“Now that Foreno is dead, and he didn’t notify anyone in time because he wanted to monopolize the credit for discovering and capturing the Saintess... the dead don’t talk. He’ll keep our secret forever,” Luna said, staring toward a certain direction. “Even if the Church thinks it’s strange, all they can do is suspect some accident outside the plan—something like: they played with fire and burned themselves, and a demon went berserk.”

“Demon...??” Fennia looked genuinely shocked.

“Yeah. Otherwise, how could a mere grand archbishop like Foreno cause that much chaos?” Luna explained. “Creating a spatial pocket that mutable would be nothing but a fool’s dream. They must’ve used some method to activate a forbidden power.”

“Amisha should’ve felt it too, right?” Luna’s gaze shifted to Amisha. “Just a moment ago.”

“Mm-hm.” Amisha answered in affirmation, her expression thoughtful.

Speaking of that...

Vanessa recalled the crimson demon she’d seen right as she lost consciousness—and the words it had said.

The last time it would help her?

Medilia...??

Who was Medilia? The name felt oddly familiar to Vanessa, like she’d heard it somewhere before.

“Of course, that’s just my intuition and inference,” Luna continued. “We still don’t know exactly what they released, but it’s definitely something terrifying.”

“The Church... they dared to release a demon?” Fennia’s eyes went wide.

“Fennia, you still know too little,” Luna said with meaning. “Or rather—you’re still imagining the Church of the Dawn as something far too good. The insanity of the upper ranks now is beyond what you can picture.”

“So now you understand why we’re so desperate to find Facilis’s descendants. The only thing that can stop the Church now... is the bloodline of the goddess Facilis.”

“Has the Church... really become like this?” Fennia stood there, dumbstruck, still unable to believe it—unable to accept that the Church she’d believed in since childhood, the symbol of absolute justice and fairness, was in truth a horrifying monster with fangs bared.

They would rather drag countless academy students and innocent people into this senseless catastrophe just to unleash a demon—just to murder the Dawn Saintess who threatened their power and status.

All for selfish desire and greed, with no morality left. No bottom line.

And this was only the tip of their evil?

When had that radiant, sacred Church of the Dawn become so unfamiliar?

Fennia felt the holy, flawless place in her heart collapse in an instant.

Luna was the eldest daughter of the Haukekai Family—one of the core families in the Church’s power structure. She had to know countless secrets Fennia would never even hear of. And there were probably secrets even the Haukekai Family didn’t know.

By all logic, the Haukekai Family—one of the beneficiaries—had no need to do anything that ran against its interests. Yet they still chose this path.

There could only be one reason: in the eyes of those who still remembered the goddess’s teachings, the Church of the Dawn had truly rotted beyond saving.

“Fennia, you sensed it long ago too, didn’t you?” Luna said. “I can tell. You’ve been through things yourself, but you still clung to illusions about the Church and the Pope.”

“The sooner those filters shatter, the better. Don’t doubt it—I can tell you responsibly: Foreno wasn’t using the Pope as a shield. There’s a very high probability he was assigned by the upper ranks to deal with Lady Saintess in secret,” Luna continued. “As a member of the clergy inside Carillian Academy’s church, his identity was the most convenient. How many messengers were in between, I can’t say—but this had to be a direct order from the Pope.”

“Yes. I understand, Lady Luna. You’re right.” Fennia steadied herself. “A Church like that... when the demon race or the Demon Pillars come, it won’t be able to fight back at all.”

“And it’s not just you. Amisha told me a lot too.” Fennia calmed her breathing, then glanced at Amisha at her side.

“Amisha is better at discerning right and wrong,” Luna said with a smile. “But Amisha—you should be careful because of that too. If you rely too much on [Immaculate Eyes], one day it might mislead you.”

“Mm-hm. Thank you for the reminder, Lady Luna.” Amisha nodded, showing she’d taken it to heart.

“Then we’re aligned in thought and purpose. This isn’t a church, and Lady Saintess still can’t move properly yet, so we’ll put the oath aside for now,” Luna said to Amisha and Fennia.

Fennia and Amisha both nodded.

“An oath?” Vanessa looked at the three women, hesitant.

“An oath of loyalty to you, of course—Lady Saintess.” Luna’s smile turned soft as she explained.

“Lady Luna... isn’t that inappropriate?” Vanessa still couldn’t accept it, and she couldn’t help blurting it out.

“Inappropriate?” Luna asked. “Do you think something is wrong with it? Lady Saintess already decided, didn’t you? Since the Church of the Dawn won’t give you room to live, you’ve been forced—so you can only fight back.”

“If you’re going to resist, then you have to resist all the way. If you don’t have the resolve to go all the way, then you shouldn’t dare resist from the start. If you won’t take it to the end, it’s better not to do it at all.” Luna shook her head.

Vanessa understood Luna’s logic—how could she not?

