Chapter Fifty-One: Divine Favor

When Lei An heard this, he nearly lost focus, suspecting that his spell had malfunctioned and connected to someone else by mistake. Even with the spell active, he glanced around, confirming that only the two of them occupied the space. Hastily, he resumed the mental link spell and said, “You’re really going too far.”

This time, even the ever-calm Zhao Xu felt Lei An’s unusual performance and explained, “It’s luck.”

“Luck? This is divine favor. Maybe I should file a report and have you promoted directly to priest. Who needs a scroll scholar? It sounds impressive, ‘invincible divine magic,’ but in truth, it’s just endless copying of scrolls. None of it compares to how you’re favored by the goddess—so effortless, so comfortable, just at your fingertips.”

“You know all these things I’ve brought are meant to accelerate your awakening to the domain. None of them are easily lent out. For example, this magic notebook personally written by the goddess is only circulated privately among the most powerful. If the goddess, being the third generation, hadn’t refrained from descending as the first two did, I’d almost suspect you’re the goddess’s—”

Lei An had barely finished when he felt his hair stand on end. He immediately adopted a humble, apologetic posture, muttering, “Goddess above, I spoke out of turn. I’ll donate a pen and penance money later, I’m sorry, truly sorry.”

He had good reason to fear. Zhao Xu had just received divine favor and directly attained a domain; who knew if the goddess’s gaze still lingered on him. His mental link spell, in the presence of the goddess of magic’s power, was no different than shouting through a megaphone.

In the era of the second-generation goddess of magic, wizards relied on the magic web to cast their spells. The goddess could sever the connection at will, leaving wizards unable to access their spell slots. Only when the third-generation goddess ascended did she dissolve the web, turning it into a natural attribute across all planes. Wizards no longer faced the risk of losing their connection. This was why the third-generation goddess earned the respect of countless wizards; few other deities would willingly relinquish such a tool for controlling their followers.

Zhao Xu looked at Lei An with exasperation. Lei An’s habit of speaking carelessly even at church headquarters, and surviving so long, was thanks to the strength of the wizard profession.

“So, Master Lei An, where do we go next?” Zhao Xu asked.

“Hmm, did you prepare your divine spells?” Lei An stroked his chin, feigning deep thought.

Zhao Xu nodded. “I succeeded yesterday.”

“You’re pretty clever, timing your preparations with evening prayers. Come on, I’ll take you to meet an archbishop.”

Zhao Xu didn’t elaborate that he had actually finished preparing his spells at noon the day before. He hurried to catch up with Lei An, asking, “Archbishop?”

He hadn’t expected to cross paths with someone of such high rank.

“To teach you spontaneous casting. This archbishop mastered it in less than three hours. With this skill, any prepared divine spell can be converted to a healing spell.”

“That’s how priests are able to fill the healer role. Otherwise, we’d be stuck like wizards, endlessly preparing scrolls—it’s exhausting. But with spontaneous casting, it’s much easier.” Lei An stopped, sensing Zhao Xu had halted behind him. Turning back, a suspicion rose in his mind.

“Don’t tell me you’ve already mastered spontaneous casting?”

Zhao Xu nodded.

“I… You still dare say you’re not…” Lei An thought better of voicing his complaint. The scrolls he relied on ultimately looked up to the goddess; he had no intention of betraying her.

“A shame, really. You’re the secret heir of the scroll scholar path we’ve chosen, and the future of the dual mastery route rests with you. If you become a priest, you might really rise to church leadership.”

Zhao Xu considered keeping secret what he’d seen on the Arcane Throne—that vision of the goddess—until Antinoia gave her approval. He decided not to mention it.

“So, where are we heading now?” Zhao Xu shifted the topic.

“Where else? Let’s go find Archbishop Sos. He was promoted just yesterday—he’s upper management now. The day after tomorrow, he’ll take charge of the Luminous Chapel in the northern church district. He’ll teach you other skills, give you a private lesson, so you don’t scare the regular class.”

Hearing the name Sos, Zhao Xu paused for a moment, then continued walking. He knew the man. Archbishop Sos was about to take office in Winter City—the very place Zhao Xu had spent his previous life.

In his past life, this archbishop performed outstandingly in the Demon-Sealing Campaign, becoming the youngest cardinal at the time, overseeing all goddess church affairs in the Northern Alliance region.

Someone so exalted, to whom Zhao Xu, as a mere town sheriff, had to bow with respect, was now coming, at Lei An’s request, to teach him as a novice priest.

The reversal of roles struck Zhao Xu as absurd. Some chase a lifetime for what others are born with.

In his previous life, he’d struggled to even approach the church’s top leaders. Now, he could meet them with a simple arrangement.

Back then, the most his classmates could achieve was casting “Raise Dead,” a fifth-level resurrection spell requiring an intact corpse.

If only he’d had access to higher church authorities, perhaps he could have begged for the ninth-level spell “True Resurrection,” which required no corpse.

Had that happened, perhaps his path of vengeance wouldn’t have been so bitterly pursued.

Perhaps he wouldn’t have crossed worlds at all.

Zhao Xu followed Lei An through the church’s stone corridors, layer after layer, seemingly endless. Along the way, they encountered many priests, all turning aside to greet Lei An, which raised Zhao Xu’s estimation of Lei An’s actual status.

Observing the passing priests, Zhao Xu noticed a significant proportion were women. At first, from his encounters with church staff and the gender ratio in morning prayers, he had assumed the headquarters was mostly male priests.

Finally, Zhao Xu and Lei An arrived at their destination. At the end of the corridor, a golden-trimmed camphorwood door was slightly ajar, and a faint scent of incense wafted from within.

Without a word, Lei An knocked twice and pushed open the door.

Zhao Xu followed Lei An inside and realized it was not an office, but a spacious reception room.

The decor was lavish; even the carpet underfoot was of considerable value. Sitting on the soft, plush palace-style sofa, Zhao Xu nearly sank into its depths, stunned by its comfort.

“Sos, this lad is our new recruit, Midsummer. He’s mastered three domains already. You can teach him the rest directly.” Lei An sat down with a swagger, nearly propping his legs up.

Watching Archbishop Sos pouring red tea, Zhao Xu straightened his posture and sat respectfully.

Sos’s eyes brightened as he looked up at Zhao Xu and spoke in a deep, rich voice:

“You are the monastic priest chosen by the goddess?”

“Monastic priest?” Zhao Xu asked in surprise.