’A ray or a projectile?’

The opponent’s gesture made Apprentice Paul’s hair stand on end. The young man from Jasikone indeed had excellent combat instincts. He did his utmost to adjust his posture, holding his breath and twisting his body with every muscle he could muster.

Paul predicted Rorschach’s next attack would be a projectile or a ray, so he dodged its imagined trajectory.

Unfortunately, he guessed wrong. Rorschach was a little surprised by Paul’s evasive maneuver. Even as he ducked low, the apprentice’s forward momentum for his thrust didn’t decrease. This, however, didn’t affect Rorschach’s Magic. He had no intention of running the good lad through with a Molten Beam. Instead, he planned to use his long-unseen "Qilin Arm."

Back when he was still in Andorrella, he could pull down the "Flying Man." With Rorschach’s current Casting level, the Qilin Arm combined with the Grasping Palm didn’t require his full power; he could swat Paul to the ground like a mosquito.

His misjudgment proved fatal. In his effort to maintain an aggressive posture, Paul ducked low and leaned far forward, which led to him smoothly planting his face in the dirt.

Even though he was slammed hard to the ground, the apprentice challenger refused to let go of his Blade of Evil-Breaking. He gripped it tightly, its tip still pointed at Rorschach. Such determination was truly moving. Both the challenged Mage and Philippe, who was watching from the side, nodded in silent approval.

However, the match was decided in that single moment. Rorschach maintained the force of his Mage’s Qilin Arm to keep his opponent pinned, walking step by step toward the young swordsman.

Paul used all his strength, gritting his teeth to lift his head, but could only watch in despair as the newcomer strolled leisurely over and crouched down in front of him.

Rorschach glanced at the Blade of Evil-Breaking, which now only glowed with a dim golden light. He extended his right hand and flicked the surface of the blade with his finger.

The golden light and the blade shattered together.

’Was the Blade of Evil-Breaking under immense internal stress? Rorschach was certain his flick wasn’t powerful enough to shatter the blade on its own. Perhaps it was damaged from when it struck the target? No, this felt more deliberate. Could it have been designed to have a shrapnel effect after its Enchantment was depleted...?’

’It seems the Church’s weapon designers have talented smiths who can balance both magical and physical damage.’

"Rorschach Mage is the victor."

With neither side having sustained any serious injuries, Rorschach had smoothly defeated the challenger. He released his hold on Paul, but the kid didn’t seem to have any intention of getting up.

"Senior Rorschach, I... I couldn’t even make you... use your full strength... I’m so sorry."

’What are you thinking? It’s not your fault. You have no idea who I have to go all out against!’ Rorschach really wanted to show off, but acting smug in front of the entire research group didn’t seem like a good idea. He just smiled and reached out to pull Paul up.

"If you want to go further on the path of combat, master the Light Technique!" ’That way, you won’t be fighting alone!’

Paul was confused at first, but then he (thought he) understood Rorschach’s profound advice:

’Is Rorschach Mage telling me to delve deeper into Magic, even a non-combat one like the Light Technique?’ Paul then felt a wave of shame. ’Now that I’m at the Tower of Stars, I should be studying Magic more diligently to complement my combat abilities.’

He often prided himself on his Combat Skills from a land brimming with Martial Virtue, feeling superior to other Apprentices who could only cast spells and had weak bodies. Now, he had been thoroughly thrashed, both physically and mentally, by a true Mage.

Paul resolved to take his Magic studies more seriously. "I will take your teachings to heart!"

’Huh? I was just talking nonsense. Don’t go and spec into some weird class.’ Rorschach saw a sparkle in Paul’s innocent eyes that almost made him feel ashamed.

"The Magic test is over! For the Magic Array test, let’s just submit the Scroll to the Guild for direct verification. Rorschach, you can write a mid-term report as a milestone for this phase."

Kano was a little disappointed. ’The battle was too short and one-sided. I didn’t get to clear out the inventory of nearly expired Recovery Scrolls...’

...

