Chapter 129: Temple Of The Sun
"It’s a good thing you two didn’t tell Oliver about the creature calling Damien the blessed child."
Morgana’s voice was calm, but there was a deliberate weight behind it.
Damien blinked. "And why is that?" He glanced sideways at Noah. It had been Noah’s idea to leave that detail out in the first place, and he still hadn’t fully understood the reason.
"Because the moment that information reaches the wrong ears, your life becomes significantly more complicated," Morgana said, her eyes fixed on Damien. "The temple will come looking for you. They will assign you duties you never asked for, obligations you didn’t agree to. And depending on how seriously they take it, they may attempt to bring you to the Holy Region entirely."
Damien straightened. "What? Seriously?"
"Yes." She folded her hands on the desk. "They might start addressing you as a Hero. Or a Lord. Perhaps even a Saint."
Noah turned to look at Damien with a flat expression, like he was watching someone slowly realize something everyone else had already figured out.
"You do know that Lyria is from the Holy Region," Noah said. "Her father is Pope of the temple."
"Hmm." Damien nodded slowly. "I know that."
"Then ask her about it. Anything she knows about a blessed child of the Sun — what it means, what it entails. All of it."
"Yes," Morgana agreed, her tone carrying quiet approval. "Do that. They are people of deep faith. They would understand the significance of this better than anyone else."
"Okay," Damien said. "I’ll ask her."
"And one more thing." Morgana’s gaze sharpened. "What I told you today — about those creatures beneath the dungeon. That does not leave this room. Do not breathe a word of it to anyone."
"Of course."
"Yeah, we won’t say anything," Noah added.
She studied them both for a moment, then gave a short nod, satisfied.
"You can go now. If anything important comes up, I’ll contact you both."
They stepped out of Morgana’s cabin and into the quiet Sunday air of the academy grounds. The door shut behind them with a soft click.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
"That was a lot to take in," Damien muttered, exhaling slowly. He looked genuinely drained, not physically, but the kind of tired that came from hearing too much heavy information in too short a time.
Noah walked beside him, hands in his pockets.
"Still can’t believe we were fighting directly above thousands of sleeping monsters," Damien said, shaking his head. "I really hope they don’t wake up."
"They won’t," Noah said. "And even if they do, those creatures aren’t overwhelmingly powerful. We were able to handle one of them ourselves. A group of strong adults could clear them without much trouble." He paused briefly. "The only problem is the location. Being this close to the city would cause panic. Damage. That’s the real concern."
"Yeah." Damien let out a breath. "I just hope it gets resolved before anything like that happens."
A short silence passed between them as they walked.
"So," Damien glanced at him. "Where are you heading now? Want to come train? We could spar."
Noah thought about it for a moment, genuinely considering. Then he shook his head.
"Not today. There’s somewhere I want to go." He glanced at Damien. "Sorry."
"No worries." Damien shrugged easily. "But next time, come with me. Proper sparring session."
"Deal."
They parted ways at the next crossroads. Damien turned toward the training grounds, and Noah continued forward, toward the academy gates.
---
Just a short distance from the academy, positioned as though it had always belonged there, stood a building unlike anything else in the surrounding area.
The Temple of the Sun God.
From the outside alone it was something to stop and stare at. The entire structure was built in white and gold, pristine and luminous, as though it had been touched by light and simply refused to let it go. Tall spires rose on either side, catching the afternoon sun and throwing soft glimmers across the surrounding stone path.
Carved along the outer walls were intricate patterns. Rays of light, open wings, circular emblems that radiated outward like the sun itself frozen in architecture.
Broad stone steps led up to the main entrance, flanked on both sides by tall pillars wrapped in delicate gold detailing.
It looked less like a building and more like something that had descended rather than been constructed.
Noah stood at the bottom of the steps and looked up.
"Damn," he said quietly. "This looks really pure. Beautiful. And expensive."
