『Excerpt from Bhagavad Gita, Chapter 11.』


    * * *


    Natsukawa, the Priest in charge of the first-year students at Lord Howe Academy, wasn’t particularly surprised when she found the Saintess’ room empty.


    Partly because she’d anticipated this would happen eventually and partly because she’d already dealt with the Saintess’ vanishing act (?) before.


    Of course, staying calm was one thing; handling the aftermath was another.


    As soon as she discovered the empty room—particularly the missing Holy Relics—she immediately summoned Joanna Thule and the Principal.


    While the Principal’s response was laced with dismay, Joanna Thule remained unfazed—even more than Natsukawa had expected.


    And so, while Joanna and Natsukawa scoured the academy and the Principal dug up flight records that showed she’d made a break for it at dawn, Natsukawa’s phone rang.


    Saintess


    Surprisingly, it was an international call from the Saintess herself; a collect call on top of that.


    “…Saintess?”


    Given that Natsukawa might say something irreverent, Joanna answered the call in her stead.


    At any rate, the Saintess spoke in her usual, frivolous tone over the phone.


    A blatant yet considerate question. Joanna couldn’t help but smile a little and replied.


    “Only the guards, who received a bit of scolding.”


    - *Were they dishonorably discharged?*


    “No, they’re still serving without issue.”


    Though her father thrashed them thoroughly until the Saintess’ whereabouts were confirmed. But such minor details seemed unnecessary.


    - *So would you get fired if I escape again?*


    “…Likely, yes. Though it wouldn’t really bother me seeing that I’ve already retired.”


    “One moment, Saintess. Before you go, may I ask you one last question? Are you… with that crow right now?”


    “Ah, then I’ll handle things over here, and tell her to earn her keep.”


    With that, Joanna ended the call.


    Natsukawa, who had been recording the call, asked if they should have tried to persuade her, but Joanna’s response was blunt.


    “Persuade the Saintess? With what?”


    “…”


    “Just relax and pray.”


    “How can you be so nonchalant? And what will you even write in the report to the priest organization? That she just wandered off on her own—?”


    “This is a political issue, not one of faith.”


    Joanna then looked off into the distance, probably toward the Dimensional Portal in Chicago.


    “Do not doubt, Natsukawa. The Saintess sees much farther than we do.”


    * * *


    The Saintess was gazing at a distant place.


    On a man-made island beyond Lake Michigan, a massive Dimensional Portal rippled.


    Commonly called Chicago Dimensional Portal by Earthians.


    Despite the enormous number of trucks and people passing through the portal, she remained steadfast, her eyes fixed on the world beyond.


    More precisely, she was focused on the future that was about to unfold.


    “Saintess?”


    Then, the familiar voice of the dwarf interrupted her Foresight.


    Turning around, she saw a dwarf, his hands full of rings, bowing respectfully towards her.


    The Saintess smiled and accepted his greeting.


    “I know the sudden request must have been difficult, but thank you for fulfilling it, Darulma.”


    “…Since it is the Saintess herself making the request, what could be difficult?”


    But even though he said that, the fatigue on Darulma’s face was clearly evident.


    That was to be expected. Breaking through illegal immigration routes and smuggling heavy weaponry in just half a day was no easy task, even for a conglomerate.


    “I apologize in advance, but you’ll have to board the truck container to pass through the Portal.”


    “There’s no need to apologize. In fact, I should be thanking you for indulging my request.”


    Darulma simply bowed, his face overwhelmed with emotion.


    And as the Saintess turned to head toward the prepared container vehicle, the massive crow standing beside her tapped her beak abruptly.


    “Saintess, you can’t just depart without giving anything in return, can you?” Sear?h the novёlF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    “…Pardon?”


    “The old Holy Knight may not mind it, but this dwarf will surely be interrogated. At the very least, you should let him know where you’re headed to.”


    Hearing the crow’s words, Darulma cleared his throat. He pretended not to understand, but his appreciation for her consideration was obvious.


    “Ah… Sorry, Darulma. I didn’t think that far.”


    The Saintess paused for a moment, lost in thought. How much should she reveal?