While a "friendly spar" took place in the Tower of Stars, a decidedly "unfriendly spar" was on the verge of erupting within the Underground Tomb beneath Sacred Heart Cathedral.

The Sect’s last organized force in Valuva was now gathered in the depths of the tomb passages. The Elder led the way with an oil lamp, feeling his way forward between dried bones, murals, and stone sarcophagi.

He was growing irritable. He had waited all night, but Salamanda—the key figure foretold in the Great Mother’s revelation, the one he’d invested so much effort in nurturing—had never appeared.

He learned from Mother Earth’s revelation that this person was connected to the Kingdom’s largest corporation and a Sub-plane. He had sent a trusted subordinate to make contact, but now both of them were missing.

"We can’t wait any longer. With the Church and the Holy Knights focused on those plebeians in the East Suburb, this is our chance to escape." Thus, the Elder took the other members’ advice, leading his literally underground unit on the move.

He could hear prayers from behind him; some followers were praying to the sublime "Mother."

’What a display of weakness! Rituals are meant to be performed with utmost devotion at the proper time, not now, when you’re just disturbing a great existence and revealing your own incompetence...’

The Elder was very dissatisfied with the people behind him, but everyone’s nerves were frayed at the moment, so it wasn’t a good time for him to lash out.

But the sound of praying grew louder and spread. One person started, and gradually others joined in. Some even began secretly sniffing powdered drugs as they walked.

Even if each person was quiet, the collective sound swelled into a loud HUM that was especially jarring in the silent tomb passages.

"Stop, you idiots!" The Elder was on the verge of a breakdown. His team seemed to have forgotten they were fugitives, even though several layers of the tomb separated them from the Church’s lackeys.

These idiots couldn’t tell if the Elder wanted them to stop praying or stop walking. Most of them stopped everything. But one madman, high on the powder, not only stopped walking but also began to kneel and kowtow to his god.

The group happened to reach a fork in the path. He gestured for the people behind him to be quiet and pulled a map from his filthy robes to check. The map was crude, showing a route scouted out beforehand by a few key members. The destination was a sewer outlet in the suburbs on the other side.

The sound of praying finally stopped, but now the halted group heard a faint footstep—the sound of a shoe grinding against the dirt, the friction of tiny grains of sand, all amplified in the tomb passage.

The Elder’s lantern illuminated the last thing he wanted to see at the fork: figures, standing in both passages. The subordinate bringing up the rear also held a lantern, and its light revealed a squad of Armored Warriors steadily approaching from behind.

’When did the Holy Knights and the grey-robed men appear?’ This was the question no one could answer.

PFFT. PFFT. PFFT.

Starting from the last person in the line, Arrows of Judgment shattered the Cultists’ heads one by one. The Light of Judgment that erupted in six directions then obliterated their corpses. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

The leading Elder didn’t say a word. He smashed his lantern as quickly as he could. His body instantly shattered, but this wasn’t from a Holy Knight’s attack—it was his own doing.

"Go to hell! Those who believe in the Mother will die in the Earth! Those who believe in the false god will die beneath the Church! It is a fitting end for all! A fitting end!" Even though the Elder’s head, torso, and limbs were all exploding, his last words echoed completely through the tomb passage.

A thick green mist billowed from his robes and then gushed out, instantly filling the entire passage. The mist was not only toxic, but it also acted like a pheromone, catalyzing the "seeds" inside the cultists’ bodies.

Whether they were living or recently deceased Sect members, they all burst apart as immense vines erupted from their bodies, thick enough to threaten to collapse the tomb. Any skeletons that came into contact with the green mist were subject to a Reversal, becoming rotting, living corpses.

Like a germination process, the vines and green mist continuously grew and spread outwards and upwards, bursting from the tomb. The remains that had been resting peacefully in the tomb’s many layers were reanimated as restless living corpses, their numbers swelling.

The entire Sacred Heart Cathedral trembled and swayed. The great bell struck against its own clapper, emitting an ominous hum.