Chapter 562: Chapter 549: Is that your faith?
[Realm: Álfheimr]
[Location: Heart Kingdom]
[Pulchritudo]
Mikoto was still trying to reconcile what he had witnessed.
A church.
Not merely a building with old stones and symbols, not just another organization hiding behind a name or using faith as a means to control others.
A church that genuinely worshipped God.
The thought alone felt strangely out of place.
His red eyes remained fixed on the interior of the building, quietly observing the scene unfolding before him. The old wooden pews that no doubt held years of suffering and prayer were no longer filled with sermons alone. Instead, they had become a place of temporary relief for those who had nowhere else to turn.
Near the front of the church, a line had formed behind a worn wooden table. The priest and the young nun stood together, calmly handing out portions of bread and small bowls of warm soup to the demi-humans waiting before them.
There was no hesitation in their movements.
They simply offered the food as though every person standing before them deserved the same kindness.
Mikoto watched silently for a moment longer than he intended.
The sight was familiar.
And yet, somehow, completely foreign.
"So they boast of a charity as well," Robert mused beside him, his gaze moving between the people receiving food and the state of the church around them. "With the amount of food they’re giving out, you’d think this place would be in better condition."
His eyes moved across the cracked stone floors, the aging wooden walls, and the faded decorations that had clearly endured years of neglect.
"It is strange," Robert continued. "They appear willing to give what little they have away, yet they seem to possess so little themselves."
Mikoto’s expression remained unreadable as he looked toward the old church.
"This church could be considered blasphemy to some," Mikoto murmured.
Robert turned slightly toward him.
"Because it doesn’t worship Iofiel." The answer was obvious once spoken aloud.
A brief silence followed.
"Ah," realization slowly dawned across Robert’s face. His emerald eyes moved back toward the worn building, taking in its isolated position and damaged appearance with a new understanding. "I suppose that would explain much."
His expression became more thoughtful.
"If Iofiel is the only accepted faith here, then a church devoted to another God would not exactly be welcomed." Robert glanced around again. "This place was most likely attacked a good number of times." His gaze eventually returned to Mikoto. "But what did you mean earlier when you said the ’highest power?’ "
For a moment, Mikoto did not answer.
His eyes remained on the people in front of him. The demi-humans were receiving food. The priest is offering kindness despite everything around him. The nun was smiling despite the state of everything around her.
Then, quietly, he spoke.
"The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands."
Robert blinked.
The response clearly was not what he expected; he stared at Mikoto for a moment, confusion slowly forming on his face.
"That was surprisingly specific."
Mikoto ignored the comment.
"I wouldn’t be able to properly describe exactly what God is," he continued, his voice quieter than before. "Not completely. Not even considering what I am." His gaze lowered slightly. "But he is someone countless people believe in. Someone countless people worship. The one true absolute being."
There was something different in the way Mikoto spoke.
Usually, his words carried a bite. The certainty of someone who knew his own strength and had little reason to doubt himself. But now there was something else beneath them, Robert noticed.
The boy who casually threatened the Mother of Monsters and spoke about impossible amounts of power seemed strangely careful when speaking about this.
"That is quite the amount of praise," Robert admitted. "Calling something the one true absolute being is no small claim."
He looked back toward the priest.
"But considering how reverent that man appeared, I suppose such belief is warranted."
Robert paused.
His eyes shifted back to Mikoto.
Because for the briefest moment, he saw it.
A shadow, a dark expression that crossed Mikoto’s face before disappearing almost immediately. It was not anger, not exactly. It was something far harder to understand. A strange mixture of familiarity and distance.
Robert opened his mouth, prepared to ask what caused that reaction.
But before he could, Mikoto’s attention shifted elsewhere.
Someone else had approached the table.
The final person in line, a small figure wearing a red hood, their face mostly hidden beneath the fabric. They accepted the bread and soup quietly before quickly stepping away from the others, almost as if they wished not to be noticed.
Mikoto’s eyes followed them.
For a brief moment, his expression changed, then he moved. Without saying anything, he stepped forward and began walking deeper into the church.
Robert noticed immediately and followed after him.
"Of course," Robert muttered quietly to himself as he walked beside him. "The moment something catches his attention, he moves."
The two continued forward.
Naturally, entering deeper into the church drew attention.
The sound of quiet conversations faded slightly as several demi-humans turned their heads. And, as Robert had already come to expect, the attention quickly centered on Mikoto.
The reactions varied; some stared in surprise, others looked fascinated. Some seemed unable to hide their admiration. Even among those who had endured hardship and had likely seen countless people throughout their lives, Mikoto’s presence still drew their eyes.
