Chapter 170: Episode 170

They had passed through the Gate of Divinity, but the inspection wasn’t over. While the Gate could detect impure beings, forbidden items like drugs or banned books had to be checked by hand. Inspectors would soon be searching the wagons, but they already had an escape plan.

They felt the broker cover the wagon with a heavy blue cloth. He then tapped the side twice—the signal that the coast was clear. The cloth was designed to block the flow of mana, allowing them to activate the teleportation circle on the crate’s floor and escape undetected.

’All we need to do is get inside the Federation’s borders.’

The Holy Federation’s perimeter was shielded by white magic that blocked unauthorized teleportation. But once inside, they were free to move.

“Alright, get ready,” Lethe whispered.

They squeezed themselves onto the teleportation circle, a process that forced them into a tight, unavoidable embrace. Simon was mortified, but Lethe kept her expression carefully neutral as she placed a hand on the circle.

“It’s a random teleport within a certain radius of our destination,” she explained.

“If we’re unlucky, we could end up in a lake or the middle of a monastery. Ready?”

“Huh? Oh. Ready.”

She muttered, “Here we go,” and activated the magic.

’Vwooom!’

Simon’s body lifted as the world dissolved around him.

’Ugh!’ He was hurtling through an abstract space of smeared, chaotic colors, the sense of speed overwhelming. It felt like being shot through a narrow pipe. He found himself desperately missing the expertly handled teleportation at Kizen. The world spun, and a wave of violent nausea washed over him. Just as he thought he couldn’t take another second…

’Whoooooosh!’

The lurching stopped. He could feel solid ground beneath him. He pressed a hand to his forehead, taking a moment to steady himself before slowly looking around.

He was surrounded by a sea of gold under a cloudless blue sky. They had landed in the middle of a wheat field.

“Oh, Goddess,” a voice groaned from beneath him.

“Grant me the patience not to murder him while I pay for my sins, and give me the forbearance not to bathe in his blood.”

He looked down to see that he was pinning Lethe to the ground. Horrified, he scrambled off her with a quick apology.

“Just now,” she said coldly, pushing herself up, “you died five hundred times in my head, each in a uniquely gruesome way. You should thank the Goddess for granting me patience.”

“It couldn’t be helped! We teleported while we were hugging!”

“Shut your mouth.”

They slowly got to their feet. The wheat was astonishingly tall, reaching well past Simon’s shoulders. He could just see over the top, while only the crown of Lethe’s head was visible.

“Must be grown with Divine Farming,” she said, dusting off her clothes with particular focus on the spots where he had touched her.

“Divine Farming?”

“Yes. Before planting, a priest performs a service and infuses the ground with Divinity. It makes the crops grow exceptionally well. A blessing from the Goddess.”

“They have all sorts of things here.”

She crossed her arms with a superior smile.

“All sorts of things? It’s more than that. It changes the yield of the crops that are the very foundation of the nation. What does the Dark Alliance do?”

“Uh… we spread manure to enrich the soil, let fields lie fallow, and sometimes my father buys fertilizer in the city.”

Lethe clicked her tongue in disapproval.

“Spreading smelly dung on the fields is barbaric. How is that any different from putting what we excrete back into our own mouths?”

“No, that’s not how it works at all. You don’t know what fertilizer is…”

“Anyway! I’ll be demonstrating the superiority of the Holy Federation often, so be prepared.”

She spun on her heel and strode off through the wheat. Being back on home turf seemed to have lifted her spirits.

“Wheat thieves!”

Her good mood lasted all of two minutes. A shout rang out, and suddenly, farmers brandishing not weapons but farming tools began closing in from all sides, their expressions murderous.

“We were wondering when you’d show up! You’re finally here!”

“Everyone, out here now!”

The atmosphere shifted from peaceful to perilous. Lethe grabbed Simon’s sleeve.

“What are you just standing there for? Run!”

A chase erupted. Farmers swarmed into the field, the tall stalks parting before them as they advanced with their sharp implements. They looked ready to start swinging without a word, so fleeing was the only option. Simon and Lethe sprinted frantically through the golden maze and ducked into a small, nearby shed filled with tools and haystacks.

The moment Lethe bolted the door, it shuddered under heavy blows.

’Bang! Bang!’

“They’re in here!”

“Open the door! Are you going to open it or not?”

The hinges groaned, threatening to tear loose. Simon threw his weight against the door.

“Now what?”

“I can’t tell them we teleported here,” Lethe said, already pulling her Efnel uniform from her bag.

“No need to reveal our movements.”

She kicked off her shoes and began pulling on her stockings.

“It’ll take five minutes to change. Hold them off.”

“Five minutes? Make it two! Forget the stockings, just get the clothes on!”

“I know, I know! Now turn your eyes away, you pervert! Let me get dressed!”

The small windows on either side shattered as rakes and pitchforks stabbed into the shed, sweeping blindly through the air. Simon crouched to avoid being skewered.

A shovel blade punched through the wood right above his head with a crack. Terrified, Simon slapped his left hand against the door and drew a magic circle.

’Shield of Protection.’

A wall of pure white Divinity materialized, reinforcing the door just as it splintered under the farmers’ assault. Now they began hammering directly on his shield.

“Lethe! Hurry!” Simon yelled, bracing his back against the glowing barrier.

“If you so much as sneak a peek, I’ll kill you and ascend to heaven.”

“I’m not looking!”

Finally, having buttoned her top, she drew a magic circle in the air and snapped her fingers.

’WHOOOOOSH!’

