Early the next morning, while the morning mist had yet to vanish from the ancient roof tiles of the convent, the three siblings—Shin, Kento, and Loona—huddled in a discreet corner behind the garden.
With grave expressions, Shin and Kento decided to relay the earth-shattering information Loona had witnessed the night before to Ling Mo.
They hoped an enigmatic genius with such unconventional movements could offer some insightful assessments.
However, the black-haired boy’s reaction completely defied their expectations.
Ling Mo listened to the entire account without a single ripple crossing his face, his dead-fish eyes staring blankly into the void.
He merely snorted softly, lazily shrugged his shoulders, and turned back around to continue throwing punches into thin air.
To Ling Mo, secrets, assassinations, or the Crusade Division didn’t spark an ounce of interest.
Furthermore, he was naturally a youth of exceptionally few words.
To him, opening his mouth to speak was a massive chore—he would rather stay silent to conserve his breath.
Shin could only shake his head with a wry smile.
— “Classic Ling Mo…
Well, we just have to remain exceptionally cautious ourselves.”
The Bonds of Sanctuary
A new day unfolded like any other.
Temporarily shelving her terror, Loona continued to “camp out” in the library with a mountain of theoretical textbooks spanning fields from biology to mechanics.
But today, she was no longer alone.
Sister Clara joined her in the library.
Clara frequently dropped by, quietly sitting to one side, smiling gently as she watched the thirteen-year-old girl eagerly turn every page with rare brilliance.
Whenever she noticed Loona’s eyes growing tired, Clara would proactively invite her to take a brief break.
Their style of relaxation was quite special: sitting together on the grass by the windowsill, reading comic books and witty fantasy novels.
Loona truly cherished these peaceful moments with Clara.
Sister Clara gently pinched Loona’s chubby cheek, giggling:
— “Loona, you are seriously too adorable.
Look at the way you smile, it’s absolutely precious!”
Loona blushed crimson, scratching her head with a giggle, her eyes suddenly lighting up as she turned to the final page of the volume:
— “Hehe…
Sister Clara, do we have Volume 17 of this series here?
It left off at such a thrilling cliffhanger, stopping right in the middle is agonizing!”
Clara paused for a moment, then stood up with a laugh:
— “Oh, let me go check the newly delivered crates of books!
Give me a moment.”
She rummaged through a corner of the room for a while, finally letting out a soft cheer as she pulled out a slightly dusty paperback volume:
— “Found it!
But it’s a bit dusty, let me clean it up for you.”
Sister Clara carefully wiped away the layer of dust with a tissue, then handed it over with a smile.
Loona squealed in delight, catching the book with both hands:
— “Whoa!
Here it is, thank you so much, Sister Clara!”
— “Come, let’s sit and read together to see what the knight does next!” Clara sat down warmly right next to the young girl.
— “Yes!” Loona tilted her head, resting it lightly against Clara’s shoulder, feeling the profound warmth of a real family.
An Earnest Vow
This deep bond naturally expanded and matured over time.
By late afternoon, when the pale, golden sunset bathed the grand Cathedral in crimson hues, Sister Clara was kneeling on the wooden pews, her hands clasped in devout prayer before the crucifix.
Loona quietly stepped inside from the corridor.
Witnessing Clara’s solemn posture, the young girl chose not to interrupt, instead slipping silently onto the edge of the same pew, remaining absolutely still to let her finish praying.
A few moments later, Sister Clara let out a soft breath, opening her eyes and lowering her hands.
Turning around, she noticed Loona had been sitting beside her all along and offered a warm smile:
Thank you for waiting so quietly for me.”
Loona swung her legs, looking up with curious eyes:
— “Sister Clara…
I see you pray a lot every day.
What do you always pray for?”
A fleeting, faint sorrow crossed Clara’s eyes as she gazed up at the stained-glass window high above, her voice as light as a passing breeze:
— “I pray for the safety and peace of everyone in this convent.
I pray that lovely children like you, Kento, and Shin can live a truly wonderful life, free from harm…
And, I also pray for the soul of my biological younger sister.”
Clara turned, emotionally grasping Loona’s small, delicate hands, her eyes welling with tears:
— “You know, Loona…
every time I see you diligently reading, every time I see your smile, I miss my late sister terribly.
She looked exactly like you back then…
If you don’t mind…
would you be willing to be my adoptive younger sister?
I want to protect and love you just like my own flesh and blood.”
Loona was profoundly taken aback.
She felt a bit flustered, her heart racing at the sudden surge of such deep affection.
But looking into Clara’s sincere, tear-filled eyes, the guarded walls of a Dark Zone orphan completely crumbled.
Regaining her composure, Loona flashed her most radiant smile:
— “I would love to!
From this day forward, I truly have a real older sister!”
Sob…
Clara couldn’t contain her emotions as tears of happiness streamed down her cheeks.
She wrapped her arms tightly around Loona’s small frame, choking back tears:
— “Thank you…
Thank you so much, Loona…
Thank you for allowing me to feel that familiar warmth I once had with my sister…”
The two embraced for a long time within the sacred Cathedral space.
