Before the Relief Institute, a crowd several times larger than usual was gathered. They stood in line for grain porridge, its comforting aroma filling the warm spring air.

Despite the large crowd, the porridge was ladled out in an orderly fashion. It was to be expected—the Holy Knights of the Order Church were, of course, adept at maintaining order. The Great Swords and flails they always carried would punish anyone who broke it.

At dusk, to placate the people, the Priest began a new address:

"The Lord says: Darkness and chaos go hand-in-hand, breeding sin and suffering. Only Light can guide our path so we do not stray, and only order can protect us from harming one another. To believe in this is to believe in God.

Unfortunately, some have betrayed their faith in a moment of trial, succumbing to their suffering only to inflict it upon others. Such people, who turn to demons and evil spirits, who serve darkness and chaos, are no longer our brothers and sisters.

Remember this: for those who walk the path of sacrilege, the touch of the holy light is no longer a blessing, but a judgment!"

A "plaza" in the East Suburb—in truth, just an empty plot of land—had a well at its center, which served as the water source for the local residents. The lot had now been commandeered. An open-air pulpit was erected, and from it, the Priest preached to the crowd.

The Holy Chanter glanced around. The people who had received their grain porridge stood listening to his speech, bowls in hand. The faces of his audience, his flock, were apathetic—each one streaked with dirt and grime. Cleanliness was a luxury here.

The preacher took a deep breath. "We stand now beside this very well. When our Lord walked the world in mortal form, He journeyed through barren, sandy lands where water was scarce. With His divine power, He created a clear spring for a village that believed in Him, and He established an order for drawing its water.

"The people of a neighboring village, who followed a different faith, prayed to their divine spirit for a spring as well. Yet, the people of that village fought amongst themselves to claim the water, former brothers and sisters wounding and killing each other. But those willing to follow our Lord’s order have always received His grace. In their village, everyone had water to drink, and they lived and worked in peace.

"Remember this well: do not be blinded by the temptations of evil spirits and fall into depravity. All that is gained through treachery and the breaking of order, God will see it taken away. And for all sacrifices made in the name of Light and order, God shall grant the highest glory and blessings!

"The covenant our Lord made with us is not elsewhere, but here! It is not for another day, but for this very moment..."

The sermon concluded. Some of the women and the elderly began to pray, and a few artisans nodded in agreement. Most of the crowd, however, remained numb. They had finished eating as the sermon ended and were now wondering if they could ask for a second bowl.

"All that nonsense. You think anyone here understands a word of it? Would’ve been better to just give out more porridge." At the back of the crowd, two men started talking. They wore wide, flat felt hats that partially hid their faces.

Their attire wasn’t out of place. Workers with a little extra money would wear such hats for warmth. Those who worked with lead, mercury, or leather were especially prone to headaches, and they seemed to believe a hat could keep the cold wind from aggravating the mysterious affliction.

"You should listen carefully. You never know when it might be useful," the other man said. He had been about to pull out some powder to sniff, but seeing the Church members nearby, he restrained himself. He continued, "Even if this speech is wasted on the dregs here, the perfumed ladies and pomaded lords eat this stuff right up."

"Enough talk. We’ve finished eating. Let’s go." Remnants of the Mother Earth Sect were indeed still active in the area. Faced with the Holy Knights’ blockade, they were not entirely without a countermeasure.

As the saying goes, the most dangerous place is the safest. These sewer-rat-like figures had found a tunnel in the East Suburb that connected to the Underground Tomb beneath Sacred Heart Cathedral!

The scale of Valuva’s largest Underground Tomb was beyond imagination, extending all the way to the edge of the suburbs. This vast subterranean network could be exploited. By traversing the deeper levels of the tomb, places rarely visited by ordinary people, the members of the Mother Earth Sect could silently escape the encirclement.

The Holy Knights’ blockade was limited, after all. Especially underground, where the tomb passages crisscrossed and overlapped on multiple levels. There were always gaps for these rats to slip through.

"I’m going to the shack to get Salamanda."

"Why bring him? That wretch isn’t even sincere in his service to our Lord."

"It’s the Elder’s orders. Besides, I have some things stored at his place. I’ll move them to the ’Nest’ at the same time." ’The Nest’ was their name for the tomb complex, which they apparently intended to turn into a base of operations.

Having finished their discussion amidst the restless crowd, the two junior leaders of the Sect sprang into action, carefully weaving their way through the throng.

What they failed to notice was that their every move was being observed by a Gray Robe Knight.

