Aside from being bigger than the temple of the W?hppr faith in Wexlow, the Keysbrügr Faith's temple was also very easily ten times more opulent, with several giant statues, depicting a six-winged angel, similar to the one I’d seen in illustrations and back then in the Keysbrügr Faith's temple. They were statues of their worshiped Seraphim. They all.

  Despite the opulence which might lead one to think that the security would be tighter, unlike how it was in Wexlow, I had no difficulty entering, as a huge portion of the large temple was the equivalent of hospital grounds and worship grounds. You could pretty much go in and out as you wished as long as you didn't go where you shouldn't be.

  The interior was equally lavishly decorated as the outside, with large corridors lined with statues. Most of the statues had the same faces and poses, almost as if they'd been replicated, so much so that I could imagine some magic was involved in their creation.

  In the corridor I was currently walking through, I used my Identification skill to find someone in possession of the artifact I was looking for, but found none thus far.

  There were two kinds of people here. First, there were the people who, as horrible as it was to say, didn't look like they belonged very much to such an opulent place. The peons that they obviously were, went in and out, for they had either received healing from the temple or came to do so. They made up almost the entirety of the crowd in the temple grounds.

  The other group, dressed in much tidier clothes, no, it was more of a uniform, that made it eminently clear that they were the temple disciples. They made up a small minority of the people on the temple grounds, mostly moving in groups, chatting as they seemingly made their way out of the inner temple.

  It was them that I was focusing most of my attention on, leisurely visiting the place at my own pace, sticking to the side of the corridor where the line of angel statues stood. There were only two variations of the statues.

  On my right was the statue of a female angel, making a motion with her right hand that invited one to go deeper within. On the left was a male angel, who like the other had his right arms extended in a welcoming motion. Their adjacent positioning made it seem as if the male angel was gently gesturing people out while the female gestured people in.

  As I arrived at a corner where ahead I saw no more statues but pillars, I stopped a moment to look at the statue beside me.

  I was a faithful believer but not of this faith. I believed in something much bigger, much stronger, way beyond me, way beyond this faith that strangely and very paradoxically I was much more familiar with. The female statue before me, just like the one before, was that of an Archangel, the Seraphim of Selflessness's archangel. Archangels are to the Seraphims what kings are to the emperor, they were kings among angels, closest to the deity they served.

  Staring at the statue, I couldn't help but wonder, like a daydreaming child would, if one day I would be able to take down one of these because I really wanted to. Kings, Archangel, Emperor, Seraphim, I wanted to be able to take them all down.

  Welp, that was a thought that most would consider blasphemous, but to me, meh, I couldn't see myself believing in this. Even pretending to, I would struggle to, as there is only one and only that has my devotion, not this. I snorted in contempt before being rudely interrupted. Without a warning or anything I was once again assaulted by a sensation that made me see red. That uncomfortable sensation that envelops you whole, one that defiles you from every possible direction.

  "That bastard!" In the instantaneous rage I felt, the immediate culprit my mind could think of was that damn elf. Turning to my right, which was toward the entrance, I searched for the bastard but saw no sign of him or anyone particularly staring at me.

  The thing about appraisal and identification is that they are meant to go together, complementary in their functions. However when apart it might look like they are the complete opposite of one another. While my identification skill doesn't require me to have anyone in my line of sight to do its thing, it just requires that the skill or ability is cast within a zone around me, which, at my current level, extends over 100 meters. To avoid being spammed by healing-related skills commonly cast in the temple, I had turned that aspect of my skill off, for I naively didn't expect to be assaulted in this place.

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  My eyes quickly darted around to find the culprit. I knew for a fact that appraisal required direct visual contact to work, so the one who did it had to be somewhere nearby. It took me less than three seconds to find them.

  First, the attack didn't come from my right toward the entrance but from the opposite direction. Second, it wasn't the initial culprit I assumed it would be. Frankly, there would be no forgiveness if it were still him. He should’ve been grateful enough that I did not assault him right away for what he did. I might sound like I’m exaggerating, but I genuinely am not. I have lived many lives, died several deaths, and burned in "hell."

  While the sensation appraisal induces doesn't top what being in hell feels like, it easily takes second place on my list of least favorite sensations. It's defiling to a completely different level. There is no getting used to it; it's just as defiling as it was the first time, if not worse. So yes, I felt it was fair for me to respond the way I wanted to respond, by violence.

