Thankfully, Lan did not lie about the nicer experience using that teleportation device.

It did not give Xidriel any kind of nausea nor any ringing in his ear, and the overall experience reminded him of using the elevator in some high end hotel during that one company event that he begrudgingly attended because his then-girlfriend-and-now-ex wanted to join.

Quiet, smooth, and super comfortable.

From the moment Lan had hovered his palm over the diadem to inject some kind of magic into it, causing a light to surround them, the entire process was over in less than a minute.

They arrived in a large room that also has the veiled bust, the familiar stoneworks on the walls giving hints to Xidriel that they have arrived in an old but well maintained cathedral or monastery.

A priest wearing gray cassocks with yellow trims had jumped up to meet them when he noticed them materializing from thin air.

“Identification, please.” He formally said to them.

Lan pulled out a necklace from the inside of his clothes where a signet ring dangles from it. The priest squinted at it for a moment before nodding and looking over at the rest of them, waiting for them to produce what he requested.

Amon heaved a sigh, looking over at Lan. “Help me out a little here, will you?”

“Didn’t you ditch me halfway through our mission?”

“This and that is different. I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

Lan only gave him a withering look before walking over to him. Amon lifted his chin up so that Lan could reach down his neck and pull out his necklace to show the signet ring on it.

The priest inspected it as well then turned his attention to Xidriel, who then slightly panicked.

He…doesn’t really have anything on him to vouch for his identity, except for his face and memories.

Though the changes that happened when he possessed this body destroyed his chances of physically proving who he really was.

He’s not even sure how Lan recognized him.

Lan smoothly stood in front of Xidriel, a kind and friendly smile on his lips. “He’s a rescued victim. We need to see the Matriarch to discuss his situation.”

The priest only stared at him, as if wanting to ask why he would escalate such a problem all the way up to the top brass but decided against it.

The men in front of him who presented their identification may be young, but they belonged to families blessed by the Gods.

It’s best not to cross them and question their judgement.

His eyes flicked towards the young boy in Amon’s arms, assuming he’s also a rescued victim, before turning around to lead them towards the door.

When he opened it, he gestured for one of the female guards who was walking past to escort Lan’s group to the Matriarch’s office, situated on the second floor of the eastern wing.

Xidriel quietly followed behind Lan, stealing glances at his surroundings every now and then. At first he was confused and in denial when he noticed the hallways and the inner courtyard, but after recalling what happened to him in the past days, he’s starting to grasp how this world works.

He recognized it as the Radiance Hall Abbey, the largest and oldest abbey housing the clergy dedicated to the Forgiving Moon Goddess, Lasuina.

Predominantly run by nuns, they started accepting priests and laymen in the last fifteen years due to the decline in women wanting to serve. His mother, a former Saintess, used to serve in this very Abbey until a chance encounter with Xidriel’s father made her leave with him.

There were nuns walking about, doing their own designated chores, while a handful of female guards patrolled each area.

They continued to walk in silence, with each hallway bringing back vague memories from the depth of Xidriel’s soul.

Soon enough, they reached the Matriarch’s office. The guard knocked on the door politely then opened it for their group.

Lan and Amon gave the guard a small appreciative nod as they went in, while Xidriel hesitated for a moment.

He remembers this room.

It was where his mother had taken him when he was three or four years old, to meet and be blessed by a kind, elderly woman.

Would she recognize him, like Lan did?

He moved his feet when he noticed the guard staring at him, wondering why he wasn’t going in.

The moment he stepped into the room however, all of his senses dulled.

His limbs became heavy, his hearing blocked as if he was submerged deep underwater, and his chest heaved.

In his eyes, the once warm and welcoming room now has a cold filter, with shadows dominating on the sides.

On the outside, he seemed like he was hesitating on entering an office he’s not meant to be in, like walking into the principal’s or a boss’s office, afraid of being reprimanded for something he didn’t have control over.

He could see Lan and Amon greeting and talking with an elderly woman with light bronze skin, wearing a gray and white nun’s clothing, with a necklace that has a gold crescent pendant embossed on a circular base.

He recognized her as the same person who had kindly ruffled his hair as a child.

Yet at this moment, he’s not even sure what she really is anymore.

Through the filter, her kind smile, her gaze as Amon had set down the ‘boy’ on a nearby chair for her to inspect felt surreal when she stood next to Lan and Amon, who were completely human.

He could instinctively tell that there is something far more ancient within that aged body, and that it was only using that form to fit in.

Xidriel grabbed his left arm to keep it steady under his cloak, squeezing hard to get his senses back.

He has to get out of here as soon as possible.

His guts tell him that she would notice that a different soul is now residing in his body.

If she learns that he’s not the real one that she had blessed, he would be killed on the spot.

Helplessly dying a second time isn’t in his list. He barely got to live the life of a noble as well…

Underneath his cloak, his left hand is starting to produce small, shadowy tendrils like the ones that tried to kill him before, as his focus was set on the old nun. These shadow tendrils moved and poised itself like a snake, waiting to pounce on its prey, quite unlike his flight response.

His heart constricted the moment the elderly nun turned her attention towards him, making him step back a little.

He could see Lan immediately stepping forward to explain but the elderly nun only raised her hand to stop him from babbling and she walked over to Xidriel.

Xidriel soon locked eyes with her, who is a head shorter than him, and the serenity of the moon’s gaze was reflected on those gray irises.

Instead of regaining his peace of mind of seeing a familiar person from his past, an inexplicably slow, boiling anger bubbled inside him.