"Why… is it 'churches' and not just one 'church'?"
The skeleton principal sensed something strange and asked.
Of course, it was possible the boy just wanted to hear the pros and cons of various churches to pick the one that suited him best.
But...
Oddly enough, the words that boy from the Wardanaz family had just said—though they clearly weren't meant that way—sounded something like this:
"I want to join all the churches, so please recommend the best ones."
The skeleton principal was certain he had misheard.
"Uh… it's not wrong to believe in multiple gods, is it?"
'What a crazy bastard!'
The skeleton principal was honestly impressed—it had been a while since a freshman had caught him this off guard.
To be fair, there were people in the Empire who sincerely believed in multiple gods. For instance, some believed in both the god of love and the god of wisdom.
But that Wardanaz boy clearly had no intention of actually believing in anything.
He just wanted to milk each church for whatever benefits he could get—blatantly and shamelessly.
So blatantly, in fact, that it was almost charming.
(Of course, the churches themselves might not feel the same way...)
Still, it was a good question. And very well asked. It's true—believing in multiple gods isn't wrong. But some churches do get rather petty about that kind of thing.
"That's correct."
Ihan nodded quickly in agreement.
Just as the principal had guessed, Ihan's goal was straightforward:
"Join every church that will have me."
He figured, if signing up could get him free items, then why not?
As long as a church didn't explicitly forbid dual membership, it was a win.
First, I recommend the Frisinga Church.
Their god upholds the world through self-sacrifice. The people there are generally kind and should welcome you.
"Frisinga… Church."
Ihan jotted it down.
Next, maybe the Kalaso Church.
Their god is a mischievous one who embraces chaos and change. They won't care if you worship other gods—very open-minded.
"Kalaso… Church."
And lastly, the Kaporeo Church.
God of swordsmanship and swordsmen. They'll probably accept someone as strange as you too.
"Kaporeo Church…"
Ihan paused mid-note.
How did the principal know he was taking swordsmanship classes?
'Wait. That's… a little creepy.'
It wasn't a big deal, but still—how much had this guy been watching him?
He'd never had good experiences with professors who paid too much attention…
"Learning swordsmanship is good, but don't neglect magic. In the end, only magic is the truly noble discipline."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Ihan bowed politely in response to the skeleton principal's words.
Though in reality, he let the advice in one ear and out the other.
For Ihan, magic was just a means to climb the ladder—not an end goal.
Hmm. Yes. Yes.
The skeleton principal nodded, satisfied.
At first, he'd been baffled that a Wardanaz would even consider joining a church. But now that he saw the bigger picture, he found himself quite intrigued.
"He's no ordinary kid."
The incredible amount of magical power he had, or his ability to sense it—those were secondary.
What truly stood out was his patience—the willingness to do whatever it took to get what he wanted.
And to show that level of patience, despite being from the prestigious Wardanaz family? Fascinating.
"His future looks promising."
Well then, I should go check on the ones locked in the punishment room. Do your best, Wardanaz.
"Thank you. …Wait, what?"
Ihan blinked.
Someone's locked up? Where?
But the skeleton principal was already soaring away into the distance.
He was curious about how many students from the White Tiger Tower had ended up in the punishment room, but first things first—visiting the churches.
"Where are you off to?"
Yoner, who had returned holding a basket, asked curiously.
"Frisinga Church…"
"Ah. The Frisinga Church. I've always had an interest—"
"…And Kalaso Church."
"??"
"And maybe the Kaporeo Church too? Hmm, probably won't hit them all in one day. Might be a bit too obvious. I'll rotate weekly—one per week."
"..."
Rather than questioning it, Yoner just accepted it.
Ah. Ihan just wants to try believing in, like, three gods. Cool.
"Here. Take this."
Yoner pulled out a sandwich from the basket and handed it to him.
It was packed—ham, tomato, lettuce, chopped boiled egg, all between fluffy white bread.
A sandwich so good that freshmen might literally kill each other for it if tossed into a hungry crowd.
"Thanks. Hmm. How much is it?"
"…It's free…"
"What? Seriously? Why? What's the catch?"
"It's not really my place to say this... but do you know you're seriously weird? I'm giving this to you because I was grateful for your help yesterday. Come on, eat up."
At Yoner's words, Ihan simply nodded and accepted it. He was hungry, after all.
As Ihan eagerly chewed on the sandwich, Yoner poured him some chilled apple juice and handed it over.
Gulp—
"By the way, where did this come from?"
"Isn't that usually the first thing people ask? I got it from the Flemang Church. Our family's been close with them for a long time."
The God of Alchemy, Flemang.
Every priest in that church was a skilled alchemist.
Yoner's family, the Makin family, had long provided generous support to the Flemang Church.
Thanks to that, the priests recognized Yoner and filled his basket with various treats.
'Seriously, what was the Wardanaz family doing all this time, not even supporting any churches?'
Ihan couldn't help but be impressed by the foresight of the Makin family.
Support like that clearly paid off in the long run.
"…It's kind of weird, right?"
"What is?"
When Yoner hesitated, Ihan tilted his head in confusion.
Was he talking about the sandwich-juice combo?
"I mean… supporting the Flemang Church. I actually do believe in Flemang too…"
Just like how Gainando got punched after asking, "Is alchemy even real magic?", there were plenty of snobbish mages who looked down on alchemists.
