On one side of the temple square, the hour hand on the clock tower had just ticked past three o'clock.
The mild afternoon warmth of the Ikerite summer cast a faint glow over the ancient gray flagstones. Under the sanctuary of the divine statues, several massive oak trees grew around the perimeter of the square, their luxuriant foliage providing a cool and comfortable haven along its edge.
The great gates of the temple stood half open. Creeping green vines clung tightly to the carved pillars, watching over this sacred ground in silence like witnesses to history itself.
Beneath the canopy of the great trees, words were scarcely needed between the two of them. That single embrace earlier had been more than enough to express the years of longing and the joy of their reunion.
Yet once the floodgates opened, their conversation seemed impossible to stop.
From funny stories of the past to their recent circumstances, the time passed to the sound of Loren's tales and Florence's soft chuckles.
In the blink of an eye, it felt as though this very moment could last forever.
[Keep an eye on the time.]
The Love Drillmaster's voice came through.
"..."
Hearing this, Loren snapped out of it as if waking from a dream.
"Florence, I need to get back to the temple. Almis has already called for me several times!" Loren said with an apologetic tone.
Much as he longed to keep talking with his close friend, he was out of time.
"Oh, go on, then." Florence waved her hand with an understanding smile.
She was well aware of how impossibly busy Loren had been lately.
Seeing that he was doing well was enough to put her mind at ease.
"Be careful not to overwork yourself. And if you ever feel like talking to someone, you can reach out to me anytime. No matter how you feel, I'm your comrade," Florence gently added.
"Florence..."
Loren gazed at her, his eyes brimming with emotion.
"If I could, I'd want to spend every single day with you. You truly are my soulmate."
He shook his head reluctantly, lamenting that he could only spend this brief moment with his dearest friend.
"Is that so..."
Florence lowered her gaze and turned her eyes away.
Her reaction left Loren blinking, eyeing her with confusion.
As if sensing his gaze, Florence looked back up, flashed a wide grin, and patted his shoulder, as though urging him on his way.
"Hurry along and get to work. You've got this!" Florence said.
"Yeah."
Loren nodded, bid Florence farewell, and made his way toward the temple of the Church of the Goddess of Fate nestled along the moat.
Before long, after his silhouette flickered through several short teleports, the ethereal sanctuary forged by a thousand years of faith appeared before him.
In the heart of Ikerite's northern district, beside a clear river surrounded by woods, stood a magnificent temple—the church stronghold Loren frequented most often aside from Ikerite Academy.
Following the instructor's guidance, all he had to do was tell both Florence and Almis the honest truth.
Leaving Florence was to attend to business, and excusing himself from Almis had been to take a rest. Not a single word of it was a lie.
His footsteps carried him past the grand gates of the sanctuary.
As the blazing natural sunlight filtered through the window grilles onto the white reliefs, the depictions of the various deities seemed to shimmer, giving him the illusion that they were acting out ancient legends.
"Instructor, do I still have enough time?"
Loren felt the brilliant light was somewhat glaring—perhaps out of a guilty conscience. Refocusing his mind, he asked as he strode deeper into the temple.
[Time isn't an issue at all.]
"Then what is?" Loren asked, a bit nervous.
From the drillmaster's tone, it sounded as though the other shoe had yet to drop.
[Remember when you promised Florence, 'Once you're not busy next time, we'll hang out again'?]
"Yeah."
[Do you consider that a promise for a date?]
"Not really. Isn't it totally normal to hang out with a good bro?"
[...Never mind. Good luck next time.]
The Love Drillmaster muttered to himself with what sounded like a sense of duty, yet also like a man holding his tongue.
"What do you mean by that?"
Much as Loren trusted the Love Drillmaster, a wave of unease inevitably washed over him.
Had he slipped up somewhere without realizing it?
It was just like studying—if you made a mistake and had no idea what went wrong, you could never hope to improve.
[It's nothing. You are immensely gifted, even beyond my wildest imagination. What look like plain, unadorned basic attacks actually carry built-in armor penetration and critical strikes. Just follow your instincts. Following me to the letter might end up hindering your natural talent instead.]
[I'll smooth everything out for you, so just go ahead and date with peace of mind. Unless something happens to me one day, I guarantee nothing will happen to you.]
The Love Drillmaster made this solemn promise.
"Instructor..." Loren murmured into the other end of the communication, profoundly moved.
He traversed the solemn, tranquil depths of the temple. Pure white stone pillars rose majestically throughout the great hall, and the farther in he went, the clearer the sound of his own footsteps became.
When Loren arrived before the massive door of the temple's classified records chamber, he felt as though he were standing on the threshold of another world.
He knocked lightly on the door, crafted from an alternating lattice of pure white jade and deep gray stone.
"Enter."
A soft voice, like the first frost of winter, drifted from within.
Loren pushed open the heavy stone door. Before him lay an office with towering ceilings reminiscent of a cathedral, its walls lined with white-brick alcoves filled to the brim with canonical tomes of the Church of the Goddess of Fate.
In the meeting area at the center of the hall, a woman with silver hair and silver eyes sat quietly on a sofa. Even at midday, her figure was as pure and flawless as an elf bathed in moonlight.
Were it not for the subtle rise and fall of her breath, it would have been hard to tell whether she was a living creature or a work of art.
"Excuse me. I went to rest this morning, so I'm truly sorry for not answering your messages," Loren said, bowing apologetically to the Ice Snow Witch.
As a half-demon, Chosen Saintess Almis bore no demonic horns. The only demonic trait she possessed was her slightly pointed ears.
She looked far more like an immaculate snow elf than the demons spoken of by common folk.
Though her gaze held only inviolable pride and cold aloofness, holding all living beings at an icy distance, a sliver of kindness lay concealed beneath that exterior.
Seeing that the Ice Snow Witch was not busy with work at the moment, and that a cup of steaming tea rested on the table, Loren felt his racing heart settle slightly. At least her summons today was not an urgent official matter.
"How did it feel hugging Florence?"
The Ice Snow Witch's chilly voice rang out before him.
Loren looked up and found that she had already risen from the sofa. When he met her eyes, he was greeted by a look of thinly veiled disgust.
A sudden chill ran down his spine.
Wait, that wasn't right.
What was wrong with hugging Florence?
Could it be that, in the Ice Snow Witch's eyes, such a gesture between men was considered bizarre?
"It felt pretty good," Loren answered with certainty.
"..."
The look in the Ice Snow Witch's eyes grew infinitely more complicated.
Was her understanding of humans fundamentally flawed, or did Loren truly believe women were creatures you could simply hug whenever you pleased?
Chapter 627