Nuriel's body instinctively covered his mouth before he could utter another blasphemous phrase.
'If she were an omnipotent god, she would know I'm here and would've smited me or something.' He paused for a moment. Fortunately, there were no sudden acts of God that affected him.
Easing his tensed muscles, he continued onward. Inside, his gaze immediately lifted. Vaulted ceilings stretched like the ribs of giants. The walls shimmered with a soft kaleidoscope of sunset filtering through stained glass.
He walked slowly down the center aisle. Light pooled and scattered across his clothes, painting him with orange and violet as the last rays of day cast their hues through the colored glass.
He settled at the farthest row, trying to avoid the crowd, but it was a futile effort. The cathedral was packed. He was shoulder to shoulder with strangers, their warmth suffocating, their silence loud.
Despite the closeness, he listened. Sometimes mouthing curses in prayer, sometimes simply mimicking others despite his self-protest. Time passed in layers of prayers, scripture, moments of silence, then solemn chants echoing through the holy halls.
'What a bore.' Listening to the flat tone of the priest was the perfect lullaby for people stricken with insomnia.
His shoulders drooped as his vision began to slip into darkness. 'If you wanted to take my scepter, then you should let me peacefully sleep in your own home, parasite.'
'Parasite.'
'That's your nickname from now on, Steel Witch.'
In the void, his mind drifted aimlessly. He wasn't dreaming, nor was he totally asleep but just aware enough to know he existed in that moment.
The stillness was soothing, more so than the lullaby of the priest. Before he could sink further into his subconscious, he faintly heard something, whispering at the back of his mind, just noticeable enough to acknowledge.
[Recognized Authority Key]
[Accessing user credentials]
[Successful]
[Welcome, Nuriel!]
"PRAISE THE WITCH!" the priest roared, and the crowd followed suit, their voices surging like fire in a dry forest.
Nuriel's body woke straight up from the sudden burst of sound, but his mind was focused on one thing. For a split second, he heard the scepter system as clear as day.
'It still exists and I can access it!' Nuriel thought of every possible scenario but couldn't help affirming its realness.
Before he could continue, a man bumped into him in a rush, eyes burning with religious fervor as he rammed through everyone in his way. "Move, you rascal!"
Nuriel stared at the man, only for another to crash into him like a freight train.
"You're in my way. Move!"
Nuriel clicked his tongue as he was forced aside to the central hallway. For some reason, the entire mass was surging toward the altar. He stepped into a quieter corner, suddenly alone in a crowd.
He tried contacting the scepter in his head once more but nothing occurred.
'Perhaps it only works when I'm asleep.'
Nuriel leaned back against the wall as if he was out of breath. He watched the rushing tide of believers. The screams were too incoherent for his ears to form an explanation.
His mind struggled to focus on a topic. The commotion was too intense to be a typical ceremony, and the possible existence of the Scepter System gnawed at him.
Then, amid the noise, a new sound emerged, quiet footsteps approaching.
Nuriel turned. A man in weathered pastoral robes approached. The fabric was faded from decades of wear. His face bore the calm wisdom of age, softened by a flicker of youth in the way his eyes moved. Before Nuriel could speak, the pastor greeted him first.
"Aren't you interested?" the old man asked with a wry smile. "This is a once-in-a-century experience."
Caught off guard, Nuriel took a moment to compose himself. He placed a hand over his chest and offered a slight bow. "Reverend Father, I'm not much of a fanatic," he replied carefully, ensuring his tone didn't sound dismissive.
"Even if it's a piece of God?" the pastor replied with a sigh, glancing toward the commotion. "That preacher up there is my apprentice. I suppose he couldn't resist announcing it early. Looks like I'll be in deep trouble." Rubbing his chin, the old man chuckled, seemingly amused despite the chaos around them.
'A piece of what? I wasn't paying attention.' Nuriel considered probing for the details he missed.
Before Nuriel could reply, the pastor noticed Nuriel's hesitance and pressed another question, "What do you think of our holy witch, young man?"
'I think she's a greedy parasite.' Nuriel almost said it aloud but stopped. Excommunication or a sentence was worth more than his ego. "A mortal like me can't begin to describe a divine being."
Raising one of his eyebrows, the pastor replied in a joking manner, "Same."
'This guy.' Nuriel stood frozen for a moment. He questioned if this man was a charlatan disguised in clerical robes.
The old pastor cleared his throat. "Anyway, you should really go see it before it's too late."
Nuriel waited patiently before replying, leaving the pastor hanging in awkwardness. 'Considering he mentioned a piece of God, could it be some sort of religious artifact? Or was it really an actual piece of the Steel Witch?'
'The Scepter System reappearing and this artifact showing up, it can't be a coincidence. There's no doubt about that.'
To prevent the air from stagnating, Nuriel replied. "How come?"
"The church will hand it over to Owhen University soon, for study," the pastor said casually, despite the blasphemy in his words.
Noticing Nuriel's expression twist slightly, the pastor chuckled. "It's not as heretical as you'd think. Frankly, I'm just as curious as the scholars. When I first laid eyes on it, it looked no different than a weathered stone slab."
"Thank you for telling me," Nuriel offered a solemn nod before remembering a certain phrase. "May the Witch bless you."
The pastor mirrored the gesture. "May she bless your mind and soul."
Those two lines made Nuriel cringe inwardly as he struggled to maintain a straight face.
'So cheesy. Who thought of that?'