It was a fresh new day in the mountains at the sect of the Holy Priest.
It was a calm morning. Several people were painting and harvesting along the mountain, and many children played in their dedicated play areas while the nearby parents busied themselves with crafts or various sect activities, never leaving the little ones' side.
Suddenly, bells rang throughout every house in the sect. For a moment, time seemed to freeze; then, in an instant, dozens of people began to move in all directions. Those who were working on tasks like crafts or decorations abandoned their posts along with their tools and, together with others, headed home to leave their replacements.
This scene was the everyday life of the sect.
People woke one by one from early dawn to work for the sect's self-sufficiency, organizing themselves like ants as they went to their respective positions to perform their hive's work all day long—24 hours a day without fail.
Although the process sounded laborious and rather exclusionary, it was not as tyrannical as one might imagine. The help from the sorcerers in mundane fields made the work much more efficient than conventional methods.
They cultivated crops, fertilized the soil, and built as well as expanded structures—allowing the non-sorcerers to devote their talents to other natural activities. The results of their combined efforts were quite evident.
The sect had a particular work distribution system. They had been indoctrinated with the idea of helping according to each one's capabilities; everyone knew their own level—from something as basic as planting seeds to the stable construction of a house. If you weren't good in one area, you were reassigned to another to best use your talents. And if you were weak in a skill, the sect would teach you how to improve it so that if any task required capable hands, the most experienced would necessarily train the aspirants to ensure no shortage of manpower.
That is where replacements come into play: once a person reached a certain level of maturity in their work, their master could delegate the process to them with complete trust.
This system even applied between non-sorcerers and sorcerers. Although sorcerers never shared their knowledge with anyone, they were still encouraged to teach basic spells—primarily for the daily work—so that those who were essential pillars in the sect could get a chance to rest after their shifts without fear for their own safety or devaluation of their worth.
The sect was divided into four shifts throughout the day, each lasting six hours. When one shift ended, the other, who had been resting, replaced them—it was a simple cycle.
Each day began with the night shift being replaced by the early-morning group. Those who worked at night would sleep or have their free time until after 12 hours had passed and then resume duty; typically, they rested for six hours and had six hours of free time. It was rare for someone who woke in one cycle to end up in another.
This sect was quite unique compared to others that usually dedicated their time to elaborate rituals or hoarding power for political maneuvers against opposing sects to seize valuable resources.
This was the image of the sect of the Holy Priest Without Spells—a sect that, like its leader (who showed disinterest in helping those who sought him), imparted the same values to its members.
In the distance, three prominent figures were approaching the sect—one man and two women.
The guards at the entrance recognized one of the figures immediately and shouted at the top of their lungs for everyone to take notice:
– "Lady Secil is back with new companions!"
Everyone nearby left their posts to receive her, gathering around the entrance. She was courteously welcomed by all the members.
Secil walked among them with an indifferent gaze as, behind her, Rengar and Kayn followed. Only Kayn wore a look of curiosity and a gentle smile on his lips as he scanned the surroundings.
The sect members focused their attention on the new arrivals, warmly welcoming each one and even offering handmade decorative items they had created so the newcomers would feel part of the group.
Rengar greeted them silently, expressing gratitude with a small gesture, while Kayn did the same—smiling pleasantly, his tone filled with surprise and happiness.
"Miss Secil, I must say your sect is just as beautiful as the rumors and expectations we were told. It's so lovely with all those banners around—I never knew people could praise a snake as if it were divine."
Secil, still fixed on the path ahead with an unchanging gaze, replied:
"I'm glad you say that. We did not strive to the utmost these past days to please the visitors; our priest has truly shone these years."
Kayn then spoke in a much calmer tone:
"Now, regarding why we've come—we wish to meet the High Priest. If it isn't too much trouble, we have traveled all the way from the southern islands, having heard his famed anecdotes."
Secil frowned slightly.
"I recommend you take this visit calmly. Keep in mind you are strangers, and we must protect our priest from any external threat. Besides, it is not common for sorcerers from another continent to travel just to see our saint."