    If she were to tell him that she was headed to Dreitherial, Darulma would easily find out what was going on in the city. Perhaps even the priests in the Holy Nation and the Americans would too.


    And then, they would either become afraid or try to stop her, anticipating the reason she moved.


    The Saintess wanted neither of that. The fewer variables in her Foresight, the better.


    So, she chose to speak a truth that could easily create misunderstandings.


    “The Dwarven mountain range. I’m planning to ride a bike to that place first.”


    Darulma looked somewhat taken aback at her unexpected answer.


    “May I ask why?”


    “I’m going to meet someone… though they’re not exactly human. Anyway, it’s a friend.”


    A brief silence filled the air.


    Darulma kept his mouth shut, trying to process her words, and before long, the massive container truck began to approach them. This was the truck that would take the Saintess beyond the Dimensional Portal.


    “Is this friend who I think it is?”


    As the truck came to a halt right in front of them, Darulma asked, his tone cautious.


    The crow, listening from the side, was puzzled by the question and looked at the Saintess, but she only smiled meaningfully.


    After studying her smile for a moment, Darulma’s eyes widened in realization as he seemed to understand.


    “Please tell your friend it was an honor to be of help, Saintess.”


    With that farewell, the Saintess boarded the container. The truck, carrying weapons, a motorbike, and the Saintess, soon left, only leaving thick exhaust in its wake.


    As he watched the truck drive toward the Dimensional Portal, Darulma unconsciously lowered his head.


    * * *


    Yeomyeong raised his head.


    The concrete room where he had been with Seti and Neti just moments ago had transformed into a snow-covered plain.


    The change occurred less than a second after he infused mana into the Arcane Relic.


    Did he manage to enter this state of trance so quickly? He furrowed his brow and looked around.


    However, upon closer inspection, the snowfield around him appeared to be far from the typical trance state.


    How should he describe it? Should he call it a world that could only be seen with the eyes, like a scene from a movie or a game?


    There was none of the sensation typical of a trance or mental world.


    Even though he was standing in the middle of a snowstorm, the cold did not bother him at all. That was proof enough.


    He had heard that each Arcane Relic presented its content in different ways. Was this one like that?


    Just as Yeomyeong was pondering over this, he caught sight of something shimmering in the snow between the mounds— the gleam of a scope.


    Yeomyeong reflexively ducked down and a bullet grazed his hair.


    As the cut hair fluttered and fell, Yeomyeong immediately conjured an ice spike and fired it toward the direction of the bullet.


    The ice spike silently lodged itself into the scope.


    However, thanks to the sniper discarding his rifle and leaping away, there was no blood.


    “Damn it!”


    The sniper, dressed in white camouflage from head to toe, cursed, his whole body emanating a sharp aura like that of a special forces operative.


    Who was that? Was this some sort of trial from the Arcane Relic?


    Regardless, since a shot had already been fired, Yeomyeong had no intention of letting him off easily.


    Yeomyeong created another ice spike and hurled it forward, but the sniper quickly drew a pistol from his waist and shot down the ice spike.


    His shooting skills were nearly impossible to acknowledge, even after witnessing it firsthand.


    And while Yeomyeong was impressed, he wasn’t thrown off. After all, he could always just stab him with a sword instead of using the ice spike.


    With that thought in mind, he immediately infused mana into his calves and activated the Flying Kick technique.


    Though the snow reached his thighs and tried to hold him back, the mana from the Surging Wave technique acted like a snowplow, parting the snow and propelling him forward.


    “You ignorant bastard—”


    The sniper cursed while running in the opposite direction, and Yeomyeong responded not with words, but by launching yet another ice spike.


    Each time he did so, a bullet would come and deflect the spike, but no shots were aimed directly at Yeomyeong.


    Was it due to the pistol’s range? No, this felt like—


    At that moment, something snagged at his feet.


    He was able to move away as soon as he heard the click, thanks to his Superhuman reaction speed, but his opponent didn’t miss the opportunity.


    The explosion of a landmine, followed by a concealed gunshot.


    A bullet flew toward Yeomyeong’s head as he landed in the snow after avoiding the explosion right in front of him.


    Had this been before he had learned Telekinesis, the perfectly timed attack would have caused the bullet to pierce his head.


