Chapter Forty-Three: The Temple

After this exchange, Zhao Xu gained a rough understanding of Lei An’s irreverent way of speaking.

“And besides, you don’t actually think you could have struck Antinoia just now, do you?” Lei An said.

Zhao Xu shook his head; he knew his own limits well enough. The way Lei An spoke made it clear to even the most foolish that something wasn’t right.

Antinoia should be able to cast the “Rainbow Sphere” spell herself, which would have easily blocked his attack.

“Good, you’re not like me. I used to think I’d really landed a hit on my mentor, and I was happy about it for ages.” Lei An fell into a nostalgic mood.

Zhao Xu suddenly felt awkward—this sounded suspiciously like a certain anime’s bell-stealing plot device.

“In truth, you wouldn’t be able to cast any spells in front of Antinoia. We mages can ‘counterspell,’ maintaining absolute dominance over rookies like you. But that’s beside the point; you’ll learn more when you start ‘spell recognition’ training.”

Next, Lei An took him and teleported directly to Mystra below.

It was Zhao Xu’s first time in half a month setting foot again on the real land of Arthur.

He breathed in the air of the surface, savoring its unique taste.

The Temple of the Goddess of Magic and the headquarters of the Church, the Sacred Heart Cathedral, stood side by side.

The temple was expanded from the goddess’s residence before her ascension.

The Sacred Heart Cathedral was built closely adjacent; daily church affairs took place in the inner hall, while the outer hall was reserved for worship and prayer.

The Mage Association’s headquarters and many research institutions were located in the floating city above.

Thus, the temple and cathedral occupied a vast area within the city.

In fact, Mystra itself was expanded outward from this center, radiating in star-like patterns.

As the heart of faith for believers, the outer hall of the Sacred Heart Cathedral was always thronged with people.

Zhao Xu had experienced this firsthand on his first visit.

Returning now, he found the crowds so dense it was impossible to squeeze through.

Normally, one would expect the crowd to be thickest near the inner sanctum, but even the outermost edges were packed.

“Today is the goddess’s birthday—the Day of Divine Birth,” Lei An explained.

Hearing this, Zhao Xu nodded in understanding.

In his previous life, his family lived in the frigid north, where most residents worshipped gods of justice and war.

On the Day of Divine Birth, local churches would bless their congregations.

The most coveted gift was the holy water, which normally cost 25 gold pieces; on this day, it was given out freely, making it a fiercely contested prize.

Living now in the prosperous south, Mystra’s citizens were akin to residents of a capital city on Earth.

If not superior, their standard of living was certainly among the highest in Arthur.

Looking closely at the crowd, many wore refined clothing—none appeared destitute.

Even further down the road, carriages were restricted from entering.

“The goddess may descend her will upon Arthur’s main plane today,” Lei An explained. “So today, there’s a real chance of being blessed and officially becoming a priest.”

Zhao Xu felt his heart stir at these words.

Although he was ninety-nine percent sure of becoming a level one priest, to fill that last one percent gap, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity.

Priests in Arthur followed two main paths.

The first was being groomed from childhood as a priest-candidate, studying doctrine in the local church and undergoing basic vocational training.

Then, they waited.

When the deity recognized their devotion, they would leap directly from apprentice to full-fledged level one priest.

If the path of mage apprentices was difficult at first and easier later, then for apprentice priests it was the opposite: easy early, difficult later.

At the mage awakening ceremony Zhao Xu attended, most participants succeeded.

But for apprentice priests, there was a long queue of senior candidates waiting for their devotion to be acknowledged.

The number of priests a god could grant was limited; otherwise, everyone could become a priest, making their faith the continent’s most dominant force.

The second path was to win the deity’s favor and be chosen directly as a priest.

Such candidates merely went through the motions at church, receiving some training.

Hence, Zhao Xu was confident he could complete priest training within a week.

Reflecting on this, Zhao Xu felt a surge of emotion.

His wife in his previous life was also from Earth.

After crossing over, she was noticed by Bella, the high priestess of the local goddess of fortune, and accepted as an apprentice priest.

Yet, despite two years of effort, she never became a formal priest.

Meanwhile, among the Earth-born transmigrants, those who had risen to the top were entering the marriage phase.

Zhao Xu served as a town constable for those two years, earning a solid reputation, and his character was well known.

With her prospects stalled, his wife’s parents arranged the marriage, and they wed and had children.

Had they remained on Earth, without the crossing, her aristocratic family background would have been far beyond his social reach.

He didn’t even have a way to notify her now.

But someday, he vowed, the poets of Arthur would sing his name.

“Brother Lei An, why don’t we just teleport inside?” Zhao Xu asked, noticing Lei An calmly waiting in line.

“The president always enters through the main gate,” Lei An replied, a bit irritated. “Once you’re a priest, you can fly in directly, but I can’t.”

“You’re not a priest, Brother Lei An?”

“Of course not. Anyone in the association can moonlight as a priest, except me, the liaison officer. Otherwise, I’d be liaison for both the association and the goddess’s church.”

Zhao Xu realized he’d underestimated the situation.

Though he’d climbed the ranks in his previous life, he was never at the level where even a random lord could crush him.

“But surely a liaison officer doesn’t have to queue like an ordinary person,” Zhao Xu said.

Strictly speaking, Lei An’s position was ambassador-level on Earth. If not privileges, basic protocol should apply.

“I notified them when I arrived, but who knew the church would have issues today? Normally, I’d just walk straight in or clear the crowd with a spell, but on the Day of Divine Birth, I wouldn’t dare.”

Suddenly, a middle-aged priest in white robes emerged.

The surrounding believers parted respectfully, creating a path.

The once packed entrance to the cathedral now opened into a three-person-wide corridor.

“Mr. Lei An, apologies for keeping you waiting,” the priest said with a slight bow.

“Never mind, let’s hurry. It’s this kid who’s here to take up the priesthood,” Lei An said carelessly, tugging Zhao Xu’s robe as he moved forward.

Zhao Xu, wearing a cloak similar to Antinoia’s, had his entire head shrouded in shadow, shielding him from curious gazes.

The priest glanced at Zhao Xu, nodded, and said, “Please follow me inside.”

The middle-aged priest led the way, and Zhao Xu hurried after—no telling if they’d get swept up in the crowd if they dawdled.

The outer walls of the Sacred Heart Cathedral were adorned with reliefs depicting the goddess’s miracles.

The threshold was not a standard stone step but a half-arched pillar, as if half-buried in the earth.

After the two ahead crossed, Zhao Xu followed.

Suddenly, his mind felt numb.

From the temple behind the cathedral, melodious chimes rang out.

Wave after wave.

“Praise the goddess,” the middle-aged priest quickly bowed his head in silent prayer.

Countless others followed suit, some even kneeling on the spot.

“The goddess has descended,” Lei An whispered.

Zhao Xu was bewildered; in his mind, it seemed new slots for divine spells had appeared.