"God said..."

A low, hoarse voice echoed from the cold, damp depths of the prison, breaking the silence. Missionary Lancaster Fisher began a worship routine befitting a devout believer.

His hands were bound by coarse iron chains. He knelt devoutly on the floor, facing the only source of light embedded in the prison wall.

Although it was merely a magic crystal inset in the stone, not sunlight, at this moment he treated it as a symbol of the "sun," the focus of his faith.

He inhaled deeply, as if trying to expel every ounce of grime and fear from his lungs, then summoned all his strength to chant:

"God said I am Ignis, the first flame, father of radiance. From chaos and void I ignited the first spark, drove away the eternal cold, and brought warmth and life to the world. Where my light shines, darkness retreats, life sprouts, and order first appears. I gave the spark to our ancestors so they could learn to cook, keep out the cold, and forge tools, leaving ignorance behind and stepping onto the path of civilization. My holy chalice brimmed with undying sacred fire, forever illuminating my followers!"

His chanting was not ornate, and because of weakness it was somewhat broken, but the sincerity and faith within it acted like a spark that instantly rekindled the inner flame of belief in the other Sun Church followers.

They began to resume their daily worship.

Then a second voice rose, from a younger believer.

"God said— I am Ignis, lord of the daylight, the measure of time. I drive the golden sun-chariot across the heavens, marking day and night and establishing the four seasons. My radiant scepter guides the way so the lost will not wander and travelers can find their path. My light not only illuminates the earth but also the heart, dispelling ignorance, lies, and the shadows of evil!"

A third voice joined, that of an elderly worshipper.

"God said I am Ignis, the purifying flame, the shield of protection. My sacred fire burns away all impurity and blasphemy, cleanses souls, and defends purity. My blazing barrier guards the faithful from the encroachment of darkness and demonic interference. Those who believe in me will receive the shelter of my flame, their souls forever bathed in warmth and safety."

One after another, more Sun Church followers joined the chant, their voices merging into a resonant chorus.

That resonance seemed to penetrate the cold stone walls and iron bars. In that prison filled with despair, it constructed an unshakable fortress of faith, resisting the pervasive pressure of external shadows and spiritual corrosion.

However, when the last syllable of the chant fell and the resonance gradually faded, the prison fell silent again, and a creeping sense of powerlessness and confusion settled into each believer's heart.

Yes... God had spoken so much, praised so much, but why did God not answer their prayers?

Why could the sun's light not reach this deep underground?

Why did the sacred fire not burn the nests of these desecrators?

In the silence, Lancaster bowed his head. His hands remained bound in iron chains, but he slowly brought his palms together in front of his chest.

He no longer chanted the holy name of the sun.

Instead, in a faint voice, he began to pray to another deity.

He prayed for a response from that holy messiah, the supreme being of the Slime.

A few weeks ago, even a few days ago, such an act would have been inconceivable to him.

As a missionary trained in orthodox theology, the purity and exclusivity of faith were fundamental principles.

To my understanding, Ignis the Sun is the sole and supreme god.

But now...

My gaze involuntarily drifted to the opposite side of the cell. Through the gaps in the iron bars, I could see the figure outside, even in this place far from decorum.

The vampire bishop, Casimir.

Everything changed because of that debate.

When we were first imprisoned, in the torment of despair and fear, several senior Sun Church followers tried to persuade that heretic vampire to convert to the Sun, to prove the power of their faith and find some meaning in their dark captivity.

The result... we were utterly defeated by that vampire.

Not defeated by rhetoric or theology, but defeated by the opponent's unparalleled devotional faith.

He doubted his heart, doubted his faith, and so learned to listen.

He listened to Casimir tell, in that elegant tone, epic accounts of His Majesty the Slime—how he unified the chaotic swamp, established order and civilization, how he granted vampires rebirth and returned the Dark Realm to order... These stories sounded absurd and incredible, full of inexplicable miracles.

But strangely, when Lancaster emerged from hearing those narratives, he found himself involuntarily feeling respect for His Majesty the Slime.

He began to wonder what kind of deity could make a vampire believer so devout, so confident, that even in dire straits he still believed salvation would come.

Sun believers always considered Ignis the Sun most sacred and rarely placed faith elsewhere. In practice, the Sun Church did not forbid followers from embracing multiple beliefs. It was just that the brilliance of the sun often overshadowed other, fainter stars.

