May Your Soul Be Cleansed

Though that was what he said, Du Pont still found it hard to keep a straight face while singing the hymn. He had to exert tremendous effort not to burst out laughing, so he sang rather casually.

Fortunately, with so many apprentices around, no one should have noticed anything unusual about him. All he had to do was lower his voice and hum vaguely along with the melody to muddle through, just like many others.

Yes, there were probably quite a few people humming vaguely like him. Du Pont had spotted several apprentices with their eyes closed, looking as though they were about to fall asleep. They had come purely to go through the motions, and their faith in the Lady could not possibly have been much stronger than his.

Most mages were not particularly devout. Strictly speaking, they were not even as devout as many commoners.

That was hardly surprising. Even mage apprentices understood just how much they had paid to learn spells and become mages. They had not learned magic or gained spell slots simply by believing in the Lady of Magic.

If I have enough talent and put in enough effort, I can gain all this without believing. So why should I believe?

He had heard that mages in many places outside did not believe in Mystra at all. They never even went to church, and the greatest respect they showed the Lady of Magic was probably saying a few auspicious words to her holy symbol before conducting magical experiments, hoping for good luck. They only remained shallow believers to avoid ending up on the Wall of the Faithless after death, tortured for all eternity.

But Haluar was, after all, the stronghold of the Church of Magic. The rituals and masses here were proper and indispensable. Apprentices like him had to attend worship at nearby churches even when they were not at the academy. Only after becoming formal mages or reaching adulthood could they sit in chairs to pray, while casually enjoying the sight of foolish boys like him singing hymns.

Still, perhaps it was just his imagination, but Du Pont felt that the young priestess conducting the choir in front had glanced at him several times. Yet whenever he looked back, her gaze was no longer on him. She merely looked over the congregation as usual, slowly directing them with a censer suspended from a silver chain, graceful and aesthetically pleasing.

That priestess looked young, but her breasts were really not small. Her figure was far better than Annie's, who stood in front of him.

Could the church's food be better than the cafeteria's?

While Du Pont's mind wandered, he failed to notice the young nun conducting the choir frown slightly. However, she quickly recovered. Aside from the censer swaying just a little more frequently, everything remained normal.

Once the hymn was finally over, the girl stepped aside. A female priest wearing a robe over chainmail came before the congregation and cast a spell. Every Holy Candle in the church immediately lit up.

Du Pont had met this woman once before. She was Dorothy, the priest with the broad bosom.

Dorothy once again revealed the aura marking her Divine Bloodline. Her expression was solemn, as though a divine messenger had descended. Holding an ancient book glowing with sacred light, she recited scripture in a loud voice.

"We must always remember that magic is a profound arcane art. It is a gift bestowed upon us by the Lady, and the supreme privilege enjoyed by those capable of wielding it."

"We love magic itself. Do not treat it merely as a weapon to alter reality according to personal wishes. Only by learning when not to use magic can one comprehend true wisdom."

"Persist in studying new spells and creating new spells. The Lady has always favored the brave and innovative. Through the practice of magical arts, we shall grow into people possessed of true wisdom and broader, more balanced perspectives. The gates to the Lady's divine realm shall forever stand open to such people."

"While keeping this in mind, remain humble at all times. Bind arrogance tightly within your heart, and always remember the Lady's generosity."

After the priest finished, all the believers praised in unison, "Praise the Lady!"

For a moment, the church resembled the scene of a pyramid scheme rally. Even the flames of the Holy Candles tilted slightly, as though invisible Gods were leaning down to listen.

Du Pont could not help feeling moved at the sight.

Even someone like him, with no foundation of faith, felt admiration upon seeing this. If people had seen something like this in his previous life, gathering a cult of several million followers would probably have been effortless. True gods really were different from fictional deities made up out of thin air.

After waiting for that whole process to end, they moved on to recounting the sacred rites. The basic gist was how great the Goddess of Magic was, how she had defeated the evil goddess Shar and foiled the schemes of numerous Evil Gods, allowing powerful magic to be used by mages, and so on.

It had to be said that this was indeed generosity. The first Goddess of Magic had granted mages too much authority, to the point that an archmage of the Netherese era had used a twelfth-circle spell to steal her divine authority, causing her death. When the second Goddess of Magic took the throne, she directly prohibited everyone from researching magic above the ninth circle, and thus those arcane miracles never appeared again.

But on further thought, the development of magic today should still far surpass that of the Netherese era. In particular, the magical system of the new age allowed someone with only 14 Intelligence like him to become a mage apprentice. It could be said that he, too, was a beneficiary of the era.

By then, some of the mages seated in the viewing section had already slipped away quietly. Only a few formal mages remained, presumably those who genuinely revered the goddess and were willing to waste time here. When an elderly priest wearing a high-ranking dark-blue Priest Robe finally emerged to announce the ceremony's conclusion, the worship service was at last over. The apprentices greeted and bowed before the goddess and priests, then were free to leave.

Du Pont went through the motions listlessly. When his turn came, he looked at the exquisite gemstone-studded stone statue before him and had only one thought.

Wouldn't it be great if this were mine? A few of those gems would probably pay off my debt.

After looking at the goddess, he looked at the priest. Dorothy clearly remembered Du Pont. A somewhat mysterious smile appeared on her face when she saw him. "It's you. How have you been lately? Are you feeling better?"

"I'm alright." Du Pont honestly showed her his bandaged arm. "But I ran into a Gray Wolf when I went out, and it hurt me pretty badly."

"Then you can come find me later." Dorothy covered her mouth with one hand. The softness in her eyes made Du Pont's scalp prickle. "The goddess has recently been very pleased with the academy's piety, especially with outstanding young people like you. Don't worry, no additional offering will be required."

Outstanding my ass. My faith in the Lady isn't devout at all. She's probably after my body again. Still, as long as she doesn't put me to sleep, it might not be impossible.

Du Pont grumbled inwardly, but verbally agreed again and again. As he continued forward, he lowered his head to look at the young nun, his gaze unable to resist drifting downward.

The girl's bust was clearly much smaller than Dorothy's. But Dorothy was obviously at the age where she was ripe to overflowing, while this petite girl before him was probably about the same age as he was. Yet she had such a full chest. That was truly rare.

"The Lady will watch over a devout believer like you." The girl's smile was warm and gentle as she offered her blessing, but when she saw that the person before her was Du Pont, the upward curve of her lips stiffened slightly. She took a deep breath.

The girl struggled to raise the censer and pass it over Du Pont's head. Since she was much shorter than him, the motion took some effort. After finishing, she did not meet Du Pont's eyes. She merely gave a quiet blessing: "May your soul be cleansed."

"Thank you, Sister," Du Pont replied casually, then suddenly felt that something was off.

He had not paid much attention from afar before, but now he felt as if he had seen this person somewhere else before—or heard her voice?