The clothes I wore felt strange. It was a long white robe, supposedly radiating a positive aura that calmed the heart. But to me, it felt no different. My gaze was fixed on my wrist, wrapped in white cloth framed with gold.
"You look perfect."
A woman's voice echoed in my ear. I didn't take it as a compliment, just a formality that had to be said. After all, no matter what I wore, I was still myself.
That woman was a "Church Stylist," whose duty was to ensure that the priests always appeared wise and reliable.
I lowered my hand and turned to face her. Her hair was covered by a black veil with white stripes, yet her beauty and the authority she carried remained evident.
I didn't care much. To me, the church was merely a place to survive. I felt no need to worship God or feel close to Him.
And to them, the church was a prison for me.
That made sense.
Twelve years ago, the "Church" and the Empire seemed to have conspired to do something behind the scenes. As a result, two noble families—Heinrich and Hume, my family—were eradicated. The surface reason was treason, but I felt there was something much bigger behind it.
My entire family became victims.
I still remember the smell of ash and the screams of people as the Hume residence burned.
I still remember the last words my sister uttered before she took her own life.
Strangely, they let me live.
And as a follow-up, they made me a permanent prisoner in this church. Unlike ordinary prisoners, since I was only eight years old at the time, rather than a prison, I saw the church as a place of refuge.
The word "Prisoner" was somewhat contradictory to my current condition. I was still free to wander around the church, participate in church events, take part in offerings, and obediently be a part of the church.
Until now, when I was finally ordained as a priest at the age of twenty.
Of course, that was considered very young. However, in my case, I had spent more than half of my life in the church, learning everything that needed to be learned.
Even in these past two years, I had undergone priest training. As a final result, here I was.
I still had many questions. Why was I spared? What was their ultimate goal? What were they trying to prove? From what I understood, this might be related to the mastery of the eight mystical paths.
The Empire controlled four mystical paths: Mentalist, Alchemist, Knight, and Sorcerer.
Meanwhile, the other four were divided among different factions.
The Kaban Island government and six noble families, including the Hume family, controlled the Imaginer path.
The Intelligence Academy and eight noble families, including the Heinrich family, controlled the Hunter path.
The Church controlled the Sealer path.
And the last path, Sinner, was considered taboo.
Since the first generation, the Hume family had never submitted to the Empire. In fact, many noble families did not submit to the Empire and ruled their own territories.
Perhaps the Hume family refused to submit to the Empire or the Church to grant them unrestricted power over the Imaginer path or to make my father, the head of the family at that time, a pawn of the Empire. That could have been the cause of their extermination.
Indeed, besides the Hume family, several factions also had access to that path. What was clear was that the accusations against the Hume and Heinrich families were nonsense.
Even so, there was nothing I could do. Even now, I was confined within the walls of the church, never seeing the outside world. But I had no choice but to be patient, waiting for the right time to seek answers.
My status in this place was as a "Prisoner."
I wore a white robe with golden ornaments on several parts, a five-sided hat with golden bells on the right and left sides, and walked through the corridor. On this very day, I was officially ordained as a priest.
It wasn't because I wanted it, but to survive, I needed to earn their trust. They let me live for a reason. Without knowing the reason, I only needed to use it to find answers.
I stepped through the door, seeing six people waiting quietly inside. They were the high priests, and one of them was the Saintess. They were the ones who would conduct my ordination ritual.
"Oh, look at you. You look great."
A silver-bearded man smiled kindly at me. That man was Rio Ranc Edion, a noble from the Edion family who also wielded the Imaginer path. He had been my mentor during my two years of priest training. Our relationship was built on hypocrisy. On the surface, he treated me like his student, but deep down, I knew he didn't care.
The same applied to me.
"Let's get started right away."
A beautiful woman in a long white robe with a silver gear-shaped necklace spoke. She was Anne Fiore Evanc, a Saintess. She stood out the most among those present at my ordination. Her red hair was covered by a sheer white veil, and on her forehead was a beautiful ornament made of pure gold.
Her red eyes were a hallmark of the imperial family. Although she wasn't from the main lineage, she had managed to find her way and become a Saintess, serving the church.
For over twelve years in this church, I had come to know her well. Like most priests, she was also a mystic power user from the Sealer path.
I sat in the center of the room, legs folded, maintaining a calm and gentle expression.
I heard the sound of paper rustling. My gaze shifted slightly. A black-covered book with red ornaments emitted a thin wisp of black smoke as it floated in the air, flipping to the last page.
Red ink began to appear, drawing something. A line...
I was the only one who could see the book, a part of my mystical power, "Author," from the Imaginer path.
Seeing this, my smile widened.
I returned my gaze forward, where Saintess Anne sat. She was the one leading my ordination. She and two other high priests approached me, holding the church's holy book.
Saintess Anne was the closest, sitting cross-legged before me.
She placed the holy book on the floor, turned it so it faced me, and pushed it toward me with her index finger.
The holy book had a fittingly sacred appearance. Its cover was made from a soft type of wood that only grew in Alderes, the greatest divine city in the Empire.
Opening the book, the first thing that entered my view was a symbol of a jagged circle with the image of a woman in supplication. A symbol representing the existence of the God worshiped in the Empire, Mystara.
I flipped to the next page.
Finding line after line of praises and oaths.
I parted my lips and read softly.
"Oh, the all-seeing one, the God who radiates warmth from truth and justice. We come with hearts full of gratitude and humility, bowing in Your wisdom, and seeking Your infinite mercy. In Your guidance, we find strength and peace. You who unveil the veil of darkness, bringing bright light to lost souls. I, Ralph Veir Hume, vow to remain faithful and devote my life to Your path."
This was part of the ordination process—the Oath.
No mystical elements were involved; it was merely a symbolization of faith and sincerity.
The high priests looked relieved. Saintess Anne smiled at me, then nodded.
The ritual continued with more or less the same process.
I knew that behind all of this, there was a conspiracy I had yet to uncover. But for now, I had to play by their rules while looking for an opening to find answers.