    But that was no longer possible.


    Just before the sniper’s bullet could strike him, Yeomyeong activated his Telekinesis and caught the bullet just in time.


    “Ha-!”


    Seeing the bullet suspended in the air, the sniper let out a bitter laugh before continuing to run through the snow.


    Instead of resuming the reckless chase like before, Yeomyeong stood on his tiptoes and carefully placed his feet on the snow.


    Feather Step, or more precisely, he had condensed the lightness of the Feather Step to its extreme, so as he stepped on the snow, his body just glided across.


    “…No tracks on the snow?”


    The sniper muttered something incomprehensible and immediately drew his pistol from his waist and turned to fire it.


    However, instead of Yeomyeong, he aimed at the booby trap Yeomyeong was supposed to step on.


    From the deafening explosion, the hidden shrapnel from the bomb, to the heat of the blast.


    Yeomyeong raised his arms to shield his head and drew on his mana, but it was impossible to absorb all the shock and he was eventually overwhelmed.


    He rolled through the snow, leaving long tracks behind. And the moment the sniper reloaded his magazine, a thin ice spike gleamed through the smoke of the explosion.


    By the time the sniper noticed it and turned his head, the ice spike had already reached right in front of him.


    His military bandage was torn, and blood splattered from the gash.


    Unfortunately, the wound wasn’t fatal. His ear was severed, and blood streamed down from his jawline, but that was all.


    “Oh, you’re quite skilled.”


    The sniper, clutching the wound, appeared ordinary.


    A typical Slav-looking man, someone who could be found anywhere in Russia.


    For a moment, he stared at the spot where Yeomyeong had rolled, then immediately launched his body forward.


    In the next instant, an invisible telekinetic force swept across the snow where the sniper had been standing.


    The sniper believed he had dodged it, but from the very start, Yeomyeong’s target hadn’t been the man—it was the snow.


    The snow, swept up by the telekinetic force, blocked the sniper’s vision.


    And that brief moment determined the outcome.


    —


    As the disoriented sniper tried to regain his bearings, Yeomyeong descended in front of him. The distance between them was now equal to that of the reach of a sword and a pistol.


    An oppressive silence filled the air as they locked eyes.


    The sniper fiddled with his pistol, while Yeomyeong had somehow drawn his sword already.


    The tension in the air grew taut like a drawn bowstring, but Yeomyeong spoke first.


    “I think this is enough of a test. Or should I cut you down to the neck?”


    The sniper suddenly burst into laughter.


    His lips curled into a grin as blood continued dripping from his severed ear, staining the snow beneath him, spreading across the white ground.


    “Not just enough, it’s overflowing! Even in Spetsnaz, it’s rare to find a Superhuman like you. Moryne, that fool for her daughter… No, that lunatic for her daughter has finally found someone worthy.”


    Lunatic for her daughter? Yeomyeong frowned slightly, but the sniper continued without any hesitation.


    “I’ve been waiting since Manchuria, wondering when you’d finally use me. I was curious why you’d let the Arcane Relic rot… but now I see. You were just waiting for the right moment.”


    “The right moment?”


    Yeomyeong tilted his head in confusion.


    He had just wanted to use the Arcane Relic to learn the techniques or skills before using it as bait… What on earth did that mean?


    Did the sniper misinterpret his expression? The sniper patted Yeomyeong’s shoulder in understanding.


    “Ah, I see. Not just any moment, but the perfect moment. To have the legacy of the old Soviet Union right beneath your feet… after crossing the Dimensional Portal.”


    “…”


    The old Soviet Union… what? Yeomyeong frowned, unsure of what the sniper was talking about.


    “In this land, where neither Yankees nor Moscow fools exist, the long-held cherished wish of the Blue Rat is about to be fulfilled—Wait, what’s with that expression?”


    Finally noticing Yeomyeong’s puzzled look, the sniper stopped mid-monologue.


    A mix of disbelief, confusion, and a subtly awkward atmosphere hung in the air.


    After exchanging a few awkward glances, the sniper asked in a baffled tone.


    “Wait, you’re not… using me to find the secret armory, are you?”