He stood there for another moment, just taking it in, then climbed the steps and walked inside.
The interior stopped him almost immediately.
The ceiling soared high above, arched and painted in soft ivory and pale gold.
Thin beams of natural light poured through tall stained glass windows that lined both walls, each one depicting a different scene — figures with radiant halos, sunbursts cracking open dark skies, hands reaching upward toward blazing light. The colored light filtered through and fell across the polished white floor in quiet, shifting patterns.
Rows of smooth wooden benches were arranged in neat lines, dark and warm-toned against the pale surroundings, worn smooth at the edges from years of use. The faint scent of something clean, like warm stone and melted wax, drifted through the air.
Everything was hushed.
At the far end of the hall, where an altar might have stood in another place of worship, there was instead a single white pillar.
And carved into its surface, unmistakable and glowing faintly in the filtered light, was a sun. Broad rays stretching outward from a perfect circle, carved deep and precise into the stone.
There were only a handful of people inside. A few seated silently in the benches, heads bowed.
An elderly man near the side aisle standing with his eyes closed. The atmosphere was calm in a way that was difficult to describe, like the building itself was breathing slowly.
"Wow," Noah said under his breath.
He hadn’t expected this. He had come out of curiosity, following an impulse after everything he had heard today. But standing here now, surrounded by all of this, the visit felt less like a detour and more like something that made sense.
His eyes moved slowly across the space.
Then they stopped.
Seated in the very first row, closest to the carved pillar, was a familiar figure.
’There she is. As I expected.’
Lyria sat with her back straight and her hands folded gently in her lap. Her blonde hair was pulled into a single braid that rested over her right shoulder, neat and unhurried, giving her an air that was both gentle and quietly composed.
She was dressed simply, a white blouse, a black skirt. Nothing elaborate, nothing that demanded attention.
She looked like this was where she belonged here.
Noah stood watching her for a moment from a short distance, a small, easy smile crossing his face.
Then he began walking toward her.
Noah walked further inside, his footsteps quiet against the polished floor.
He made his way toward the front, stopping before the white pillar with the carved sun. He stood there for a moment, looking at it. Then, somewhat awkwardly, he pressed his hands together and bowed his head.
He wasn’t entirely sure how one was supposed to pray here. He didn’t follow any particular faith. But he closed his eyes anyway and stood still for a few seconds, making an honest attempt at it.
Or at least something that resembled an honest attempt.
Either way, he stayed there quietly for a moment longer than expected. Not performing. Just... still.
When he opened his eyes and lifted his head, he turned slightly to the side.
Lyria was looking at him.
There was a faint surprise in her expression, a quiet widening of those soft pink eyes, like she hadn’t expected to see a familiar face here, let alone this particular one.
She recovered quickly, her expression settling back into its usual gentle calm.
Noah offered her a small smile.
He stepped away from the pillar and walked over to where she was seated in the front row. She watched him approach without saying anything.
"Hello, Lyria."
The corner of her lips curved upward, soft and gentle.
"Hello, Noah." She tilted her head slightly.
"It’s surprising to see you here."
He sat down beside her, leaving a respectful amount of space between them. For a moment he didn’t say anything, his gaze drifting forward toward the carved sun on the pillar. The light coming through the stained glass windows fell gently across the floor in front of them.
Then his expression shifted. Just slightly. Something quieter moved behind his eyes.
"Yeah," he said. "There were some things... weighing on me." A brief pause. "So I thought I’d come and seek some peace. At the Lord’s place."
Of course Noah was lying here.
Lyria looked at him for a moment longer than usual. The surprise returned, softer this time, not at the fact that he was here, but at what he had just said. She hadn’t expected that from him.
She nodded gently.
"You did right by coming here," she said sincerely. "This place has a way of settling things that are difficult to carry alone."
Noah didn’t respond to that directly. He just gave a small nod, his eyes still ahead.
A comfortable silence passed between them, easy and unforced.