But the moment they let go and prepared to leave hand-in-hand, they ran straight into Mother Superior Agatha, who was marching down the corridor with her characteristically severe countenance.
— “Clara,” Agatha’s voice rang out, cold and flat.
“Some carrots were recently planted in the West garden; go check on their growth.
Dusk is falling; prepare to enter the kitchen to cook for the children, do not delay.”
— “Yes, Mother Superior, right away!” Sister Clara hastily wiped her tear stains, turning to pat Loona’s head.
“I’ll go tend to the garden for a bit, Loona.
I’ll be right back with you.”
— “Yes, please be careful, Sister!” Loona waved.
Once Sister Clara departed, the space was left to only Mother Superior Agatha and young Loona.
The atmosphere instantly turned heavy.
Agatha swept a razor-sharp gaze over Loona before speaking coldly:
— “As for you, return to the library and organize that pile of books.
Do not leave them scattered everywhere; this convent does not tolerate disorder.”
— “Yes…
Mother Superior, I will clean it up immediately.” Loona pulled her neck back, bowing obediently before dashing off to the library.
The invisible lethal aura radiating from that woman always sent a chill down her spine.
Martial Shadows and Midnight Movements
By nightfall, the convent returned to its bustling, vibrant daily rhythm.
Following dinner came the free relaxation period before bedtime.
In the open courtyard, with Shin acting as the referee, Kento and Ling Mo engaged in a light yet highly spectacular exchange of leg techniques.
THUD!
CRACK!
Kento deployed the devastating straight punches of Kyokushin Karate combined with the fluid, evasive footwork of Aikido, attempting to lock down Ling Mo’s angles of movement.
In the final seconds, Kento unleashed a highly deceptive low sweeping kick, coming within inches of striking and securing a victory against Ling Mo.
However, Ling Mo’s speed was simply terrifying.
In that split-second, razor-thin window, Ling Mo proved a step faster, miraculously sliding past the sweep to deliver a light tap to Kento’s shoulder, concluding the match with the advantage firmly in his favor.
Late night, 1:00 AM.
The convent plunged deep into the silent cover of darkness.
The wind whistling through the door cracks sounded profoundly solitary.
Everyone had returned to their rooms and fallen into a deep slumber.
Inside the three siblings’ bedroom, the steady, gentle breathing of Shin and Loona echoed softly.
At that moment, Kento suddenly snapped his eyes open.
The fourteen-year-old boy’s eyes burned bright in the darkness, completely alert, without an ounce of drowsiness.
He quietly sat up, tossing aside his blanket to step off the bed as soundlessly as possible, ensuring not a single noise escaped.
As he passed Loona’s bed, noticing his younger sister curled up with her blanket kicked half off, Kento smiled gently.
He gently pulled the blanket back over her securely, then turned and quietly pushed the door open to slip out of the room.
The destination Kento was heading toward was neither the restroom nor the training yard…
it was the main hall of the Cathedral—the precise location of the hidden vault’s entrance according to Loona’s nightly account.
Kento’s footsteps were swift and silent like a nocturnal cat.
Advancing into the eerie, shadow-drenched main hall of the Cathedral, he relied on the meticulous details Loona had described yesterday to rapidly locate the crucifix relief on the wall.
Kento reached out, decisively twisting it to the precise angle.
CLICK…
SNAP…
The stone floor parted.
Devoid of a single shred of fear, Kento slid down into the subterranean passage, lightly tugging the mechanism to seal the entrance behind him.
The young boy strode down the dust-covered corridor, approaching the iron door that stood slightly ajar at the end of the path.
CREAK…
Unlike Loona, Kento didn’t bother peeking through the crack.
He directly used his hand to shove the heavy iron door wide open, boldly stepping straight into the ultra-secret vault.
Inside the chamber, Priest Malachi and Mother Superior Agatha were inspecting the dark runic weaponry.
The sudden intrusion of a trespasser caused both to instantly whip their heads around.
SHRING!!!
In a flash, the air within the vault plummeted to absolute zero.
The gazes of both Malachi and Agatha simultaneously turned razor-sharp, chilling to the bone.
The dense, horrific killing intent of the Church’s top assassins instantly locked onto the fourteen-year-old boy’s frame.
The pressure was so immense that the surrounding ground threatened to fracture.
At this moment, should Kento make a single errant movement or utter a hostile word, the two leaders would immediately execute him on the spot without a shred of hesitation.
Standing on the razor-thin line between life and death—where one choice offered a reality-altering opportunity to grow stronger, and the other meant being crushed to ash—Kento kept his spine perfectly straight.
His eyes burned with unwavering resolve, defiantly staring right into the twin barrels of death before him.
Priest Malachi narrowed his eyes, the runic greatsword in his grip letting out a spine-chilling hum as he questioned in a deep, gravelly, bone-chilling tone:
— “Why are you here…
Kento?”
END OF CHAPTER 16