The High Priest’s words made the Voidwalker laugh out loud in contempt. The Lich Walker, who was hidden in the shadows, cackled maniacally.

When the laughter died down, the Lich Walker raised his vibrant green staff and hissed menacingly. “Today, it looks like I’ll be acquiring one of the rarest souls on the market. What does your soul look like, O’ Reverend High Priest? Hee hee hee!”

The green aura of the undead suddenly surged out of the Lich Walker’s body.

The other Voidwalkers did nothing to stop him; they only sniggered in approval. Letting this High Priest go was something that never crossed their minds, even though they believed they had yet to figure out his motives. Why would they waste more time questioning a living man, when they could interrogate his soul after his death?

The Cleric Walker, an apostle that had long since abandoned the Church, walked forward. “Sir First Walker, a word please.”

The Archmage raised a hand, and the Lich Walker stopped in mid-cast and glared at the Cleric Walker.

“You don’t plan to defend this man, do you? Is there a reason to defend a mad man that thought it was a good idea to challenge us?” The Archmage asked, putting pressure on the Cleric Walker.

“I don’t think he is lying,” said the Cleric Walker. “The demons in the Abyss have once doubted me in a similar manner.”

He glanced at the High Priest, who was staring back with a look of surprise, and said, “Sometimes, devotion alone can compel a man to do mad but miraculous things.”

“This man says that he is the High Priest. Isn’t that a top position in the Church? How can someone that has occupied that position for such a long time remain devoted to their faith and not to power?” The Archmage asked.

The High Priest, who had been ready to speak up, slowly closed his mouth and lowered his head in shame.

“He may have been a devoted man once, but life can dull even the fiercest of passions. The angel’s descent may have reignited the embers in his heart,” replied the Cleric Walker.

“Why is that reason enough to let him live?” The Lich Walker interjected, visibly eager to finish what he had started.

“If the Church has yet to change the roles of its upper echelon, then the duty of a High Priest should still be as I remember it. They serve the immortals above — the gods and the Angels,” the Cleric Walker replied. “Although a High Priest’s role is merely ceremonial, the believers held them in really high regard. High Priests are known to us as “the ones closest to the gods,” as they lead the angel-summoning ritual.”

“I’m listening,” said the Archmage. He was starting to see the value in leaving the High Priest alive.

“Furthermore, the construction of the angel-summoning formation is completed, and the Church has already managed to summon an angel. Killing this man will not cause them to suffer a setback. If we keep him alive, though, we will be able to obtain information that only he knows. We could learn from him how to save Noirciel or defeat any angels that are summoned in the future. For these reasons, he is valuable.”

“Only if he’s willing to cooperate, though,” the Archmage said, still skeptical.

“Leave it to me, Sir First Walker,” the Cleric Walker replied.

A few minutes later, the High Priest was unceremoniously tossed through the open door of the Cleric Walker’s home. When the old man finally realized that he had been saved, he scrambled to his feet and said in shock, “You… you’re Saint Joel?”

The Cleric Walker did not reply, however; he still had not come up with something cool to say. As the old man did not get a reply, he decided to look around the simply-furnished house. His attention was instantly caught by pictures untidily pinned to the walls.

Moments after the High Priest squinted his eyes to examine the pictures, he froze. These were pictures of beautiful girls dressed in provocative clothes, proudly showing off their youth! Some of these pictures were full-body photographs, but the others were shots of specific areas of the young girls’ bodies. The skirts the girls wore were way shorter than what the Scripture depicted, revealing tons of snow-white tighs, partially covered lady parts, and silk socks of different colors and patterns.

The High Priest felt his world crumbling around him. Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm the old man, who whispered, “Are you… really Saint Joel?”

The Saint Joel that he knew had ventured in the Abyss alone to slay demons! He was in no way similar to the pervert that owned these pictures! Unfortunately, the reality before him was overwhelmingly scary — as scary as a little girl walking over and suddenly pulling up her skirt, flashing her underaged lady part!

Now, the High Priest, a member of the Church’s upper echelon, was privy to the shameful secret of a legendary saint, who now walked with the Voidwalkers. As someone that had attended many top meetings, he knew that the Church had opted to censor Saint Joel’s legend and smear the Apostle’s reputation.

What the old man did not expect was that the smearing had been done by the Apostle himself. Any follower of the Church that had the misfortune to see the Apostle’s collection would instantly reject him, else they would lose their sanity. Why would there be a need to smear someone that already had a terrible reputation?

