It was difficult without an earth Mage present, but the mysteriously dressed men were able to dig down to the stairwell with repeated uses of .

“There really are stairs,” said the only man dressed in black and brown.

He signaled with his hand, and the two grey and green clad men went underground to test the waters. After a minute, they came back up.

“It is a magically-made cavern, and a large one at that.”

“This place was certainly used for something at one point.”

The black and brown man thought. “The next step would be to follow where they might have gone, but we don't have enough people or supplies for a mission like that. We will have to go back for now.”

“She will probably return to fill in that hole at some point,” Runa offered.

The eyes of the black and brown man glared down at her coldly. “The Black Mountain Forest is not a place where we can leave watchmen posted. We can pass on this information, but the rest is too much for our guild alone. You’d best prepare to forget this matter, Runa.”

“Yes,” she lowered her head, using to keep her emotions from showing.

At that moment, the sound of snapping twigs was heard a bit deeper into the forest. Immediately, the four rangers hid themselves with skills and camouflage. They waited and watched silently as two figures made themselves visible.

“Impossible!” a woman’s voice cried out in astonishment. “It disappeared!”

“You mean the village is gone?” A man’s voice replied.

Patch and Elianora had traveled from the city to here, all so Patch could “give a gift of thanks” to the chief for “helping Elianora,” but the village had vanished into thin air. They were both just standing there, at a loss over what to do, and in the next moment, they were surrounded by four mysterious rangers.

“W-what?!” Elianora became startled and gripped the staff she had brought specially. It was one of her deceased mother’s possessions, and the most powerful magic channeling tool she could find for protection. After all, Patch was an Alchemist, playing a support role. She was the main attacker and defender of this excursion.

Patch also did his best to prepare for combat. With deft movements, he drew several potion vials from a holder on his leg. Unlike Magic Power, potions were gone once you used them. Although they could become quite powerful, he hesitated to use them unless there was clearly no better choice.

Both of them hesitated. The people suddenly surrounding them weren't monsters. Perhaps they weren't human, but they were at least descendants. They could talk their way out of this, surely.

“Um, were we talking too loudly? Did we startle you?” Elianora tried with what she hoped was a polite smile.

“Sorry, our business here seems to be finished, so we’ll just be leaving,” Patch started to edge toward the way they had come.

“Just now, you said something about a village,” a man dressed in black and brown said coldly. “What do you know about it?”

“Nothing? I've never heard of something like a village being here.” The lies rolled off of the half Elf’s tongue like poetry, but the Rangers were not moved.

“There were two groups of humans who came to this village. This pair may have been part of the first,” a short Ranger dressed in black said to the black and brown Ranger.

Elianora’s eyes became dark, and she started to put Magic Power into her staff. “Did you people do something to this village?”

“Elly!” Patch warned.

He was too late though. The Rangers had already noted her hostile intentions. The pommel of the dagger of one of the grey and green clothed Rangers hit her on the back of the head. He hit her so hard that her glasses flew off in the other direction. She let out a gasp of air and crumpled like a rag doll.

“Trell’e Ourop,” he cursed in Elvish and threw down one of the vials in his hand. A cloud of smoke rose up that quickly made the Rangers feel dizzy. Patch immediately downed another potion containing the antidote, and moved to lift the fallen Mage onto his shoulders.

“Tch. You're heavy, Elly,” he gasped, cursing his Elven mother for his thin frame and trotting off into the woods.

Runa collapsed to her hands and knees. She pulled down her cloth mask and bit one of her hands to try and keep herself awake. One of the grey and green clothed men took some kind of pill, and the other had already succumbed to the sleep potion.

The man in black and brown, on the other hand, was still standing tall, his calm eyes watching the pair run off. He didn't seem to be affected by the potion and spoke clearly.

“It’s clear that the girl has a good relationship with the former residents of this missing village. It also seems that your story has been further corroborated, Runa.”

“They’re… getting away,” the girl gasped, shakily standing and leaning against a tree for support.

“There doesn't seem to be any other enemies around. I will go deal with them. You three stay here and recover.”

“Y-yes,” Runa panted and slid back down the side of the tree.

The black and brown clothed man watched her and then shook his head, sprinting after the two witnesses.

