But news of his visit has not reached the outside world yet.” “We have our ways,” Riltara replied, her eyes narrowing. “Is he still here? If not, where did he go?” Shadranes fell silent, weighing her next words. After a long pause, she asked her, “May I ask why?” “Our god, Ferderica, has given us a revelation. They have commanded me to capture the barbarian and bring him before them.” “What?” Shadranes’s eyes widened in shock. “Ferderica issued a revelation—directly?” “Yes. I am simply following their command. Saintess Shadranes, I’m sure you understand. Where is Ketal?” Riltara’s voice was steady, yet it carried the weight of divine command. For a while, Shadranes said nothing. Then, in a quiet voice, she answered, “So you are hostile toward Ketal.” “My god ordered that I capture him.” “I see. That is why you want this information.” “Please. I ask this as a courtesy.” “I do know where Ketal went and what his purpose is,” Shadranes said with a slight, enigmatic smile. Shadranes’s smile turned gentle—but her answer was sharp. “No.” “Thank y—excuse me?” Riltara, expecting cooperation, was stunned. “No. I am a follower of Kalosia. I have no obligation to share such information just because you ask for it.” Normally, Shadranes would have kept her emotions masked. She was the Saintess of lies and deception—a mistress of the perfect facade. She could have met Riltara’s request with gentle evasion and subtle deflection. However, this time, she did not care to hide her feelings. Pure, open hostility colored her tone. “I... I understand, but...” Riltara tried to respond, but Shadranes was unyielding. Her reasoning was perfectly sound. She owed nothing to a rival faith, even if the request came in the name of a god’s revelation. However, Riltara had not expected to be turned away. He’s just a barbarian, she thought. Why go to such lengths to hide his whereabouts? “Could you at least tell me why?” Riltara pleaded. “I do not think I owe you even that. I’m sorry, but I have many duties. I can’t spare any more time for this.” It was a clear dismissal—a drastic shift from Shadranes’s earlier warmth. Riltara withdrew in confusion. Once outside, she regrouped with her knights. Their faces mirrored her own bewilderment. “There’s something strange going on,” Riltara replied. The knights had tried to gather information as well, moving around the holy land. At first, the Kalosia faithful were welcoming, drawn by the shared experience of rejection by the larger world. However, the moment the knights mentioned they were looking for Ketal, the atmosphere changed. The Kalosia worshipers stopped speaking, their expressions cold and wary. “You too?” Riltara asked one of the knights. “Yes. Did you have the same experience?” “I did. I asked Saintess Shadranes about the barbarian, but she refused to say anything.” Their voices trailed off as they noticed hostile stares from the Kalosia faithful. The once-friendly faces now glared at them with open animosity, as if resenting anyone who sought to hunt Ketal. “What’s going on...?” “We should go. It doesn’t seem like we’ll get any information here.” Amid the pointed, threatening stares, they hurried out of the holy land. Once they had put some distance behind them, Riltara glanced back, heart pounding. The worshipers had followed them to the edge of the holy land, still glaring, eyes full of warning. “What in the world is going on here...?” she murmured, unable to understand the sudden shift. Driven out by cold, murderous eyes, Riltara and her knights left the holy land, feeling as if they had become fugitives themselves.