It was difficult not to notice him.
The beauty of his appearance alone made him stand out. Someone who looked almost impossibly delicate and beautiful, yet carried himself with something far beyond ordinary people.
The priest and nun noticed the approaching pair as well.
Their expressions shifted slightly, though not with hostility, only curiosity. They watched as Mikoto approached the table.
"Greeting, Father," Mikoto spoke first. His voice was polite and almost gentle.
He came to a stop before the priest, offering a level of respect that Robert never saw from him.
Robert could not help but raise a brow.
That tone, that carefully chosen way of speaking. It was completely different from the Mikoto who threatened people without hesitation or dismissed entire conversations with a single sentence. The boy’s voice carried a pleasant warmth, almost naturally soothing despite the fact he was clearly not forcing it.
Robert studied him carefully.
("Interesting,") he thought.
He had seen Mikoto act arrogant; he had seen him act annoyed and act indifferent.
But this?
This was something else entirely.
Robert narrowed his eyes slightly.
("Just what are you planning this time?")
"Oh my..."
The words escaped the nun before she could stop them.
For a moment, the calm expression she had maintained throughout the church slipped. Her blue eyes widened slightly as she looked at Mikoto, surprise openly crossing her features.
It was not merely because of his appearance.
She had seen many kinds of people come through the doors of the church. Those carrying themselves with arrogance; desperate travellers searching for shelter; frightened demi-humans seeking somewhere safe; and countless others carrying their own burdens.
But this was different.
There was something almost unreal about him.
The nun quickly realised she had been staring and lowered her gaze slightly, composing herself.
The pastor, however, managed to hide his reaction better.
No doubt, experience dealing with all manner of people allowed him to maintain his composure. Though even he could not completely hide the brief flicker of surprise in his eyes before he settled into a polite smile.
"Ah, new faces." His voice was warm and welcoming, carrying naturally through the church. "Would this be the first time you have graced this humble church of ours?"
Mikoto tilted his head slightly.
"That’s right." His tone remained polite, almost strangely so compared to his usual blunt manner. "Baron Fredrick directed us here. He mentioned something about someone here being a talented artist."
The pastor blinked once.
Then a quiet laugh escaped him.
"Oh." There was clear amusement in his voice. "Fredrick is quite eccentric where it counts." The older man shook his head lightly, though his expression remained fond rather than annoyed. "I imagine he was rather stunned when he saw you."
A brief pause followed.
"Forgive me for speaking so plainly, but I suspect your beauty was what caught his attention first."
Mikoto’s lips curved slightly.
"He said much the same thing when he sent me here." His response was casual, almost as if he had grown accustomed to hearing such comments. "Though I will admit..." His eyes moved around the church once more. "Colour me surprised. To find a place like this here."
His gaze wandered across the old walls, the faded paintings, the worn wooden pews, and the symbols that clearly belonged to another faith. For a moment, Mikoto seemed less interested in the building itself and more interested in understanding the impossible existence of it.
Then his eyes stopped.
A painting hanging upon the wall.
The image depicted a graceful blonde figure with two black wings extending from his back. He wore a simple blue chest piece, his expression calm and resolute as he raised a sword high above his head. Below him stood a demonic figure, appearing to be overcome beneath the Angel’s presence.
Mikoto studied the painting silently.
Then he spoke.
"Say, Father," the pastor looked towards him. "Is that Michael?"
The question caused the atmosphere to shift.
The nun’s expression changed immediately.
Her surprise returned.
"You know of this faith?" Her question was quiet, but there was genuine astonishment behind it.
The pastor looked at Mikoto as well, his polite expression becoming more curious. For someone who had entered the church only moments ago, Mikoto had already recognised one of their most important figures.
The pastor followed Mikoto’s gaze back towards the painting.
"I see..." He took a moment before answering. "The Archangel Michael." His voice carried a certain reverence. "And his mighty flaming sword." The pastor’s eyes softened as he looked upon the image. "One of God’s greatest servants." A short pause followed. "God’s strongest."
Then he turned back towards Mikoto.
"But how did you..."
He stopped himself.
There were too many questions.
How did someone from this world know a faith that should have been foreign? How did someone recognise a figure that almost no one outside their church would know?
The pastor watched him carefully, waiting.
Mikoto noticed the attention.
For once, he did not immediately answer.
Instead, he simply smiled.
It was a small expression, but it carried a strange effect. The moment it appeared, it changed the atmosphere around him. Even those nearby who had been trying not to stare found their attention drawn back towards him. There was no arrogance in the smile or any attempt to charm.
It was simply natural.
"I should introduce myself. My name is—"
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