Lancaster discovered that all along he had never truly conquered his fear of death. When darkness swallowed light, when the prison cut off hope, when prayers sank without reply... that bone-deep terror and despair coiled tightly around his heart, choking his breaths.

Casimir's optimism, confidence, and composure were like a warm ray of light that cut through the prison's gloom and infected him.

That vampire bishop truly seemed to believe that His Majesty the Slime would guide them out of here. That certainty was not blind fanaticism but an unquestionable conviction.

So Lancaster started to try, during the long, painful confinement, in moments when sun prayers brought no comfort, he began to meditate on the Slime.

That Slime was concrete—Casimir described a great, exalted being, full of wisdom and power. He called this Majesty the holy messiah, meaning savior.

A strange thing happened.

When he immersed himself in such meditation, the agitation and fear within him gradually calmed. An indescribable tranquility, like warm gel, wrapped his taut nerves.

It felt as if an unseen Slime savior silently watched him from afar, listened to his suffering, and offered wordless consolation.

From then on, it snowballed.

Slime.

This existence, once simply a synonym for low-level magical creatures, silently became his spiritual support. It no longer seemed ugly and slimy; in his imagination it grew plump and cute, emitting a gentle green glow, full of vitality and hope.

Even in his dreams, he saw a Slime angel burning with warm flames descend into the dark prison, gently wrapping them with gel wings and carrying them out of the cell toward the light.

He became increasingly convinced this was a divine revelation, the messiah's response, that he had received answers from both the sun and the Slime.

But... the day of the lunar eclipse was approaching.

The New Sun followers had been increasing their activities recently, and the barely concealed excitement among them signaled that some major ritual was imminent.

Lancaster heard the guards whispering words like sacrifice, New Sun, and sublimation, and he suddenly felt dazed.

Could they really obtain redemption?

Would the M God's salvation truly arrive before the eclipse?

Guilt washed over him. He felt guilty that his faith was not as steadfast as he had imagined. Before the final test, he had succumbed to fear and dreaded death.

Casimir in the opposite cell seemed to sense the confusion among the Sun Church followers. He slowly opened his eyes.

His gaze passed through the iron bars and fell upon Lancaster and the other puzzled Sun followers. He smiled devoutly and said:

"Lost little M lambs, God will guide our path."

"Trust me, salvation has already come."

"Has salvation truly come..."

Those words cleaved through the fog in Lancaster's heart like a thunderclap and ignited a final spark of hope in the eyes of the would-be Slime believers.

Lancaster was deeply moved.

He could not hold back. With palms joined, facing Casimir, he knelt to pray, murmuring, "Thank you... great M God... thank you for your watchful care and protection..."

Other would-be Slime believers followed suit and knelt to pray as well.

A New Sun guard watching nearby sneered at the scene and spoke with scorn:

"The New Sun will come. Ignis? He is merely the sun's usurper. He will return to his rightful place."

As for that so-called M God, he could not be bothered to mention it. To him it was merely the foolish crutch of a dying group.

Casimir saw the contempt in his eyes. Instead of anger, he chuckled lightly and said, "New Sun followers, you will pay for your scorn."

No sooner had he finished speaking than the shadow of a guard beside the New Sun cultist suddenly moved within the cell.

He warned, "Adventurers have gathered outside Coral Lane. It is said there are even Slime adventurers from the Slime Kingdom. The church's location has been exposed. Liam's envoy orders us to withdraw immediately!"

Adventurers gathered? Slime adventurers too?

The Sun Church followers inside were shaken to the core. Could it be... M God truly heard their prayers and responded?

Their salvation was really here!

The New Sun guard's expression darkened.

Exposed? Impossible. But a messenger would not lie. They had no time to tend to the prisoners; they turned to leave and prepared to melt into the shadows for evacuation.

At that moment, Casimir suddenly said, "Young believer, I warned you. You will pay for your scorn."

Casimir raised his hand devoutly and murmured an ancient sacred prayer,

[Holy Flame Art]

In an instant, an overwhelming blaze of sacred annihilation burst from Casimir, and a fierce gold-white light instantly dispelled the prison's gloom and chill.

