Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods!-Chapter 541 - 97-The Light and Shadow of the Church

Clack, clack, clack...

The crisp sound of high heels echoed from outside the door.

Alan turned his head and saw the third princess walking in—this time dressed in a black and white nun's habit. A silver cloud-shaped pendant hung around her neck, resting against her chest.

A pale headscarf neatly covered her flowing hair, adding an aura of solemnity and reverence to her overall appearance. If she were to line up with the other nuns in the Church, one would never suspect that she was anything but devout.

"Here. This is for you."

She casually tossed a dark blue robe toward Alan.

The garment resembled those worn by priests—long, with an extended hemline and a white bow tied neatly at the collar.

Alan said nothing. He simply shrugged off his coat, revealing his well-defined, angular muscles.

The third princess quickly averted her gaze and muttered with a stiff tone, "Wait… wait until I leave before you change."

Ten minutes later, Alan stepped out wearing the fitted dark blue priest robe.

The third princess was stunned.

She'd never noticed before, but now—wrapped in the elegant robe—Alan looked like a completely different man. His tall, broad frame filled the outfit perfectly, particularly where his sloped trapezius muscles propped up the shoulders like a custom display mannequin.

His sharp nose, and his ash-gray hair that fell gently to his shoulders, made him stand apart from the bloated, mundane priests one usually saw. He exuded a unique, melancholic charm.

Without realizing it, the third princess took a step closer to him.

Standing side by side, the sharp and commanding presence they usually carried had completely disappeared. They now looked like a solemn priest and a graceful nun, just stepping out from some sacred hall.

Alan gave a wry smile and looked down at his luxurious yet modest robe. "We're just going to sell something. Isn't this a bit… excessive?"

The third princess replied seriously, "The underground marketplace doesn't just serve the Plantagenet Kingdom. Clients come from Kent, Albion, and even the surrounding minor nations."

Alan's brow furrowed. "Then that means… people from Lioncrest Academy might also be part of this shady trade?"

"Exactly." She nodded.

"But that's not our concern. Even though the marketplace has vast networks, it still operates under the Church's shadow organization."

"They're like two sides of the same coin—light and shadow. Opposed yet interdependent. If someone tries to cause trouble inside, the Church will step in. That's the one rule."

"If Lioncrest Academy's people have any sense, they won't start a fight over something as risky as a tier-diamond magic scroll—not at the expense of offending the Church."

Alan thought for a moment and agreed with her logic.

Then he said, "By the way, I remember seeing the Church's emblem at that bakery. I think Sophia's family are believers. Since we're going there anyway, how about inviting her along?"

"Sophia?"

The third princess blinked, then waved her hand dismissively. "She can't come."

"Huh? Why not?"

Seeing his concern, she chuckled softly and said, "Don't worry. She's not in any danger. One of my old acquaintances asked for her help."

"Calling it help might be a stretch—it's more like teaching. It's actually a good opportunity for her."

"…Alright then."

Alan sighed and didn't press the matter.

Just then, a ripple of mana appeared between them.

Alan instinctively went on alert, but the third princess calmly raised her hand, signaling him not to panic.

The peculiar mana wave soon manifested as several lines of encrypted text in midair.

Alan couldn't understand a word, but the third princess seemed to read it with ease.

"Just as I suspected," she said. "Barton Kingdom and Kent Kingdom have both sent powerful figures to the transaction. Are you ready?"

She gave Alan's shoulder a firm pat.

"Ready for what?" he asked.

"To kill, of course," she said in a low voice. Her eyes glinted like sharpened blades.

"Kill… huh," Alan repeated the word silently in his heart.

He wasn't afraid of killing. Back when he was still at House Roan, he had already taken many lives.

Among those were elders who had watched him grow up, and even a few who were—at least nominally—his kin.

But they had all been small fry, people of little consequence.

The third princess was different. As a commander-level figure, the number of people she had slain—and their caliber—far surpassed his own.

The thought of it made his [Battle Spirit] swell.

To face off against formidable enemies, where death lurked at every corner… he had already experienced the thrill and terror of such moments in his fight against Duke Mogan.

Yet there was no denying it—under extreme pressure, he grew faster and stronger.

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This trip to the Church wasn't just about making money; it was a trial by fire. Alan wanted to test just how much he had improved since his last fight.

But just as he was getting fired up, the third princess suddenly changed her mind.

"No… forget it. You can accompany me to the Church, but I'll handle the transaction alone."

"…What?"

Alan's rising excitement deflated instantly. After all that talk, now she was backing out?

"That's too dangerous," he protested. "Didn't you say other kingdoms have sent their top fighters? If no one helps draw their attention, and you're all alone…"

"Alan."

Her voice turned sharp as she interrupted him.

"Face reality."

"Whether it's Barton or Kent or any of the smaller powers, none of them can touch me. I have Ironblood City behind me. I have the royal family."

"But you? You're just a nobody. Anyone could crush you underfoot without consequences. You'd be risking your life just by showing up."

"You are not going to the marketplace. That's not a request. That's an order."

Faced with her resolute stance, Alan could only shrug. "What else can I say? You're the boss."

Before long, the two of them arrived at the Church's base in Ironblood City.

Though the city itself radiated a brutal, militant energy—true to its name—the Church was an anomaly. Under the golden sunlight, the Baroque-style stone structure emanated a holy and ancient aura.

As Alan stepped through the doors into the great hall, an elderly nun slowly approached them.

"May the blessings of Steam and Magic be upon you, dear Third Princess," she greeted respectfully. "The confessional is currently vacant. Would you like to speak your truth?"

The third princess nodded, and she and Alan were soon led into a small enclosed chamber.