Saint Selena Church

Saint Selena Church on Red Moon Street was the Tingen City headquarters of the Church of the Night Goddess. Together with the Church of the Lord of Storms' River and Sea Cathedral in Tingen's Northern District, and the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery's Saint Number Cathedral in the suburbs, it upheld the religious sphere of Tingen City and its surrounding towns and villages.

Many of the passengers who had gotten off the Public Carriage on Red Moon Street had come to the church to pray.

Drawn by the bells, Angel temporarily forgot the urgency of fleeing for her life. She followed the sidewalk past the central square and arrived at the fan-shaped stairs before Saint Selena Church.

The church was Gothic in style, very similar to the Church of Light cathedrals Angel had seen in her previous life. But it was entirely black. Buttresses on both sides supported the main structure, while its front windows were assembled from red and blue glass, clustered around the central projecting section. Above it all rose a tall bell tower.

The prominent section held an arched main entrance, through which quite a few worshippers were coming and going.

Of Tingen's Three Great Churches, Angel was most interested in the Church of the Night Goddess. It was not because she heard Saint Selena Church's bells every day, but because the Goddess Church's followers made the sign of the Crimson Moon over their chests.

It was exactly the same as the holy emblem representing the Sun that he had drawn over his chest when he had been a Templar Knight of the Church of Light.

The Church of the Night Goddess worshipped the Goddess of the Night and revered black, representing the Crimson Moon. This stood in complete opposition to the Church of Light, which revered the Goddess of Light, the Sun, and pure white.

That was far too much of a coincidence.

But considering that this world not only had steam engines and Revolvers, but even had 365 days in a year, this coincidence no longer seemed so remarkable.

Angel climbed the stairs step by step and arrived before Saint Selena Church's main entrance. Simply looking at the solemn cathedral calmed her somewhat restless heart.

She took out a five-pound banknote, approached the donation box beside the entrance, and dropped it in.

The young Pastor on duty nearby seemed unaccustomed to seeing such a generous worshipper. He hurried forward and drew a clockwise Crimson Moon over his chest. "Praise the Goddess. Thank you for your generosity, beautiful lady."

"Praise the Goddess. Compared to this precious peace, it is nothing." Angel copied his gesture, drawing a Crimson Moon as she replied.

She had only intended to take out a few coins, but for some reason, when she reached into her pocket, she had pulled out a large-denomination banknote instead.

Still, it was truly what she felt. Before the church, she had indeed enjoyed a moment of tranquility. Thinking that what awaited her might be an endless journey of escape, this peaceful moment was exceptionally precious.

"Madam, you seem troubled by something. If you have the time, why not visit the church's Confessional? Perhaps listening to the Goddess's teachings may answer your doubts."

Was her condition really that obvious? Angel touched her head in confusion and discovered that her hood had somehow fallen down, exposing her worried expression to the attentive Pastor.

As for the confession he mentioned, Angel had originally planned to leave after donating some money, but the Pastor's persuasion changed her mind.

"I'll consider it a way to earn back those five pounds," she found an excuse for herself.

Angel thanked the Pastor and entered the church through the main entrance. Flanked by tall two-colored glass windows, the vestibule appeared narrow and dark. The Sun had already set outside, and Crimson Moonlight streamed through the glass onto the floor, bewitching and profound.

She passed through the cramped vestibule and entered the Prayer Hall. The Mass had ended some time ago, and most people had already left. Seven or eight worshippers sat scattered around the hall. Some bowed their heads with closed eyes in prayer, some stared blankly ahead, and some covered their faces and muttered to themselves.

After weaving past the neat rows of pews, she reached the Confessional at the side of the Prayer Hall just as its door opened from within. A middle-aged man emerged, wearing a dazed expression and unfocused eyes. He nearly bumped into Angel outside the door. It seemed his earlier confession had not resolved the confusion in his heart.

Only after watching him walk away slowly did Angel enter the narrow Confessional. She shut the door behind her and sat on a wooden chair with a backrest.

A candle rested on the rail before her. In the dim candlelight, a deep male voice came from behind the partition. "My child, what would you like to say?"

Yes, what did she want to say? Angel asked herself.

That she came from another world and had unfortunately possessed the body of a wicked dead woman who had brought ruin upon herself?

That she had just resolved her identity problem and was preparing to settle down in this world, only to be frightened into fleeing far away by a single letter?

After choosing her words carefully, Angel slowly said:

"When faced with evil, I chose to retreat. I did not hold to my principles."

She vaguely voiced her confusion.

Fortunately, the bishop presiding over the confession was accustomed to people speaking in riddles. After a moment of silence, he continued, "Was this matter beyond your capabilities?"

"Yes. There might be a slight chance, but I do not think there is much hope."

"Then have you tried seeking help from other forces?"

Was he suggesting that she call the police? Angel paused before answering, "That is precisely what troubles me. I long to defeat it, but I fear exposing myself and drawing others' attention. Would that go against the Goddess's teachings?"

"Fear is a human instinct. Those who overcome instinct are worthy of praise, but those who follow their hearts will not be reproached for it either. The Goddess..."

The bishop's voice seemed to grow more and more distant. His final sentence was almost inaudible. Angel leaned forward toward the partition. "What did you say?"

The candle before her suddenly went out, plunging the Confessional into darkness.

