On the eastern side of a district on the outskirts of the Royal Capital stood an imposing building. This was the Church, but it did not worship any particular god. The object of worship in this world was rather strange: they worshipped techniques. It felt similar to worshipping fire or the sky.
Faith made ruling easier. Worshipping gods always led to all kinds of problems, and if things went wrong, divine authority might even surpass royal authority. Worshipping techniques was different. Could techniques be called dead things? As long as someone could draw them, they would respond to everyone. This was the power of a real miracle.
The Church's third floor was very quiet. A room several dozen square meters in size was bright, clean, and fresh, with white curtains fluttering in the breeze.
Sunlight streamed inside. Two single beds stood in the room, while several soldiers stood guard outside the door.
The mage apprentice Peipeni leaned listlessly against the headboard, her lower body covered by a blanket. After being treated with techniques, her injuries had mostly recovered. She was very "lucky"—because her heart was on the right side, she had avoided a fatal blow through an innate advantage.
"According to the opening of the story, I should gain a legacy of power next, then shoulder my responsibilities, defeat the War Demon, and become the heroine who saves the Azure Dragon Continent! It would be perfect if I also met several handsome young Imperial officers. Hehehehe... No, no, one is enough. I can't be a flirt."
Peipeni's gaze gradually went blank, and the smile on her face grew increasingly ridiculous.
"Water."
A weak voice came from beside her. Peipeni snapped out of her fantasies and was just about to get out of bed when the movement tugged at the wound