Who is he now?

But finally, they stopped.

Right in front of a small, hidden flower garden.

It wasn't one of those over-the-top noble gardens from the inner sect—no, this was more… personal.

'What is this place?'

He wondered, scanning his surroundings.

'Damn. It's so... neat. Organized.'

The garden was small but well-kept, the flowers carefully arranged in precise, colorful rows. It was almost unsettling how perfect it looked—like someone had taken time to trim every single bush with obsessive devotion.

'Weirdly satisfying. I respect it.'

At the very center, a modest stone fountain stood tall, carved into the shape of the God of Prosperity.

The statue was majestic, grand, noble—

And holding a bowl of coins over his junk like a censor bar. Artis squinted at it.

"…Lily, why does your god look like he's about to flash me?"