"Abby, where's Celine?"

The clock tower hit nine. Yulia was ready to call it a day.

Abby went pale, her hands shaking. "Busy... maybe?"

Yulia yawned. Shift over. Time to clock out.

"Fine. Anyone who's still hungry can have her plate."

Abby looked at the unclaimed tray. She knew better than to chase the dragon's favor.

Later, Caerus walked into the bedroom.

Yulia was on the floor, whispering to a pot of dirt.

"What are you doing?"

She didn't look up. "I'm practicing divine arts."

Caerus watched from the side, a thin, mocking sneer on his lips. "Give up. In your current state, magic is impossible."

"Why?" Yulia paused, staring at the dirt. "Do I need a wand? Fine. I'll whittle one out of a branch later."

Caerus stared at her, blank-faced. He knew the laws of this world better than any living soul.

"You lack faith."

He pressed a warm palm over her eyes. When he pulled it away, Yulia gasped. The air was thick with shimmering, translucent threads, vibrating like a massive, invisible spiderweb.

"The world divides faith into two paths: the God of Radiance and the Dark God. One fuels divine arts, the other arcana. Both rely on this Magic Web."

Caerus leaned in, his golden slit eyes locking onto hers. "To move these threads, talent isn't enough. You need to believe in a god."

Yulia realized the problem. The original Yulia was a fanatic., But the soul inside this body was a warrior of materialism.

"If one god isn't enough... can I just believe in two?" she asked, her voice bright with a sudden, pragmatic idea. "Double the quantity? Two hands are better than one, right?"

Caerus went dead silent. He stared at her as if she were a glitch in the universe.

He reached out, his hand clamping over her head. "Don't be ridiculous. Close your eyes."

"What are you—"

Yulia's words cut off. He was close enough for her to count his lashes. He leaned in, his forehead resting against hers.

"I'm rewriting your circuit."

If a sage from the Great Academies had been there, they would have fainted. The God of Radiance was the only one who could create light magic. Caerus wasn't just adding a spell; he was bypassing the divine system entirely.

To Yulia, it just felt like a teacher giving a failing student the answer key before an exam.

The next day, magic felt as natural as breathing.

No chanting.

No casting times.

Sprouts punched through the soil. They grew, ripened, and bore fruit in the blink of an eye.

"A miracle," a girl whispered, her eyes wide.

Even Giotto stood frozen. He knew the Princess was a Candidate of the Holy Saintess, but this level of control was unheard of.,

Yulia blinked. Wait. Isn't he the Dark God's avatar? This is like a Taoist teaching a monk how to pray.

The girls swarmed her, their voices thick with awe. "The God of Radiance still protects you!"

"A Saintess's power... the God will save us after all!"

Molly looked at the overflowing crates of vegetables. "We won't go hungry again."

With the new harvest, burgers and sandwiches were easy. Caerus ate whatever she put in front of him, his face a mask of cold indifference.

Yulia was the only one who couldn't smile. She poked at her sandwich, her stomach turning.

"Princess, you've barely touched your food," Molly said. "Are you ill?"

"No." Yulia looked at the bread with pure, unadulterated loathing. "I just have no appetite.",

No self-respecting person could survive on cold sandwiches for a week.

"But it's delicious!"

"I could eat this every day!"

"The nobles would pay a fortune for this!"

White bread was a luxury for them. To Yulia, it was a prison. She wanted stir-fry. She needed a wok.

"Outside?" Ollie chirped, his crimson feathers ruffling.

"Forget it, Lily. The Pigeon Loft district is just starving beggars. If it's not in the Lord's vault, it doesn't exist.",

I need to go home. This world doesn't even have a iron pot.

She eyed the Undead Knight's silver shield. That looks like it could hold some oil.

Outside the Temple of Abyss, a line of black-robed figures came to a halt.

The lead priest looked at the jagged spires with a mix of hunger and fear. To the Dark Believers, this was a forbidden zone. They stayed in the south of Catharsis, at the Inquisition.

The dragon was a legend they feared, even while claiming to be his followers.

"The Farislan Princess is really in there?" a believer whispered.

"The Imperial Rose."

"The Pope will probably give her to a noble. Or keep her as his thirteenth mistress."

The priest hissed, "Silence. Unless you want to be charged with blasphemy."

They didn't serve the dragon; they served Gordon Stewart, the Dark Pope.

"Let's move. Don't keep the Pope waiting."

They stepped into the silent, grey grounds of the temple.

Far to the south, Gordon Stewart sat surrounded by mistresses. He bit into a grape, a sudden, sharp chill running down his spine.

Just a draft, he thought. He'd have the "Imperial Rose" soon enough.

The Dark Priest felt a cold shiver crawl up his spine. The Temple of Abyss… was it always this clean?

The ruins should have been a graveyard of weeds and cobwebs, a gray skeleton of a place. Instead, the grass was a vibrant, healthy green, the altar water was crystal clear, and the main road looked like it had been scrubbed at dawn.

"High Priest!" A believer scrambled down from the tower, his face pale. "The brides… they're gone! The sanctuary is empty!"

The Priest's grip tightened on his staff.

Protective arcana surrounded the temple; escaping shouldn't have been this easy. He looked toward the central fortress—the jagged cave where the Black Dragon slept.

"Search the center," the Priest rasped. "The Pope is far more terrifying than a sleeping dragon."

The believers marched toward the forbidden ground, bracing for piles of bones and the stench of rot. They expected a legion of undead guarding their master.

"Ollie! You're eating Princess Yulia's tomatoes again!" a voice barked from around the corner.

"So what?! I'm just tasting them! It's a divine honor for the plant!" the bird screeched back.

"The Princess said she'd pluck you bald if she caught you stealing snacks again…"

"She wouldn't dare! Was it Jojo? Did Jojo tell on me?!"

"Ow! Stop pecking me, you stupid bird! Why do you only attack me?!"

The Dark Priest and his men froze.

No bones.

No rot.

Just a group of girls and a phoenix bickering like they were in a sun-drenched garden.