  Now, the thing about my assailant... how to describe them.. He stood dozens of meters away from me at the base of the male archangel statue. It was a boy, or perhaps a young man was the right way to describe him. He looked about 13 or 14, donning the same dress as most disciples of the temple. He had golden hair and hazel eyes, blue eyes that from how they trembled told me as our gaze met and locked that he was the one who did it.

  While the appraisal skill effect had disappeared without me noticing exactly when, I still stood staring at my assailant, who seemed to be frozen, stuck in place, staring back at me. It was then, as we were locked in a stalemate, both seemingly awaiting one another's next move, that his fellow apprentices, who had walked ahead by now a half dozen meters, noticed his immobility and turned around.

  "Micah?" one of them called out. "You alright?"

  They approached him. As they did, he, as if snapping out of a trance, finally stopped locking eyes with me. He blinked rapidly and shook his head as if to clear it.

  "I'm fine," Micah muttered, his voice barely audible from where I stood, but I saw him cast a quick, anxious glance my way before instantly retracting it. He immediately announced, "Let's go," darting discourteously past them and making his way out. The group, a little confused, exchanged puzzled glances before pressing no further and rushing to follow him.

  I watched them go, my irritation still simmering but under control. While I admit that having gotten my second dose of the day and felt like unrestraining myself, I still understood that this was the worst place to do that. I took a deep breath, cast a glance at the statue beside me, and unleashed a tsk despite myself before muttering, "Let's get this done with and get the hell out of this place."

  After that uncomfortable interaction, a strange omen began to settle in my gut, one that made me feel it wasn't a good idea to stay in this temple long—no, thinking back, it's this whole city I shouldn't stay long in. With my mind set, I continued down the corridor to find what I came here for.

  ***

  After about 30 minutes in the temple searching for the Artifact of my dreams, I eventually came upon one, a talisman with imprinted abilities, "Rejuvenate" and "Detoxify." "Rejuvenate" can recover a maximum of 100 HP, making it useful for quick healing in a pinch. "Detoxify" removes poisons and toxins from the body, which is invaluable in dangerous situations. Though the benefits provided by the artifact were nothing compared to what the old elf's gourd offered, I had no other option and wanted to be done with this place. I was left with no other choice but to take the talisman.

  After haggling with the owner of the talisman, well, haggling might be an overstatement, as I only decrease his price by 10 ? before called it quits, having no time to waste here. I left the temple grounds and made my way directly to my hotel to retrieve money to pay both the talisman owner and the old elf for the price of his gourd.

  Those transactions settled, I made my way back to the hotel without any detours. Despite the urge to leave immediately, I decided to spend the night in my suite, which I'd reserved for at least four days.

  In the end, I was only able to spend half of it there. The next morning, I left the glorious city of Auroravia on the back of Veilleuse-02. As I glanced at the horse, I realized this was the third one I'd been forced to change since the beginning of my journey. I reckoned that at some point, just like I did to acquire an artifact with healing power, I should consider finding another type of steed other than a mere and very much mortal horse. Pondering what kind of steed it would be, my mind pictured either an undead steed or an elemental one. I was completely clueless about how I would acquire that, but I was hopeful.

  Not to boast, but the journey so far felt rather smooth if we, of course, forget the rough passage through the "Pass" and the dead horses.

  But hey, I'm still alive, and I'm level 18.

  I still had two kingdoms, Waldow Kingdom and the Eldoria Kingdom, to cross before reaching the city of Miriandelle, that is of course if I optimistically didn’t include the Wiedenfeld Kingdom, which I'd argue I’d already crossed half the length of. But even then, I still had over 200 days to get there. I can do this. Unlike any of my past incarnations except perhaps the first one, I felt the conviction that I would be able to pull this off.

  And I did.

  After exactly 231 days, several dozen bandit camps raided, hundreds of monsters slaughtered, and two horses renamed, one of which was eaten by a damn griffin, I finally made it. Riding Veilleuse-04, I saw a sight that brought a smile to my face. There, on the horizon, standing along the shore of the sea separating the Land of Men in two, was the coastal city of Miriandelle—our destination.