Rengar and Kayn both acknowledged her remark. Then, Rengar spoke with a firm tone:
"Very well, we will comply with the necessary protocols and wait as long as it takes—even if the priest is indisposed, we shall return in a few days."
Secil did not respond immediately; instead, she directed the two to a small cabin decorated with intricately detailed banners and modest but artful ornaments.
"Please, wait inside for a moment. I will consult with our priest about your visit to determine if he can see you now or if he is unavailable today."
Kayn bowed slightly.
"Of course; tell him to take his time."
After that, the door closed, leaving the pair alone in the room. They stood silently until Rengar took a deep breath and looked straight at Kayn, sending him a mental message about the situation.
"What do you think he's doing?"
Kayn remained silent for a moment as he evaluated the situation.
"We're in the middle of a ritual or test—they're evaluating us. Those very specific banners don't quite add up."
While walking around, Kayn picked up one of the sweets from the table and examined it carefully before trying to eat it.
"I suppose they use these means to evaluate a person. I imagine it is a complex ritual intended to sense the intentions of all who join the sect; otherwise, just moments ago, Secil would have simply summoned the saint upon our arrival. I can't believe she is so busy as to give just a yes or no."
Rengar looked at him indifferently, then his gaze shifted to the door.
"Then you won't be able to dismantle the spell quickly."
Kayn nodded.
"Nor could you try—even a sudden failure in a ritual would surely alert that witch."
Rengar raised an eyebrow.
"So, what do you propose? I don't think you want to force your way through with that woman in between."
Kayn only smiled maliciously at Rengar and shook his head.
"Not exactly, but we're not in dire straits either. We might try entering naturally to test our luck or even deceive that witch with my Path of Wisdom."
He pointed his finger at Rengar.
"It's as simple as playing along; I don't think it's necessary to literally lose your head over this. Eat one of these sweets so they can evaluate us, then we'll share details and act—but remember, the priority is to find that priest!"
After a brief mental exchange, the pair of travelers sat waiting for Secil's response to continue their journey. Fortunately, as Kayn had predicted, she maintained full control over her emotions, while Rengar was much more direct—which worked against him because it led Secil to remark that there was only room for one person with the priest.
Nonetheless, Kayn did not find the opportunity unfavorable. He sent a message after asking Secil if Rengar could interact with the sect members; when she responded positively, she sent him off to explore while she evaluated the priest.
Secil left him at the door of her chamber to immediately depart and oversee Rengar. Kayn let her go and then knocked on the priest's door to receive a positive response regarding his entry.
Kayn entered and looked slightly surprised upon seeing the saint—he was exactly as described. The saint extended his hand toward the futon in the middle of the room.
"Please, sit down and tell me the reason for your journey."
Kayn sat down, enthusiastic, and with a steady tone—barely concealing her emotion—she said with a slight smile:
"My name is Ciaphas Kayn, High Priest. I am an erudite of sorcery, and I come from the southern islands. Ever since rumors of your greatness reached me, I have done everything possible to reunite with a genius like you."
The saint then relaxed his posture, studying Kayn intently with a smile and a tone of curiosity.
"Interesting. Why don't you tell me a bit more?"
Kayn did not hesitate.
"Well… I have been searching for someone with your talent for a long time because, as ridiculous as it may sound, I need someone like you to help me grow and develop my interests—interests that are crucial not only for my future but for a greater cause."
The saint fell silent for a moment but then indicated that she could continue. Kayn pressed on with a cheerful tone:
"Before I go any further, I must confirm your miraculous ability to heal without uttering a single word. Could you please demonstrate it for me?"
The saint responded cheerfully, "Of course I can—what is it that you need? Do you require me to heal your wounds, alleviate your sorrows, cure an ailment, or perhaps prove that everything can come together under one banner?"
Kayn quickly reached inside her kimono, producing a small box which she opened to reveal a small, dying specimen that she extended toward the saint.