"Split up and follow them."

One of the Sect members wove through a maze of haphazardly built shanties. He knew the way perfectly, navigating the oddly shaped intersections without hesitation, turning left and right until he arrived at his destination.

The shack’s rotten wooden door was pushed open, and dusk entered Salamanda’s domain along with the mysterious man.

"Why are you here so soon?" Salamanda was still lying on his cot. He shot upright and asked nervously, "Did something happen?" With so many Priests and Holy Knights around... As the drug’s effects faded, he was finally regaining some clarity. Not too much clarity, though—otherwise, how could he still have been lying there so complacently?

"Cut the crap. Don’t ask questions. Grab a chest and come with me." The mysterious man pulled two chests out from under the filthy cot.

Salamanda was unwilling. "But then my hands and feet will be exposed. And where are we going?"

"I told you not to ask. The servants of the false god are busy handing out porridge right now. No one’s paying attention to a dead dog like you."

"Porridge?" At the mention of this, Salamanda’s stomach started to rumble. "I’m hungry too! Get me something to eat! Or at least give me the powder first, I feel awful..."

The junior Sect leader began to hesitate about bringing this dead weight along. ’He’s a miner from a Sub-plane, someone the Elder specifically told us to look after. But even with his new hands and feet, he’s still a useless wreck. If I just... took care of him... in this emergency, the Elder probably wouldn’t even investigate...’

BANG! The shack practically flew apart as four gray-robed figures burst in, instantly pinning both men to the ground. Four large men couldn’t possibly have entered through the single doorway at the same time—they had smashed through the shack’s flimsy walls. The mysterious man tried to struggle, but a cloth soaked in an anesthetic was pressed over his face.

’Damn it, isn’t that one of our Sect’s own Charming Headscarves?’ he thought. He tried to curse, but immediately fell unconscious.

Three Holy Knights arrived as backup. One stepped forward, examined the unconscious Cultist, and asked, "How long will the effect last?"

"No idea. We just saw it was a useful tool and decided to use it," the Gray Robe Knight said, shaking his head at his colleague. He reached out to stop a rookie from opening the chests. "Move everything to the Church. We have countless ways to make this scum wake up and talk. And don’t mess with the chests. What if they’re trapped or filled with poison gas?"

...

The Church’s operation was in full swing, but that didn’t prevent some of its members from slipping out. Out in the suburbs—not the slums of the East Suburb, but a manor with sprawling lawns and woods—a portly Brother felt greatly honored to have been called to the residence of Duke Melovinca, even if it was only one of the Duke’s secondary villas.

"Ah, a full-bodied berry flavor with woody aromas... Time and proper cellaring have given it a sublime taste. Your Grace, you have impeccable taste." The dark red wine clung to the walls of the glass. The Brother moved to clink glasses with the Duke, but when the Duke made no motion, he let it go.

"Brother Bernado, I believe my steward has already spoken with you..."

"It is Benadan, Your Grace," the portly Brother said, rising from his seat. He began to display the goods from his suitcase. One case held glass vials of oil fixed in small compartments, while the other contained blades and arrowheads wrapped in silk. A holy radiance bloomed from each as they were opened:

"Ten vials of Blessed Anointing Oil, six Blades of Evil-Breaking, and thirty-two Arrows of Judgment. You can decide whether to mount them on short or long hafts yourself. Frankly, you could have ordered a larger quantity. We always have plenty left over, enough to equip your entire..."

The Duke cut short the Brother’s ramblings. "This is Valuva. I only intend to equip my personal Bodyguards."

"Yes, yes, of course." The price had long been settled. At a nod from the Duke, a steward brought forth a prepared chest. The Brother opened it and clicked his tongue in admiration. "It’s been a long time since I’ve beheld such a sight. Paper money truly lacks this charm... Ah, the gleam of gold is second only to the holy light itself!"

The Brother had to attend evening prayers and departed in a hurry. Once he was gone, the Duke could finally let his true guests reveal themselves.

Kano and Rorschach emerged from the drawing room and entered the dining hall, where the tableware and food had been completely replaced. "Thank you for your assistance, Your Grace," Kano said. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

"This is hardly the first time I’ve conducted this sort of small business," Melovinca said with a smile, raising his glass to the Great Mage and his student. "I am still relying on you both for my son’s tutelage."

After some discussion about the Tower of Stars, the Duke suddenly turned to Rorschach. "Rorschach Mage, how many shares of the Shaleanna Mining Company do you still hold? Are you interested in cashing out?"