Sometimes, people would even criticize noble families for supporting the Flemang Church, saying things like "A great imperial house backing such a disgraceful church?"
But Ihan didn't care about that in the slightest.
"Why shouldn't you support them?"
"…Right?!"
Yoner's face lit up. Smiling from ear to ear, he poured Ihan another glass of apple juice.
"Drink more."
"Huh? There's still some lef—"
Yoner had been worried that Ihan might have a hard time fitting into the Blue Dragon Tower because of his eccentric personality.
But now that this boy was standing in front of him, Yoner felt like maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.
"Um, I came to learn more about Lord Frisinga."
"!"
As Ihan approached, the priests lifted their heads and immediately lit up.
"Welcome, brother! You've come to hear about Lord Frisinga? You're very welcome here!"
"Yes. I've heard all sorts of things about Frisinga for some time now, and I've long admired such a noble deity."
Ihan spoke with a respectful tone, carefully hiding his true intentions.
Even if he was grumbling internally, on the outside he knew how to maintain a look of sincere reverence—that's what it meant to be a grad student.
And Ihan's ability to keep a straight face was second to none.
Naturally, the priests were completely charmed by his demeanor.
A boy who looked every bit the refined noble from a great house, coming here with such sincerity? Incredible.
"Come in, come in! Tijiling, could you help us out?"
"Y-Yes, I'm coming…"
"!"
Ihan was taken aback. The student the priests had called over looked… unfamiliar.
Dark crimson-tinted skin, two horns sprouting from the forehead, and eyes that seemed to flicker with fire before averting his gaze timidly.
'A demon half-blood!'
Among the mixed-race groups, demon-blooded individuals were the rarest. Ihan had only heard of them in stories—this was his first time seeing one.
If someone in a family's lineage had once made a pact with a demon, a descendant might, even generations later, be born showing its effects.
Naturally, most people found such individuals unsettling. And perhaps because of that, the demon-blooded girl moved nervously, as if constantly on guard.
"This is Tijiling, also a new student. She belongs to the Tower of the Ever-Burning Phoenix."
The priests introduced her proudly.
Students from the Phoenix Tower rarely interacted with others, but here she was, stepping up to help at the priests' request.
"How touching. To think I'd find someone who believes in Lord Frisinga here as well… Truly, Frisinga's glory knows no bounds."
"Brother!"
Even Ihan's half-hearted compliments had the priests beaming with joy.
'But still…'
Once inside the tent, Ihan looked around.
There were two key things to check before joining any church:
What do you get out of joining?
What will you be expected to do once you're in?
He didn't want to join some weird group and end up flogging himself at every gathering.
'This church tent is quite humble.'
The inside was plain. A few long benches, and an altar at the front displaying what looked like Frisinga's symbol.
You could call it modest—perhaps even boring—but Ihan felt something was off.
'Isn't this… too many artifacts?'
The tent was packed with items radiating magical energy.
Even the smallest enchanted artifact was expensive and hard to come by.
But this tent was crawling with them.
And the priests didn't even look like the extravagant type...
'Didn't they say Frisinga is a god who supports the world through self-sacrifice? Is this god somehow linked to artifact creation?'
Step, step, step.
A short, thin priest approached Ihan, ready to explain.
"...?"
Amazingly, with every step the priest took, deep footprints were left imprinted in the ground. Ihan's eyes widened in shock.
"Ah, did that surprise you, brother?"
The priest smiled as he noticed Ihan's reaction.
"There's no need to be alarmed. It's because of the artifact I'm wearing. This is a cursed artifact, brother. It increases my weight several times over, but in return, it also enhances the amount of divine power I can channel."
"Ah… did you perhaps accidentally equip it while dungeon exploring or adventuring?"
"No, I wear it to honor Lord Frisinga."
"??"
"Lord Frisinga is the one who sacrifices Himself to support the world. In the same way, shouldn't we also make sacrifices, brother? Every time we wear one of the world's cursed artifacts, the curse upon the world is lessened."
The Church of Frisinga.
To honor the god burdened with the eternal curse of carrying the world, its priests intentionally wore cursed artifacts.
Unlike most divine magic, their holy power did not cleanse the curses within artifacts.
Instead, it had an extreme effect—enhancing both the artifact's power and its curse.
As the realization dawned, the color slowly drained from Ihan's face.
He regretted everything.
"I must've lost my mind… Listening to the principal like that."
He'd been swept up in the warmth of their earlier conversation. But now, the sheer madness radiating from this church was overwhelming.
A group that deliberately wore cursed artifacts as part of daily life?
"...It seems this doesn't quite sit well with you, brother."
This priest was no fool.
Even though Ihan had maintained a neutral expression, he'd seen through it immediately.
"No, no… I'm just… overwhelmed with joy…"
"It's alright, brother. The path of devotion to Lord Frisinga is indeed a difficult and grueling one. If you've changed your mind, even now, you're free to walk away. I understand."
The priest offered a wistful smile.
Ihan felt a bit guilty—but still, he subtly glanced toward the location of the tent's exit. Just in case the priest suddenly tried to stop him.
"This cursed belt was something I meant to offer to any new brother, as a gesture of welcome… But once I explain it, they all leave. Which is understandable. A belt cursed to absorb your mana—who would want such a thing?"
"…Wait. What exactly does it do?"