“Lady Saintess, I’m not telling you to raise a banner right now, list every one of the Church’s sins, and openly rebel against the Church of the Dawn,” Luna said. “I’m telling you to be prepared. As long as we’re on the Tyrelis Continent, the Church of the Dawn will always be our enemy—yours, and ours.”

“If we don’t resist those beast-faced, human-hearted upper ranks, we’ll be killed. It’s that simple.”

Vanessa still hesitated, and Luna thought that was normal.

Until now, Vanessa had only felt disgust and revulsion toward the Church. She’d never intended to oppose it completely. This shift in mindset—from peace to constant readiness for battle—wasn’t the same thing at all.

“If you want to spend your whole life hiding in some deserted corner, barely surviving, I won’t stop you. I’ll still protect you,” Luna said. “But if you hate injustice and evil the way your ancestors did... then I will fight for you.”

As she finished, Luna placed one hand over her chest, dropped to one knee, and performed the highest grade of formal salute to Vanessa.

It was the salute clergy once used when swearing loyalty to the Saintess—abolished for a hundred years.

“I speak for my father—the head of the Haukekai Family—and for every member of the Haukekai Family.”

“The Haukekai Family is willing to fight to the last moment for Lady Saintess... and for all living beings,” Luna swore, solemn and unwavering.

“Lady Saintess, we’re the same!” Seeing that, Fennia and Amisha copied Luna’s posture and knelt on one knee as well.

“I understand.” After listening for a long time, Vanessa finally spoke, steady and calm. “All of you, get up. I understand.”

“Then... your decision is?” Luna looked at Vanessa quietly, holding her gaze. As the moment of the answer approached, her heart tightened without her wanting it to.

“I’ve never had any interest in the position of Saintess, or in the Church of the Dawn,” Vanessa said after a brief pause. “If they weren’t acting so insanely—disregarding lives, pushing me again and again, even throwing everything away just to put me to death—I would never do this.”

“Everything... is because they forced me.” Vanessa’s voice slowed, then hardened. “Since they won’t let me go... then I can only fight back to the end.”

“Welcome, Lady Saintess,” Luna said.

Relief loosened something inside Luna’s chest. If Vanessa refused to carry that banner, Luna truly didn’t know what would become of the Church—or what would become of humanity.

Once Vanessa said those words, Luna knew it: in that instant, Vanessa had truly made her decision to stand against the Church of the Dawn.

Luna had already laid everything bare to Vanessa, proving her own resolve—and the resolve of the Haukekai Family behind her. If Vanessa still chose to flee, then whether it was their family, the Church, or the entire Tyrelis Continent... everything might truly be heading toward a dead end.

Luna didn’t want to live to see the day the Church of the Dawn became a breeding ground for the demon race and the Demon Pillars’ cultists.

While Vanessa spoke, there was even an eager “audience” beside her.

Fennia listened with blazing excitement, hands clenched into fists, wearing the face of a devoted fangirl. As she listened, she kept sighing things like, ‘As expected of Lady Saintess—she truly carries all living beings in her heart, upholding justice and fairness!’ and so on.

Amisha’s eyes glittered as well. She repeated the sentence over and over, like she wanted to carve it into her mind forever—then decided that still wasn’t enough. Afraid she might forget even a single punctuation mark, she searched her whole body and somehow produced a tiny notebook from who-knew-where, silently writing down what Vanessa had said as if it were a golden maxim.

‘In the spring of the ninety-sixth year since the martyrdom of the previous Dawn Saintess, Sophia Facilis, Lady Saintess Vanessa Facilis—great-granddaughter of Saintess Sophia, not yet enthroned—held no desire for power and once said: “After my great-grandmother, the absence of a Saintess in the Church of the Dawn was history’s choice. If this is the will of all living beings, then I shall follow it, asking only that the God of Peace remain forever upon the Tyrelis Continent—never again letting war be born, never again letting there be bloodshed and suffering.”’

‘Yet after Lady Saintess Vanessa Facilis encountered and witnessed the Pope and his accomplices’ vile acts that enraged both man and god alike, her wise eyes saw through their wolfish ambitions. Unable to endure the Church’s sins, its decay and corruption, she spoke these heroic words: “The Church disregards lives and is steeped in evil. With no other choice, I can only step forward and seek justice and an accounting for all living beings!”’

‘Thus, history ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) reached its turning point.’

Amisha scribbled the two passages into her notebook, her eyes still filled with little stars.

“History will record it,” Luna said respectfully. “After a hundred years of vacancy, the Dawn Saintess returns. I guarantee you—one day, the name ‘Vanessa Facilis’ will be written into the annals.”

“Put that aside,” Vanessa said. “Lady Luna—about what the Church of the Dawn has been doing... what else do you know?”

