It may be called the Grand Temple, but it’s far too big to be just a Grand Temple. It felt more like the flagship location of a franchise.
That was Satin’s thought as he stepped down from the carriage—only for his mouth to drop open. It was a massive temple. The one in Cloverland wasn’t exactly small, but this one easily dwarfed it. Its spire looked tall enough to pierce the clouds.
‘So this is Sauron’s Eye…’
He blanked out for a moment and accidentally crossed into the territory of an entirely different novel.
“This way, traveler.”
The voice of a young priest pulled Satin back to reality. Up ahead, Rita and Katrin were already walking on without him. Edward and Cain had also followed them but now paused to glance back at Satin. He was the only one gawking like a country bumpkin at the temple’s scale.
‘I’m supposed to be the most modern one here…’
This was what happened when you’d never been overseas. He’d never had the chance to see a religious structure of this scale before. Awkwardly smiling, Satin hurried after the priest.
He hadn’t been told exactly where the High Priest was waiting, but from the looks of it, they were headed deep inside. Even Katrin’s attendants had stopped following them at some point. In this endless procession, the only non-priests were Rita, Katrin, Edward, Cain, and Satin himself.
‘Wait, Edward’s technically a priest too, right.’
A long corridor. Ceilings that soared overhead. Ivory-colored pillars. He couldn’t even tell where the light was coming from, but everywhere his eyes landed shimmered with a radiant glow.
‘Maybe there’s a prayer kiosk here too…’
Since they’d entered by carriage, he hadn’t had a good look around. But it was probably there.
‘To think you need a number ticket just to pray at such a majestic temple…’
He wasn’t even sure if that was something to feel sorry about.
As Satin let his thoughts wander in every useless direction, the procession finally arrived at its destination. The priests leading the group parted like automatic curtains to either side. Perhaps Rita and Katrin had been here before—they stopped naturally in front of the doors.
“So this is…”
No one had yet explained where this was, but Edward already looked visibly moved. Cain, catching sight of that, took a step back, as if slightly annoyed.
“Two steps back.”
“Huh…?”
It turned out he hadn’t moved away from Edward—he’d moved closer to Satin.
At last, the doors opened. The sudden burst of light made Satin instinctively raise a hand to shield his eyes. The source became clear almost instantly. At the far end of a room that wasn’t very wide but had considerable depth, a giant stained-glass window loomed.
For a moment, the intricate beauty of the stained glass captured his attention—so much so that it took him several seconds to notice the elderly man standing beneath it.
“Was your journey pleasant, Your Highness?”
The old man, standing atop a small dais, slowly stepped forward and asked.
“It almost was. And have you been well, Your Eminence?”
Rita responded in a refined tone. It was a slightly unfamiliar sight, but if she’d used her usual cheerful, informal speech in a setting like this, that would’ve been far more shocking.
“Leave us for a moment.”
At the old man’s words, all the priests—those who’d guided them and even those who had opened the door—filed out obediently. They all seemed around sixteen or seventeen years old, likely apprentice priests. Satin recalled Edward mentioning not long ago that he had just completed his apprenticeship to become a full-fledged priest, and guessed these others must still be in training.
Once the door shut, the old man gave them a gentle smile.
“There’s no proper place to sit, so I won’t make this a long conversation.”
“It’d still be nicer to sit down for even a short one, though.”
With fewer eyes watching, Rita’s tone lightened a bit. Katrin, instead of the old man, responded with a small cough of disapproval—but Rita ignored her and got straight to the point.
“You wouldn’t have summoned us like this unless it were urgent. What’s going on?”
“You truly have no idea?”
“I have some guesses, but I’d rather hear it straight from you.”
The old man hadn’t introduced himself, but everyone present already knew who he was. The High Priest. The one who had received the divine message firsthand—perhaps even the one who had been commanded to spread it. If someone like him had gone so far as to summon them personally, then whatever he was about to say couldn’t be ordinary.
The High Priest’s gaze flicked briefly toward the stained glass behind him. It was only for a moment. Apparently uninterested in dragging things out despite the gravity of the issue, he turned to Rita and spoke.
“Your Highness must save the nation.”
So abrupt, so concise—it left not only Rita but the entire group momentarily speechless.
Fortunately, that wasn’t all the old man had to say.
“It doesn’t have to be Your Highness who saves the nation—but it would certainly be better if you were involved.”
“Better how?”
“Public perception. Wouldn’t it help to have a royal who has the people’s support? The Temple and the royal family are intrinsically linked, after all, so naturally, it benefits us too… In that sense, the combination is excellent. A royal, a priest—and just the two of them would look too staged, so we’ve also included an ordinary citizen.”
