Bardos pulled Anrika aside, frowning. "What happened to you just now? Your Holy Light was all over the place."
They'd worked together for years and knew each other's power well.
He'd clearly sensed a sudden surge of Holy Light from Anrika—something that should only happen when one received divine grace or heard an oracle.
But neither of those things had happened just now.
Anrika blinked, then took out a small crystal. With a light squeeze, a soft white glow flickered inside it.
Both men leaned in to take a closer look. After a moment, Bardos nodded decisively. "Yeah, that's brighter than usual. Did your state of mind reach a breakthrough?"
Anrika shook his head. That wasn't it.
He was almost certain it had something to do with Steve—specifically whatever that strange being had done to him when his head was hurting earlier.
After explaining his suspicion, Bardos rubbed his chin and summed it up:
"So you're saying... he can make an Oathsworn Knight form Oaths at his command. Even duplicate them—and in doing so, strengthen the Holy Light within?"
The implications hit him immediately.
One of the Church's long-standing problems was how inefficient Oathsworn Knight training was.
Their power came from Oaths. To become pillars of the Holy Cross Church, knights either had to swear great Oaths or stack several smaller ones.
But both paths were like walking a tightrope. It was easy to break an Oath.
Even more so for rookies.
But if Steve really possessed the power they were imagining, then theoretically the Church could mass-produce Oathsworn Knights—no cost, no risk—and its strength would skyrocket overnight.
The more they thought about it, though, the more terrifying it became.
Could Steve change their Oaths after they'd been sworn?
If so... did that mean he had the power to alter people's thoughts?
Even just his ability to amplify Holy Light was horrifying enough.
On a small scale, he could rally countless classes that only required Holy Light affinity—instantly raising an army of Paladins.
On a larger scale... if Holy Light was believed to be the Holy God's gift to mankind, then Steve could easily pose as that very god—and shake the Church's foundations to its core.
A chill ran down Bardos's spine. He shivered involuntarily.
He turned to see Flanda standing not far from Steve, curiously watching his every move.
The naive Saintess had no idea that the person she was observing might very well be the demon destined to overturn her Church.
"We need to report this to the Church immediately," Anrika said gravely.
"But we swore an Oath," Bardos sighed. "We can't tell anyone what the Saintess does. We can't refuse her orders. We can't leave her side. Hell, we can't even act without her approval."
He exhaled slowly. "And after what happened in the Church... there's no way she'll willingly go back."
Anrika grimaced. "If we explain what's at stake, she should understand... probably."
They exchanged a glance—and both saw the same unease in the other's eyes.
Meanwhile, Steve had finished packing his things and approached Bardos, opening the Trading Interface.
Unfortunately, most of the items overlapped with Anrika's list. The only difference was a trade option: Training Greatsword → Journal.
He lost interest almost immediately.
After closing the interface, he checked on his Villager breeder—only to find no new baby Villagers had spawned.
What, not enough food? He had tossed them bread yesterday, but they must've split it up already.
So he went back to his fields, harvested another batch of wheat, and composted the extra seeds into bone meal before sprinkling it back over the crops.
After crafting a stack and a half of bread, he decided to rebuild the breeder up in the sky.
He built a walled staircase, crouched beside the two Villagers, and tried nudging them up.
They hesitated at first, clearly nervous about getting close to him—but once they realized what he wanted, they obediently climbed the steps themselves.
That made Steve quite pleased. Sure, the reputation system was garbage—but the Villager behavior AI and logic? Top-tier.
He dropped the bread in front of them, dismantled the staircase to cut off contact, and left the area satisfied.
After tidying up his inventory, he set out for the nearby town to check if any of the Villagers there were buying string.
He also wanted to see if any new Commissions had appeared. Fourteen Emeralds for a batch of ores still seemed like a fair trade to him.
What he didn't notice was Flanda, frozen in place, staring up at the floating structure he'd just built.
"H-how did he do that?"
She kept smacking Halls on the shoulder, over and over like she was pounding a drum. "I didn't feel any magic at all! Is there some kind of invisible mechanism?!"
It was the first time Halls had seen floating architecture too. He'd been trying to analyze how it worked—but Flanda's nonstop slaps had completely derailed his thoughts.
"How should I know?" he snapped. "Ask the locals. They've known him longer than I have!"
Flanda immediately darted toward Tom, bombarding the poor doctor with questions while pointing excitedly at the structure.
But the moment Tom saw Jack's head poking out from the floating house, his eyes went wide—and with a strangled yelp, he fainted dead away.
Flanda just stood there, utterly baffled. Fortunately, some panicked Villagers rushed in to carry Tom back home, and the village chief, Edmund Gray, stepped in to take over conversation duty.
He didn't understand how the rocks were floating either—but then he remembered something.
The Villagers had once tried to move Steve's workbench to block off a wall, and no matter how many of them pushed, it hadn't budged an inch.
He mentioned this to Flanda, and her eyes lit up in realization.
"Wait... could it be that?"
Anrika, watching from the side, suddenly got an idea and stepped forward. "The Church's library is vast. It might contain records of such power. Maybe even methods to learn it."
We have to trick her into going back.
Flanda frowned, clearly displeased at the mention of the Church.
"Think about it," Anrika continued. "If he truly possesses this power, the archives might reveal more of his secrets. And if you learned it, Saintess—imagine hiding yourself up in the sky, where no one could ever find you."
"Oh, that's true!" Flanda's eyes sparkled.
She pictured herself living among the stars, surrounded by celestial beings, and smiled in delight.
"No time to waste, then! Shall we leave right now?" Anrika asked.
"Of course!"
Flanda hopped into the carriage, even turning to wave impatiently for them to hurry. Both knights exhaled in relief.
Finally, they'd talked her into returning.
After a quick farewell to Halls, Anrika joined Bardos at the front. The two Oathsworn Knights took the reins and set off toward the royal capital—the Holy Cross Church's headquarters.
It was a long journey, but what they needed to report was important enough to deliver directly to His Holiness himself.
By midday, they stopped in a nearby town, and Anrika went to buy lunch. But just as he was about to hand the food into the carriage—
A shriek pierced the air.
"MY DIARY!!"
Bardos immediately rapped on the carriage wall. "Saintess?"
No response—just Flanda's wailing.
"My diary! My key!
"And my money!
"They're gone! They're all gone!
"Nooo!"