For a black ranger to succumb to a sleep potion. Pitiful.

***

Patch knew he wouldn't be able to carry Elly far with his physique, so he held up the empty vial he had drunk from earlier. The ingredient pouch at his waist grew lighter. At the same time, the empty vial began to fill up with a faint purple potion.

The people from crafting guilds had it rough. Normally, a third level skill would qualify a person as a four-star adventurer, but for non-combatants, it was considered the bare minimum. The value of was clearly shown here, as he could immediately make a useful potion, given that he had the ingredients on hand.

Patch quickly downed the potion and his body felt lighter and swifter. If it was like this, he had the confidence to keep running until the nearest village.

***

So he’s an official Alchemist, the black and brown Ranger thought. In that case, let’s end this quickly.

There was no way Patch’s physical enhancement potion could beat the Ranger’s in speed and mobility. Only another third level movement skill could hope to compete.

No, on a fundamental level, unless he was carrying legendary ingredients, it would be unthinkable for a one-star Alchemist to defeat a five-star Ranger. It was already the worst matchup thanks to the black and brown man’s .

Appearing from what seemed to be thin air, the black and brown Ranger cut off the fleeing half Elf’s path. Patch immediately threw a vial that exploded on the ground and tried to run around the enemy, but the pommel of a short sword slammed into the back of his skull, and he didn't even know where it had come from.

Without a word, both Adventurers were carried on the black and brown man’s shoulders back to where his companions were. He was met by them halfway. Runa and one of the grey and green clothed men were supporting the other who was still asleep.

“There’s been a change of plans,” the black and brown man stated. “We’ll be bringing these two to the nearest bunker for interrogation.”

***

Kneeling in front of an altar, alight with flickering white candles, a girl with beautifully braided white-blonde hair clasped her hands over her heart and prayed.

“Dearest Gods, please grant my sister and Patch a safe journey. Let them return home alive and healthy. Please let my sister keep her promise after this last time, and let me eat Patch’s cooking once again.”

Olive lifted her head to look at the face of the altar. There, the figures of seven Gods were carved. The one she was most familiar with was the figure carved just to the right of the middle. It was the image of an old bearded man in robes: Velshire, the god of civilization. He was the creator of the ancient Eves, the ancestors of the Humans.

In the very center was Helvetia, the leader of the Gods. She was depicted as a beautiful woman dressed in armor and wielding a halberd. She was the only God who hadn't created any races. Instead, she created the very world they lived in, and blessed the descendants with the power of healing. The goddess of freedom.

To the left of Helvetia was another womanly figure. This one had fox-like ears and nine bushy tails. The god of kinship, Ashtante. Ashtante was the creator of the ancient Noct, the ancestors of the Beast People. Although she looked like a woman, Ashtante was a shapeshifter, becoming either gender, both, or none at will, and taking on the form of whatever race she wished. Many of Ashtante’s teachings were looked on strangely by those descendants that weren't Beast People, but Humans made sure to at least follow her iron rule: do not force anyone to be what they are not.

Ashtante’s iron rule was unbreakable among noble society. For example, there had been noble lines in the past with homosexual children, but their parents forced them to enter a standard marriage for political gain. Ashtante cursed them for this and removed their family status, thus nullifying all the gains the marriage had brought and leaving the family without a successor.

It was said to be Ashtante’s guidance that gender and sexuality were placed at the very top of the status. Any qualified priest would be able to discover it there.

Beside Ashtante was a sad figure. It was another woman, a true woman, with gentle features and clothed by a flowing dress. That was Asume, the goddess of wisdom. She was the creator of the ancient Indigos; a god who had already died. Regardless, Humans still offered prayers to her, as it was generally assumed that bits of her influence still existed in this world. Many people even thought that a god couldn't be killed permanently, and that Asume would one day revive and bless her devoted followers.

Olive also had a strong impression of the god to the right of Velshire. He was a very tall god holding a beautiful staff. He had big eyes and a thin build. It was Elio, the god of harvest. He was the creator of the ancient Alfs, the ancestors of the Elves. Olive made sure to thank him specially when she prayed, because it was thanks to him that she could be friends with Patch who was half Elf and half Human.