“The Pope won’t let us know everything,” Luna replied. “But what I can say for certain is this: the uprising of Bronze Blood last semester, and even the Demon Pillars’ invasion afterward—he can’t be separated from any of it.”

“What?!” Fennia and Amisha both jolted.

They thought that “releasing a demon to kill the Saintess” was already the limit of insanity.

But there was worse?

Even the appearance of the Demon Pillars had something to do with them?

That was absurd.

So... had they been working for the greatest evil all along—acting as accomplices without even realizing it?

“...” Vanessa only knit her brows slightly. She didn’t look especially surprised.

“They don’t even care about a single Camella Kingdom anymore?”

“Maybe they really don’t need to care whether an individual human kingdom can threaten them,” Luna said. “As for the rest—I don’t have evidence, so I won’t say more.”

“...Those beasts in human clothing.” Vanessa rarely used curses at all, but her voice brimmed with disgust for the Church.

That was already the sharpest attack she could bring herself to speak.

“And they even went after Mirexia...”

“Right now, our best approach is to avoid alerting the Church, develop steadily, and wait until Lady Saintess has the ability to face them,” Luna laid out her plan. “Then we’ll rally the grassroots clergy and nuns who are willing to listen to you—who still believe in the goddess and the Saintess—and resist the Church.”

“Yes. That’s the most prudent approach for now.” Any more aggressive option, and the Church of the Dawn could wipe them out with a wave of its hand.

“Mm-hm, but before that, we have to restore Lady Saintess’s strength.” As she spoke, Luna resumed feeding Vanessa. “Here—open up and say ‘ah~.’”

“Lady Luna, please don’t.”

“But you can’t move right now. If we want to leave this place quickly, you have to recover as soon as possible.” Luna tilted her head.

“I know that,” Vanessa said. “But could you stop using that tone you use to coax children?”

“Huh?~ Lady Saintess doesn’t like it?”

“Just talk normally.”

“Okay. Since Lady Saintess said so—your command is obeyed~.”

After feeding Vanessa, Fennia carried her on her back, and the four of them set off again, searching for a way out of the jungle.

“By the way—what about the other students?”

“No idea. They probably got ejected at random like we did when that plane shattered apart,” Luna said, thoughtful.

“Lady Luna,” Vanessa said. “Do you know the name Medilia?”

“Me-di... lia?” Luna stopped walking and looked at Vanessa in confusion. “Lady Saintess—why are you suddenly asking about that name?”

“Mm-hm. I’m just asking. Do you know it?”

“I do,” Luna said. “If it isn’t a coincidence, then that name should be the name of the Twilight Demon God.”

“Twilight Demon God...??”

“Yeah. Twilight Demon God Medilia was the strongest of the Demon Pillars in ancient times,” Luna said. “Back then, the Tyrelis Continent wasn’t called the Tyrelis Continent, and Demon Pillar faith was everywhere—life was devastated, people couldn’t even make it from morning to night. Then your ancestor—the Dawn Goddess Facilis—rose, led her followers, and defeated Twilight Demon God Medilia. After that, the Church of the Dawn was founded, and Facilis was praised by later generations as the first benevolent deity who resolved to shelter the lives of Tyrelis and protect humanity.”

“I remember now,” Vanessa said.

With Luna’s reminder, Vanessa recalled hearing the history teacher talk about it last semester. At the time, she hadn’t listened very carefully—so the teacher had punished her by making her stand and answer a question.

Medilia...

Why had that demon brought up Medilia?

And “the last time it would help her”—did it mean her?

Why would a demon help Facilis, whose true nature was a Blessing Angel?

Was that demon Medilia’s subordinate?

That made even less sense. The Dawn Goddess Facilis was the Twilight Demon God Medilia’s mortal enemy—the very one who sealed the Twilight Demon God with her own hands. How could Medilia’s followers possibly go out of their way to save the Dawn Goddess’s descendant?

Put aside anything else—“a demon helping an angel” was itself ridiculous.

The more Vanessa thought, the less she understood.

She remembered something else, too—when they arrived at Kamov Mountain, the local guide had mentioned a rumor: that Kamov Mountain was formed from the corpse of a powerful demon.

Had Foreno awakened the remnant power of that demon?

Vanessa also remembered that in the Secret Realm (Marsmo), Kantesius had questioned her about what relationship she had with the Twilight Demon God.

Did she... look like the Twilight Demon God?

But how was that possible?

Medilia was a Demon Pillar, a god of demons—while Facilis was a Blessing Angel. They weren’t even the same race. There was no way to confuse the two.

Vanessa turned it over and over and still couldn’t reach a conclusion. In the end, it all came back to the same thing:

Those were events of ancient times. Too long ago. The authenticity of so many historical records couldn’t even be verified.

History books were written by people—and people had subjective intent. No one knew how far the recorded history diverged from the truth of the time. Information eroded as it was passed down, and the original truth only became more obscure.