“Ugh!”

A brilliant light erupted, engulfing them both. It blew the shed to pieces and scattered in every direction.

“Gah!”

“What in the…!”

The farmers recoiled, terrified by the immense wave of Divinity. When the light faded, they saw a boy collapsed on the ground and, standing amid the wreckage, a girl in a pristine white uniform. Lethe untied the ribbon in her hair, and her pure white locks cascaded down, fluttering in the wind. The farmers’ eyes went wide.

That was unmistakably an Efnel uniform, woven from consecrated cloth.

“Still,” Lethe’s icy voice cut through the silence, “do you not understand the situation?”

’Clang! Thud!’

As one, the farmers dropped their tools and fell to their knees, prostrating themselves on the ground.

“We greet the Priestess of Efnel!” they cried in unison.

Simon was dumbfounded by the instantaneous shift in atmosphere. Lethe, however, seemed perfectly accustomed to it. She snorted, looking down at the groveling men.

“I descended to admire the beautiful wheat bestowed by the great Goddess, yet you threaten my life by brandishing blades. Are you prepared to die?”

“We have committed a mortal sin!” they wailed, pressing their foreheads to the dirt.

Seeing them tremble in absolute terror, Simon blinked.

’So this is the Holy Federation, with its rigid class system.’

“If, as you say, you have committed a mortal sin, then you must be punished,” Lethe declared, spreading her fingers with a cold glint in her eyes.

“All of you…”

“Priestess.”

At that moment, Simon rose to his feet and bowed his head with a solemn expression. He made the sign of the cross with a fluid, practiced motion that was utterly convincing. Clasping his palms together, he spoke.

“The sin of these believers in failing to recognize you is great. However, I beg you to take pity on the fact that they were consumed with catching the thieves who damaged this field. I ask that you grant them absolution.”

The terrified farmers looked up at Simon, their eyes wide with disbelief. They clearly hadn’t expected anyone to speak on their behalf. Lethe’s expression was one of pure incredulity.

“Absolution? A few days in my company, and you’ve already forgotten your place. Is an acolyte daring to question a priestess’s decision?”

“This magnificent golden wheat, which you yourself descended to admire, is a recipient of the Goddess’s grace,” Simon argued smoothly.

“Protecting it is one of the farmers’ sacred duties. In their zeal to protect the Goddess’s blessing, they made a mistake, but it was an act born of pure faith. I implore you to see the piety in their error and lessen their sin.”

’Wow, this bastard.’

Lethe hid a smirk.

’When did he get such a silver tongue?’

She had fully intended to punish the farmers for threatening her. But Simon had framed it perfectly: it was a mistake made while performing a duty to the Goddess, so a priestess who serves the Goddess should forgive them. When weighing the Goddess’s will against a priestess’s personal safety, the Goddess always came first. Moreover, he had taken the information about Divine Farming she had just given him and woven it into his argument so seamlessly that no one would ever suspect he wasn’t a local. His quick thinking was, she had to admit, commendable.

“You have a point,” she conceded.

“Raise your heads.”

Lethe announced she would make an exception, just this once. As the farmers bowed and scraped in gratitude, Simon was struck anew by the immense power that Priests—and Efnel—wielded in the Holy Federation. Their destination was still some distance away, but the farmers immediately offered to prepare a carriage.

While they waited, a feast was laid out before them.

’This feels like being back home.’

They were only staying for thirty minutes, but the farmers kept bringing more food, making it awkward. Simon felt self-conscious about the free meal, but Lethe began to eat as if it were her due.

“Don’t hold back. Eat,” she said.

“It’s customary to serve food to visiting acolytes and priests. There’s even a saying that if you don’t feed an acolyte undergoing the nineteen Penances until they’re full, the Goddess’s curse will fall upon your house.”

“What a strange custom.”

“Besides, it’s not exactly free. I’ll be paying the price later. So eat up.”

He had to admit, refusing the food they had so earnestly prepared would have been rude.

Simon took a bite of the wheat noodles, a specialty of the Holy Federation. “This is delicious!”

“Hmph, of course it is,” Lethe sniffed. Compared to the hearty fare of the Dark Alliance, the seasoning was light, almost bland, but it was surprisingly pleasant. After a short while, Lethe excused herself and went over to the farmers. She sprinkled Divinity over the fields they were preparing before returning, leaving the farmers bowing their heads in gratitude as if a goddess herself had descended upon them. She trudged back to her seat beside Simon and resumed eating her noodles. “It must be nice being a priest,” Simon mused. “You never have to worry about going hungry.”

“If you’re so bitter about it, why don’t you become one?” Lethe shot back, a sly grin touching her lips. “By the way, have you ever ridden a train?”

“A train?”

—

’WHOOOOSH!’

As soon as their carriage reached the city, they headed straight for the station. Simon, who had been a country boy even in the Dark Alliance, felt his eyes might pop out of their sockets. “Wh-What is that?”

A massive iron beast on wheels, spewing white, Divinity-infused steam, was thundering toward the station. The tracks were laid on the ground, but some sections were even suspended impossibly in mid-air. ’CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!’

It seemed this was not a scheduled stop for that particular train. It roared right through the station, and Simon watched its retreating form with wide, unblinking eyes. “Five days.”

Lethe placed her hands on her hips, a triumphant smile on her face. “We’ll be taking this Divine Train across the entire Holy Federation. It’s crawling with Heretic Inquisitors, so you’d better be ready.”

“…Haha.”

Even Simon had to admit this was shaping up to be one dynamic summer vacation.

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