On the far left was Yogg, god of crafts and the creator of the Dwarves’ ancestors, the Yols. He was a stout god holding a hammer that would be equally suited for both smithing and combat. He had a big bushy beard, and symmetrical hands with three fingers and two thumbs. Olive thought he was probably very friendly underneath his rough exterior.

Lastly, on the far right was the god of storms, Aster. Aster’s true form was the same as the Wyre he created; the ancestors of the Dragons. However, here he was depicted in human form: dressed in robes with long hair and branching horns growing from his head. The scriptures said that Ashtante taught Aster her transformation magic so that the other descendants wouldn't be afraid of him and his creations. Olive still thought he was a little scary, since the scriptures said the sky would spit fire when he got mad.

Olive made sure to show proper respect to each of the Gods likenesses before leaving the altar. She walked around the halls of the temple for a bit. Temples were always crafted from the lightest color stone the people could access. Here in the city, there were plenty of earth magic users, and they were commissioned to provide white marble for its construction. The beautiful stone and elegant wall carvings were relaxing to look at, and the windows along the outer wall provided a nice view of the gardens. It was like this place existed in a different world than the girl’s narrow, poorly lit wooden house.

Frowning slightly, she sat down on a bench nearby and hung her head. Since it wasn't good to be like that in the temple, she lifted her hands again in prayer. Unnoticed, a man in robes approached.

“Excuse me, are you an official Priestess? I'm looking for council.”

Olive looked up from her prayers. The man was a Human who had short, slightly curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Judging by the staff in his hand and his attire, he was a Cleric. Clerics were similar to priests, but they didn't have as many skills for communing with the Gods. Most notably, they lacked the ability to look at another's status. In exchange, they had higher combat ability.

“I'm sorry, but my advancement test isn't until tomorrow. Sister Maria should be available. I could take you to her.”

“Ahh, in that case, please allow me a little more time to hesitate,” he said, sitting down on the opposite side of the bench.

The girl kept glancing over at him until she gathered the courage to ask, “I'm Olive. What’s your name?”

The man lifted his head and offered her a slightly strained, friendly smile. “I'm Samael. It’s nice to meet you, Olive.”

“You look really troubled, mister Samael.”

Samael looked at her for a moment and chuckled. “I could say the same about you. Are you nervous about your tests tomorrow, Olive?”

“I'm just worried about my sister. She’s an Adventurer, and she just left for the Black Mountain Forest. The last time she went there, one of her group members died.”

Samael frowned sadly. “Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Although I'm only a cleric, I'll pray for her as well, okay?”

Olive looked at the man’s warm smile and fidgeted in her seat. “I-if you want, I can listen to your concerns too. You can practice on me before seeing sister Maria. Since I'm an apprentice Priestess, I won't tell anyone about what you tell me.”

Samael smiled sadly, “Alright, Olive,” and looked down at his hands. “To be honest, I'm having some trouble reconciling my beliefs. According to the church’s teachings, all Monsters are enemies, and all creatures with the Holy attribute are friends. But I saw something that I can only describe as a Monster with the Holy attribute, and I don't know how I should feel about it.”

Samael looked up and the young Priestess was staring at him with saucer-shaped eyes.

“D-does it sound silly?” he asked, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, it does sound crazy when I say it out loud, haha.”

“N-no, um, how to say this,” the girl played with her fingers while she sorted out her thoughts. “Since Lord Helvetia created the Holy attribute, nothing but the influence of the Gods can bestow it onto people. So, if the Gods really chose to gift a Monster with the Holy attribute, there must be a reason, I think.” The girl frowned and lifted her head slightly. “Forgive me, mister Samael, but do you have close family who you could consult about this with?”

The cleric smiled shyly. “I have a wife, but I didn't want to trouble her with this. I share everything with her, but,” he shook his head, “I was worried that this is the kind of question that can get people in trouble. I decided not to tell her about it until after consulting with a Priest.”

“I-is that so? It was a silly question, forgive me.”

“Not at all. You've been very helpful, Olive. Can you show me to where sister Maria is?”

“Of course. Please follow me.”

Olive delivered Samael to his destination, and walked back through the halls with a contemplative expression.

Lord Asume, at a time like this, I wish you could still speak to us.