The old man, who had held back his words just moments ago, now rattled them off as if the whole thing had been a joke. Satin struggled to follow the logic all at once.
‘Royalty, priest… and what was that about a citizen?’
Luckily, he wasn’t the only one confused. Edward blinked like he had no idea what was going on, and Cain’s brow furrowed in obvious displeasure.
Only Rita seemed to grasp the meaning of the old man’s words—and she pressed him immediately.
“Wait, what do you mean by staged? And what do you mean combination? Are you talking about us? The four of us?”
“Yes, we’ve been waiting for you. Ever since we were told Your Highness would bring the Hero.”
“The Hero?”
Rita’s eyes darted to the side. If she had been the one to bring the Hero, then by default, that meant she wasn’t the Hero herself. Which left one of the remaining three. But if Edward were the Hero, there would have been no need for Rita to play any special role.
“So then… who…?”
Her eyes moved between Cain and Satin. Without thinking, Satin patted Cain’s back.
‘Of course it’s him. What’s there to be confused about?’
Rita’s gaze stopped on Cain, clearly catching Satin’s gesture. Cain was frowning, but his wavering eyes revealed his unease.
‘Even a protagonist often doesn’t realize they’re the protagonist.’
And yet—at that very moment, the old man waved his hand dismissively.
“It’s not him. The Hero is standing beside him.”
Rita turned to Satin. Cain also shifted his gaze toward him, and Edward’s eyes went wide in disbelief. Even Katrin, who had accompanied them all the way here without knowing the full details, looked shocked.
Satin was stunned too—but had nowhere to look.
“…Me? Me?”
The old man didn’t respond. He simply stepped forward. Flustered, Satin looked around, hoping someone would step in—but everyone else was frozen in place.
‘Why the hell am I the Hero?’
No matter how twisted the story had gotten, this couldn’t be right. He’d accepted he might die as an irregular, a disposable side character—but now they were talking full-time employment? It had to be a mistake.
Satin was certain the old man had gotten something wrong. In hindsight, the monsters they’d faced did seem suspiciously clumsy. Clearly something had gotten tangled up—and tangled badly.
But even with that belief, he couldn’t bring himself to protest aloud. Despite Satin’s visible panic, the old man showed not even a sliver of doubt. Then again, someone at the level of High Priest wouldn’t be second-guessing his faith.
The old man finally stopped in front of Satin. This time, not even Cain tried to intervene. Maybe he figured now wasn’t the time.
“I’ve long wished to meet you.”
His tone toward Satin was just as respectful as it had been with Rita. Satin, drenched in sweat, waved his hands nervously.
“N-no, I—I might not be the right person! Maybe you’re mistaken, sir…”
“You say the funniest things.”
“M-maybe you got the description wrong…”
“Hero, I do not make mistakes. Humans are flawed, yes. We sometimes misinterpret the will of the gods. But I am not like them. I receive the divine message exactly as it is meant to be.”
“But seriously, I mean…”
Satin opened his mouth, then shut it again. No matter what he said, it wouldn’t change anything. His energy drained all at once.
Seeing that Satin had stopped denying it, the old man’s expression softened even more. To him, Satin must have looked like someone finally accepting his fate.
“I know that you alone are capable of resolving what’s to come. All these trials were prepared by the gods for you—to reveal you.”
The word reveal wasn’t meant in the sense of being exhausted—it meant to display, to present. In other words, the old man believed that the divine disturbances had been orchestrated for Satin’s appearance.
It wasn’t far off from what Satin himself had suspected—except he had always assumed it was all happening around Cain, not him.
‘Does this make any sense at all?’
While Satin remained silent, the old man filled the space with his own assumptions. Probably all of them were wrong, but Satin didn’t say a word. Everyone in the room looked surprised—but no one seemed to doubt it. Even Cain had a strangely resigned look, like something had just clicked into place.
‘What the hell is clicking for you?’
How could anyone believe that Satin—who had done absolutely nothing up until now—was a Hero?
The old man brought his hands together solemnly.
“Time is of the essence, so I won’t go on. Please, go to where the Demon God awaits.”
Satin blinked.
The Demon God is waiting? What the hell did that mean? Had it already appeared? Did they know where?
Since he didn’t voice these questions, the old man didn’t answer.
“Please, go and ease the people’s fears. We shall prepare a grand welcoming ceremony for your return.”
“A grand…”
Satin muttered the word without thinking—and at that moment, whether by coincidence or divine intent, the stained-glass window behind the dais shimmered. Its multicolored light fell perfectly upon Satin’s head.
Satin rn :