The Cleric Walker was not bothered about this. His darkest secret had just been discovered by someone that worshipped him, yet he stood tall; it was as though he had done nothing wrong. As though he was an experienced pervert trying to lure over a novice, the Cleric Walker said, “You must learn to enjoy beauty without lust. Use your heart, not your eyes.”

‘Nope. I can’t do that; I just can’t. Even if a group of good-looking female priests surrounds me, I can’t. I’m long since past that.’ the High Priest refused instantly in his mind.

Seeing that the old man remained terrorized, the Cleric Walker kindly said, “You’re still traumatized by the incident in the hall, aren’t you? Don’t worry. The Lord says, ‘Peace I leave unto you, the faithful.'”

A ray of golden light briefly covered the High Priest, and the old man’s feeling of dread instantly vanished.

“That was ‘Deliverance’, wasn’t it?” The High Priest asked in surprise. This was the first time anyone had cast the spell on him. Deliverance was used to placate the Church’s traumatized war veterans.

The spell seemed simple, but in reality, it was one of the ‘Words of God’. Only the most devoted believers were blessed with the gift to speak these words. Hence…

“Saint Joel,” the High Priest shakily whispered. “Could it be that my Lord still sees you as one of His children?”

“Beats me. I don’t know what he’s thinking,” the Cleric Walker replied.

When the High Priest heard that, he almost fell backward. It was as though he had just been struck by lightning — a feeling he had had the misfortune of experiencing multiple times today. Such remarks were already reason to call the Church’s Inquisitors on this Apostle! How could someone that defied the One True God still retain the ability to cast the most sacred of theurgical spells?

“You seem surprised. Unbelievable, isn’t it? It’s true, though. As shocking as it may be, I’m telling the truth, just as you were back in that room,” said the Cleric Walker.

The High Priest was silent for a few seconds, after which he said, “You’re loved by God, yet you ally yourself with those demons, committing many acts that violate our doctrine. Are you not worried that the Lord will punish you once he finds out about this?”

“The Lord is busy. He has to cast light up every corner of this universe. He has to oversee every realm and look after the lives of billions. He really doesn’t have the time to peek into one man’s thoughts and condemn him,” the Cleric Walker replied, chuckling.

The Voidwalker walked over a window and opened it, letting the light from the morning sun. The room was illuminated, and the pictures became easier to see.

“The demons you mentioned — who you and the Church detest — are doing whatever they can to save an abandoned Angel from death,” said the Cleric Walker with a smile. “Tell me: what did your lot do for her?”

The High Priest was silent. Various thoughts crossed his mind, and a few seconds later, the old man was still silent, his conscience heavy.

Only after a few minutes had passed did the High Priest look up and say, “Your faith has ascended to another level, hasn’t it? Is this what Ascension truly means?”

“Dunno.” The Cleric shrugged and leaned against the window sill. The light permeating the room made him seem as though he was covered in a golden aura.

The High Priest silently stared for a while, quietly getting enlightened. After some time, he finally said, “It feels as though I have lost my faith, but at the same time, it feels as though it has been restored strengthed.”

His oxymoron made the Cleric Walker chuckle. “You’re easier to guide than Laeticia! I guess it was right to call High Priests like you ‘People closest to the gods’.”

The High Priest bowed in gratitude and solemnly said, “I’ll tell you everything I know.”

The other Voidwalkers soon learned of the Cleric’s success in getting through to the High Priest. The Archmage could not help his surprise. “What the hell? That’s it? He gave in?”

The Paladin Walker chuckled. “Well, that’s faith for you; it works in mysterious ways. Sometimes, it’s more trouble than it’s worth, and other times, it moves men to create miracles.” As the Cleric’s Walker partner-in-crime, the Paladin Walker knew more than most of his antics.

“This is something I will never understand. You two have fallen so out of line, becoming perverted degenerates, yet you can use abilities given to the most faithful. Just how did that happen?” The Archmage asked.

“I guess the Church would see us as degenerates; after all, we did discard their teaching. Then again, those lessons are man-made. Should we base our faith on God or a man-made book?” The Paladin asked, replying with a question of his own.

“Fascinating. So, you reconcile the oxymoron of an ‘unfaithful faith’ by appealing not to a book written by mortals, but to your god alone. Has it always been this simple?” The Scholar Walker asked. “This harkens to a folklore from planet Earth, where a filthy mad monk that sleeps in the dirt is, in actuality, an awakened being.”

“Yep. It really is just that,” the Paladin Walker replied. “For someone that has been taught the Church’s principles since childhood, it’s difficult not to see these principles as absolutes. It can be tough to swallow. It’s similar to being told that your ‘waifus’ aren’t real and don’t love you…”