A chill ran down Angel's back. Instinctively, she flung aside her cloak and reached for the holster strapped to her thigh, retreating at the same time in an attempt to move farther from the partition.

"The Goddess says that those who courageously step forward in the face of fear shall be rewarded." A soaring voice, completely different from that of the bishop presiding over the confession, echoed through the cramped Confessional. Its gender was impossible to distinguish, and Angel could not tell where it came from.

"Who is that?" Angel shouted. Her hand had already found the gun's grip, yet she did not dare draw it. The visitor's strange movements and formidable strength left her unable to even think of resisting.

No answer came from the darkness.

Her vision blurred, and light returned to the Confessional. Angel discovered that she was still sitting quietly in her chair, her hands folded on her lap. The bishop's deep voice sounded as pleasant as heavenly music. "...will forgive her honest followers."

Aside from the cold sweat on her back, that strange darkness just now seemed like an illusion.

Seeing her frozen in place, the bishop concluded the confession. "Follow your heart. There is no need to feel guilty or uneasy."

I came here to confess precisely because my heart is wavering... Angel answered inwardly.

She recalled the day in her previous life when she had received baptism at Saint Charles Cathedral and become a Templar Knight. She had sworn to fight all evil in the world; after passing the trials and joining the Church's armed forces, she had gone from initial confusion to resistance when faced with darkness within the organization; when evil invaded the mortal world, she had stepped forward to fight on the front lines.

She had been in this world for less than two days, yet she had nearly forgotten the convictions she had upheld for decades in her previous life.

Was it the confusion of becoming a woman? Her eagerness to obtain a legal identity? Or her helplessness when facing high-ranking Beyonders?

Or was it because she subconsciously believed that she was no longer Angel Gray, the Templar Knight of the past, but Angel Granger, the Beyonder Assassin, and therefore no longer needed to uphold the beliefs she had once held?

"No, I am not running away. This is simply the optimal choice after weighing everything. The police will soon discover the report in the anonymous mailbox, which records Cole Granger's many crimes in detail. Following those clues and evidence, Cole's actions will eventually lead the police to Mrs. Sharon behind him. And because Beyonder powers are involved, the police will notify the Church's Beyonder armed forces to deal with it. If nothing unexpected happens, Mrs. Sharon will be arrested within a week."

One voice in her heart argued like this.

"Do you truly think so? Then why were you going to Backlund to warn Lily Granger, your nominal cousin, to seek the protection of Official Extraordinary?"

"You also believe there is a strong chance Mrs. Sharon will escape legal punishment, don't you? Her network in Tingen City runs deep, and she holds all sorts of secrets about those politicians and Rich Merchants. As long as she is not caught in the act, she has plenty of ways to clear herself. What can the police do to her?"

Another voice mocked her.

"I have already done what I can. The police will know Mrs. Sharon is a Beyonder, and the Church's armed forces will intervene..."

The arguing voice grew increasingly weak.

"This is not monotheistic Earth. Tingen alone has three churches restraining one another. There is a very high chance Mrs. Sharon will become alert and flee during their initial investigation. She can casually produce a Sequence 7 Potion to recruit subordinates, so there may be an even larger force behind her. If you let her escape, prepare to spend the rest of your life living in fear!"

The mocking voice pressed her even harder.

"You know the one-and-done solution too, don't you?"

Yes, she had always known. She simply had not wanted to face it... Angel suddenly recalled something she had heard in her previous life: "When you cannot make a choice, flip a coin. Before the coin lands, you will know the answer you want."

In that case, when she had failed to hear the bishop's last sentence and asked him to repeat it, she should have already understood the choice in her heart... Angel suddenly grasped the meaning of those words.

"Thank you, Bishop." She offered her sincere gratitude.

"May the Goddess bless you." The bishop behind the partition returned the courtesy. "Then, the confession is over."

"No, it is not over yet." Having made up her mind, Angel fixed her blazing gaze on the partition, as though she could see the bishop's surprised expression behind it.

"What?" The bishop was taken aback as well.

"I need you to tell them—the Nighthawks, or whoever it may be, those Beyonders." Ignoring the bishop's surprise, Angel spoke rapidly. "The multiple murders and disappearances in Tingen City are connected to someone named Cole Granger. Higher-level Beyonders are involved behind him. The relevant evidence is in the anonymous mailbox at Police Headquarters. Please have them deal with it as soon as possible."

The bishop behind the partition seemed silent from shock. Angel also said nothing, patiently waiting for a response as the Confessional fell quiet.

Just as Angel was about to think that he was secretly reporting it to the police, the bishop's deep voice finally said, "They will know."

"Thank you for helping this confused person strengthen her resolve." Angel stood, tapped her chest four times with her right hand to draw a Crimson Moon, then left the Confessional.

That thanks had not been for the bishop.

Most of the worshippers who had remained in the Prayer Hall outside had already left. In the dim hall, two Pastors were arranging the items on the altar. One of them was the young Pastor who had urged Angel to confess earlier. Seeing her emerge from the Confessional, he nodded to her.

Angel nodded in return and turned toward the main entrance through which she had come.

On both sides of the vestibule, crimson moonlight filtered through the glass and somehow felt glaring to her. She walked down the broad corridor, bathed in crimson, then looked back one last time at the church interior. The Goddess of the Night Holy Emblem carved into the Prayer Hall wall seemed to gaze down upon the church, and upon her.

A deep, tranquil power suffused the space around her.