Gods walked among us.
These holy words appeared in no scripture; they sounded more like an exclamation born of uncontrolled emotion.
But the person who spoke them was an elite Executor who had served the Church all his life, whose slightest movements revealed extraordinary martial skill, making their meaning well worth considering.
Any member of the Church, even a heretic from the Burial Agency, would not have brushed them aside as a simple mistake.
Unfortunately, apart from Caleb, everyone present was a bona fide magus.
Though some knew the Church's scriptures and Magic Formulas in considerable depth, the difference between pursuing the Root and protecting humanity as ways of life left them unable to understand the true meaning behind those words.
Thus, while Caleb, who understood, prayed, the other magi merely stared wide-eyed, still examining outward appearances.
"Mystic Eyes?"
Someone cried out when they saw Caleb's formerly dark, empty sockets replaced by eyes that glittered like jewels with an unusual radiance.
Though they did not understand the principle behind it, making someone grow a pair of Mystic Eyes in an instant was an indisputable miracle even to magi.
Yet, amid their astonishment, more eyes settled on the Mystic Eyes of Illusion resting in Roland's other hand.
For most of those present, these were the only thing that could reassure them.
Thus, many guests wavered when they discovered a problem with them.
"Hey, is this how you handle things?!"
Some of the more hot-tempered guests had even begun shouting angrily.
At Leandro, of course.
Although Roland was the instigator, the onlookers unanimously ignored him, for reasons that needed no explanation.
Whether a Saint or an incomprehensible mystery, either was taboo to magi.
Moreover, even if Roland was not a Saint but merely an ordinary Executor, this would still have become an