Without uttering a word, the saint approached the specimen, placed his hand on it, and, in an instant, the dying creature began to show signs of life.
"Are you satisfied, miss?" the saint asked naturally after a few seconds.
"All who visit me tend to question my ability or test my divinity, but I understand why. I expect nothing more than for you to visit my community. If you are interested in joining, speak with an elder near the exit, and they will assign you your duties."
Kayn shook her head.
"Forgive me, but I have no interest in joining the sect—in fact, I am who I am..."
"I insist—please, hurry and leave; I have many more people waiting to speak with me."
Kayn was abruptly interrupted. She tried to speak but was continually ordered out of the room. The saint even threatened to call Secil if she resisted, which happened very suddenly.
Resigned, she courteously bid farewell and left, then went to find Rengar, who was sitting eating some local fruit. Moments later, the two departed together, walking to the nearest village.
"Is this what we expected, Kayn?" Rengar asked indifferently as they walked, but Kayn did not answer immediately. Instead, she looked around to ensure no one was following her. Once she was sure, she exhaled in a slightly cold tone:
"Well, I must say, he is exactly as I thought—a master of the Soul Path. But I became overly excited in the end; his attitude isn't as polished as they described. He was rather curt and insistent about my departure or wandering around the sect."
Kayn paused and looked at Rengar.
"What about you? Did you notice anything in particular or not at all?"
Rengar sighed and shook his head.
"I couldn't really notice anything significant. I tried to venture beyond the sect, but I sensed that witch's presence with a rather murderous intent. I didn't want to test that woman's limits—her gaze is frightening."
Rengar took a breath and crossed his arms before continuing.
"But I'm pretty sure that this saint isn't truly a good person. If he were truly the master of the Soul Path, he should have founded a cult to devour all his followers' souls. Most likely, he's practicing assimilation like all the emissaries of darkness…"
Kayn fell silent for a moment, contemplating Rengar's words; she didn't think his reasoning was far-fetched. After all, they had traveled for many years all over the world, and the prediction that a sorcerer could manipulate and develop his soul by drawing on the strength of others was logical.
The abrupt attitude of the saint, the vigilant scrutiny of the surroundings with Rengar, the patterns decorating the cult area, and the surprisingly warm welcome extended even to strangers all suggested that, at the very least, the entire sect was being manipulated by the saint. Yet, Kayn felt that something didn't add up.
The soul…
Kayn paused, arching an eyebrow in disbelief.
"I am certainly not mistaken about your judgment, but there is an inconsistency in your argument…" she began, counting on her fingers as she spoke. "The emissaries of darkness are sorcerers who exert great pressure on the soul, and if the descriptions in the rumors—that there is a mystical presence around him—were true, anyone approaching him should feel that pressure. In fact, his demeanor seemed almost lifeless."
Rengar looked at her with mild surprise at her remark, but she continued: "It shouldn't be so easy not to feel his soul around me, even if he conceals his aura—unless he has a weak soul."
She paused and shook her head vigorously, frowning. "No, he cannot have a weak soul, or at least the nature of the Soul Path would not allow it. This saint, according to the rumors, has been active for more than eight years—as far as we know. If he is truly one of the emissaries of darkness, he should have cultivated an oppressive force over the souls of everyone who approaches him. And after all these years since his existence became known, it is illogical for him not to have abused his status as a saint to devour souls."
"Unless he is nothing more than a puppet."
Rengar interrupted with a comment and then continued neutrally, "That would explain many things—the attitude of his assistant toward us from the start and the pressure I felt when trying to leave the sect's area. His original body must be hidden somewhere in the mountains."
Kayn agreed.
"Of course. What I saw wasn't just an automated soul. Then we have no choice but to eliminate that bastard emissary. It's a pity he isn't a sorcerer outside the influence of the Mother of Darkness…"
"Maybe it will be just another lost soul—what a shame… but there's no time to lament. Let's go meet the master."
By midday, the sun was beginning to lower; the orange sky of the sunset would soon cover the sect, but it would remain until nightfall when that same orange hue would still dominate…