The interior of the Sanctuary of Fate in Janusopolis was far vaster and more profound than one could imagine from gazing down from the mountain peak.
Massive white stone pillars supported the towering dome, painted with indistinct ancient star charts and the majestic figures of the Titans.
Sunlight streamed through the long, narrow stained-glass windows high above, casting patterns on the cold, smooth floor.
In the reception hall, the two stood before a young priest dressed in a plain white robe trimmed with gold. The robe was slightly oversized, making his frame seem somewhat slender.
He wore a stereotypical, gentle smile, but his eyes betrayed a nature identical to Phaethon's – that of a slacker.
"Miss Cyrene," the young priest's voice sounded somewhat abrupt in the empty hall. "Congratulations on passing the preliminary spiritual resonance test. Your talent... well, is very pure, with a natural affinity for the whispers of Oronyx. According to procedure, you are qualified to become an initiate priestess of the Sanctuary. Someone will take you to collect your initiate robes and relevant documentation shortly."
He paused, turning to Phaethon, his smile gaining a touch of formal apology. "As for you, Mr. Phaethon, I'm sorry. We conducted detailed tests, including spiritual perception, affinity with Law, insight into the threads of Fate... Regrettably, we did not discover the requisite innate qualities for you to become a priest of the Fate Titans. The identity of a priest, I'm afraid, is not in your destiny."
*Expected.* Phaethon felt no ripples in his heart, even feeling a bit like laughing. As a transmigrator, it would be strange if he could fit in with this Sanctuary serving deities and delving into law and fate. Becoming a priest was never his goal here.
Seeing neither of them react, the young priest coughed lightly, urging them tactfully. "Well then... why are you still standing here? Aren't you leaving?" His subtext was clear: both of you can go now.
"Huh? Aren't you going to take Cyrene deeper into the Sanctuary, uh... like, to serve the Titans or something? A ceremony? An oath?" Phaethon was confused. This wasn't what he had expected. Were they being kicked out right after arriving?
"Ha?" The young priest was taken aback by the question, his stereotypical smile freezing. "Aren't you here to Janusopolis just to get a priestess certificate, then go to another city-state to land a respectable, nominal priestess position?"
Cyrene frowned slightly, stepping forward, her voice clear and firm. "Your Reverence, I came here, braving hardships, precisely to serve the Fate Titans, especially to listen to the voice of Oronyx. I am not here for some certificate or nominal position." Her pink hair seemed to shimmer with a faint light under the stained-glass window, her expression solemn.
"Wait, you mean..." The young priest, Jacob, his eyes widening slightly, his expression becoming quite spectacular—a mix of surprise, a trace of imperceptible delight, but more of an... indescribable relief? He subconsciously lowered his voice and leaned forward slightly.
"This young lady sincerely wants to become a core priestess serving the Titans? To stay deep within the Sanctuary, listening to those... uh, ramblings, and abide by all the ascetic rules, the kind that never leaves?" Jacob's voice dropped even lower, carrying a sense of urgent confirmation.
"Precisely so." Cyrene nodded.
Jacob's serious expression instantly collapsed, the slight delight replaced by a bit of worry and guilt. He rubbed his hands together, nervously glanced around to confirm no one else was nearby, then spoke rapidly in a voice almost like a whisper:
"Oh dear... my young lady! What... what's in it for you! To be perfectly frank with you," he said with a pained expression, "the path of a Fate Sanctuary priest isn't a good one these days! Among the Three Titans enshrined in Janusopolis, 'Gateways' and 'Law', the traces of their existence and their responses vanished hundreds of years ago! Nowadays, the only one the priests can barely communicate with is Lord Oronyx..."
He sighed, his tone filled with the helplessness of someone who's been through it. "But the old one... mutters and grumbles all day, saying things nobody can understand or make sense of—fragments of prophecy, echoes of history, whispers of possibilities... Hardly anyone in the Sanctuary truly understands what he is saying anymore, let alone gaining clear guidance from it. One session of communication, and your head aches for three days! And these core priests have so many restrictions—ascetic practices, numerous rules, limited movement, stipends exist, but they're pitifully small... Compared to that, being a nominal priest in one of those prosperous city-states below is leisurely, respectable, with good pay... those in the know, know!"
"Although my teacher always tells me to recruit more... ahem, to attract more talented young people to bolster the Sanctuary, seeing you so young, I really can't bear to watch you walk down this endless 'road of no return' like I did..." Jacob's face was etched with the sincere advice: "Run! It's not too late to run now!"
"JACOB—!"
A voice, aged yet robust and resonant as a great bell, suddenly thundered from the shadowy corridor at the far end of the hall, carrying a fury like thunder, rumbling through the empty stone sanctuary.
"Your blasphemous, newcomer-seducing nonsense, I heard it clearly three corridors away! Do you want your 'Doctrine Transcribing' penance to last until next year?!"
Following the roar, a figure strode out swiftly from the shadows as if carrying a storm. It was an old man, tall and broad-shouldered, with white hair and beard, also wearing a white robe with gold trim, but his robe was starched stiff, the golden embroidery complex and imposing.
His face was carved with rigid, stern features, now slightly flushed with anger, his sharp eyes fixed like a hawk's on Jacob, who had instantly frozen into a statue.
"T-T-Teacher?!" Jacob's face turned ashen, his body shrinking involuntarily. "I... I didn't mean it like that! I meant... the path of the Sanctuary requires firm will and... and..."
"Silence!" The old man—High Priest Vittorio, one of the three current de facto leaders of the Sanctuary—had approached. His authoritative gaze swept over the trembling Jacob before finally settling on Cyrene and Phaethon. But upon seeing Cyrene, he immediately switched to a smiling face.
(Phaethon: *Gah! Changing faces without losing points? A hidden master!*)
"Young lady, don't listen to that fool Jacob's nonsense. The treatment for our Sanctuary priests might not be considered great, but it is absolutely respected. Who in this city-state wouldn't greet us with respect?"
"So for a young lady like you, possessing such rare, pure spirituality, and actively wishing to serve Oronyx... I'll make the decision. Initiate priestess directly promoted to full priestess. And your treatment will always be half a rank higher than your position. How does that sound?"
Jacob opened his mouth to say something, but was glared back into silence by Vittorio.
Cyrene and Phaethon exchanged a glance, a bit speechless. Was this Sanctuary some kind of slapdash operation? Instant promotion? Arbitrary raises? Why did it feel so... casual?
"High Priest." Cyrene bowed slightly, her posture graceful and composed. "I am Cyrene, from Aedes Elysiae. This is Phaethon, my companion. We have been through much together to reach here. As for joining the Sanctuary, I am naturally willing. However, I have heard that to reside in Janusopolis..."
"Of course... of course... finding accommodation for a companion, a perfectly reasonable request. Rest assured, even initiate priestesses have the right to reside in Janusopolis." Vittorio stroked his chin.
"Jacob! Go find the personnel in charge of this. Tell them it's the High Priest's order to register a standard city-state residence for this gentleman. Remember, even if it's a standard one, pick the best location! Hear me?"
"But Teacher, the other High Priests..."
"JACOB!"
"Yes! I'll go right away."
"Miss Cyrene, follow me. From today on, you are a priestess under my charge... If you have any questions, just ask that rascal Jacob." Vittorio left with a triumphant smile.