Two New Sun guards attempting to enter the shadows were taken completely by surprise and were engulfed by that sudden sacred annihilation.

They let out piercing screams as their dark robes ignited. What terrified them further was that this holy fire seemed to behave like gel, with a distinct adhesive quality and unusual persistence. It clung to them tightly; no matter how they rolled, slapped, or tried to use shadow power to extinguish it, the holy blaze only burned hotter.

The Sun followers realized then that Casimir had not used dark vampire clan magic but bona fide divine spells.

A cleric!

Unbelievable—within this dim prison, a vampire cleric had been born!

The believers' eyes flamed with fanaticism. They gazed at Casimir, wrapped in gold-white sacred fire, his silhouette transformed into something holy. Their shock and reverence reached a peak.

"Praise the holy messiah M God!" several Sun followers could not help but shout.

The cry stirred other worshippers into resonance. They too began to call out the holy messiah's name.

At that moment, they were no longer merely Sun believers; they were also Slime believers.

Casimir glanced at the scorched guard on the floor and refinedly adjusted his collar. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

He turned to the excited believers and declared, "Lost M lambs, follow me out of the darkness. God has opened a path to our freedom!"

As he spoke, he raised his wrist. The magic on his hand, under the burning sacred flame, became red and fragile.

He gently strained, and the iron chain snapped.

[True Words of Healing]

[Pious Shield]

The light emanating from him shone onto the other believers, burning through the shackles that bound them, healing their bodies, and imbuing their flesh with pious strength.

"Praise the holy messiah M God!"

Led by Casimir, the fervent believers rushed out of their cells and charged down dark corridors toward hope.

...

Outside.

Coral Lane had changed completely. The daytime calm and clamor had long since vanished, replaced by a tense, solemn atmosphere.

Countless Xirik followers in deep dark robes poured out of the secret exits of the underground church.

In the crowd, the envoy Liam—dressed in an exquisite black robe—scanned the chaotic scene with cold precision, and hissed, "Follow me!"

The next moment, his figure began to blur, becoming one with the surrounding shadows as he prepared to usher the cultists away through Shadow Traversal.

Suddenly, a sharp sense of danger struck him. Without hesitation, he pulled out of the shadow and dodged to the side.

Almost simultaneously, a cold gleam flashed through the place he had just been merging into.

Liam glanced and saw a little girl in a black cloak step slowly from the shadow he had been about to enter. A small, emerald-green gel Slime perched on her shoulder.

She held a shadow dagger and wore a trace of regret on her face, as if sorry her previous strike had missed.

But Liam's attention was not on the girl herself so much as on the shadow behind her.

That shadow looked ordinary, like the simple silhouette any object casts under light.

Yet in his sensitive Shadow Perception, he felt this shadow as if it were a huge reef rising from a turbulent sea of shadows. No matter how the surrounding waves crashed, it stood immovable, and faintly pressed down on reality itself.

Incredible... too incredible.

He did not understand what it was, but the scent of danger was clear. He judged without doubt that this was no ordinary shadow creature.

Immediately, Liam signaled the nearby cultists to disperse and flee. He had no intention of lingering to tangle with Nilly.

Outside Coral Lane, the Slime mages who had been waiting for orders lifted magical crystals the size of human heads and forcefully embedded them into the pre-cut grooves of the magic formation on the ground.

Hum!!

A low hum, like the heartbeat of the earth, instantaneously reverberated through the entire Coral Lane area.

From the ground around Coral Lane, a curtain of gold-white holy light rose. The formation's lines were intricate and exquisite, filled with sacred geometry and ancient prayer glyphs. They interlocked and layered until they formed a massive cage of light in the air.

Those New Sun followers attempting to flee into the shadows were struck at once.

The shadow power on them, upon touching the holy formation's light, dissolved like snow under a blazing sun and vaporized instantly.

Many cultists were forced out of Shadow Traversal, collapsing to the ground in clumsy heaps, black smoke curling from them as if their skin burned with searing pain.

Coral Lane became a cage. The New Sun followers lost their most prized asset and could only panic, hiding in the shadows of buildings on either side of the alley.

"Charge!"

Led by the childlike voice of a Slime adventurer, a well-equipped party of adventurers burst into Coral Lane, hurtling toward those cornered New Sun followers.