Chapter 9: The Church of Saint Selina's

The Church of Saint Selina's on Red Moonlight Street serves as the headquarters for the Church of the Goddess of Night in Tingen City. Along with the "Church of River and Sea" belonging to the Lord of Storms in North Tingen and the "Church of Sacred Numbers" of the God of Steam and Machinery in the suburbs, it forms the foundation of the religious community in Tingen and its surrounding towns and villages.

Many of the passengers who had just disembarked from the public carriage on Red Moonlight Street were heading to the church for prayer.

Drawn by the sound of bells, Angel momentarily forgot the urgency of her flight. She walked along the sidewalk past the central square, arriving at the fan-shaped steps of Saint Selina's's Church.

The church was Gothic in style, very similar to the Church of Light from Angel's previous life, but entirely black. Flying buttresses supported the main structure on both sides, while the front featured red and blue stained glass windows surrounding the central protruding section of the main building. Above it all rose a tall bell tower.

The prominent arched main entrance was bustling with worshippers coming and going.

Among Tingen's three major churches, Angel was most intrigued by the Church of the Goddess of Night. This wasn't due to hearing Saint Selina's's bells daily, but because the church's followers greeted by drawing a crimson moon on their chests.

This gesture was identical to the sun symbol that Angel used to draw as a Templar Knight of the Church of Light.

The Church of the Goddess of Night worshipped the night goddess, revering black as their sacred color and the crimson moon as their symbol. This stood in complete opposition to the Church of Light's goddess of light, which honored the sun and pure white.

The coincidence seemed too great, but considering that this world had steam engines, revolvers, and even a 365-day year, the similarity seemed less remarkable.

Angel climbed the steps to reach the church's main entrance. The mere sight of the majestic building calmed her agitated mind.

She took out a five-pound note and approached the donation box near the main door, depositing it inside.

A young priest on duty, seemingly unused to such generous donors, hurried over and drew a clockwise crimson moon on his chest, saying, "Praise the Goddess. Thank you for your generosity, beautiful lady."

"Praise the Goddess. It's nothing compared to this precious moment of tranquility," Angel replied, mimicking the gesture.

She had initially intended to donate just a few coins, but for some reason, her hand pulled out a large bill when she reached into her pocket.

Angel's words were sincere; she truly found a moment of peace before the church. Thinking about the endless journey of escape that might lie ahead, this moment of tranquility was indeed precious.

"My lady, you seem troubled by something. If you have some time, why not visit the church's confessional? Perhaps listening to the Goddess's teachings could help answer your doubts," the priest suggested.

Is my state that obvious? Angel wondered, touching her head to find that her hood had fallen back at some point, exposing her worried expression to the observant priest.

As for the confession he mentioned, Angel had originally planned to just donate and leave, but changed her mind at the priest's encouragement.

"I might as well get my money's worth for those five pounds," she rationalized to herself.

Angel thanked the priest and entered the church through the main door. The narrow, dark vestibule was flanked by tall, dual-colored stained glass windows. With the sun already set, crimson moonlight filtered through the glass, casting an eerie, deep glow on the floor.

She passed through the cramped vestibule into the prayer hall. The recent mass had ended some time ago, and most people had left. Seven or eight worshippers were scattered about the hall, some praying with bowed heads and closed eyes, others staring blankly ahead, and a few muttering with their faces covered.

Angel made her way past the neat rows of pews to the confessional on the side of the prayer hall. The door opened from within, and a middle-aged man emerged, his face bewildered and his gaze unfocused. He nearly bumped into Angel outside the door, seemingly still grappling with inner turmoil despite his confession.

After he slowly walked away, Angel entered the narrow confessional, closing the door behind her. She sat down on the wooden chair with a backrest.

A candle rested on the crossbar in front of her. In its dim light, a deep male voice came from behind the partition: "Child, what would you like to say?"

Indeed, what did she want to say? Angel asked herself.

That she came from another world, unfortunately inhabiting the body of a dead person who had reaped what they sowed?

That just as she had solved her identity problem and prepared to settle in this world, a letter had frightened her into planning to flee?

Carefully choosing her words, Angel slowly said:

"Faced with evil, I chose to retreat, failing to uphold my principles."

She expressed her confusion in vague terms.

Fortunately, the bishop conducting the confession was accustomed to cryptic speakers. After a moment of silence, he continued to inquire: "Was this matter beyond your capabilities?"

"Yes, there might have been a small chance, but I thought the odds were slim," she replied.

"Then, have you tried seeking help from other powers?"

Is he suggesting I go to the police? Angel was momentarily confused before answering: "That's precisely my dilemma. I long to overcome it, but I fear exposing myself and drawing attention. Does this go against the Goddess's teachings?"

"Fear is human instinct. Those who overcome it are praiseworthy, but following one's heart won't be condemned either. The Goddess..."

The bishop's voice seemed to grow increasingly distant, with the last sentence barely audible. Angel leaned forward towards the partition: "What did you say?"

The candle in front of her suddenly extinguished, plunging the confessional into darkness.

A chill ran down Angel's spine. She instinctively reached back to throw open her cloak, grasping for the gun holster on her leg while trying to move away from the partition.

"The Goddess says, those who face their fears and move forward bravely will be rewarded." A voice, completely different from the confessor bishop's, neither distinctly male nor female, resonated within the small confessional, making it impossible for Angel to determine its direction.

"Who's there?" Angel called out. Her hand had found the gun's grip, but she didn't dare draw it. The mysterious presence was too elusive and powerful, quashing any thought of resistance.

No answer came from the darkness.

In a flash, light returned to the confessional. Angel found herself still sitting quietly in the chair, hands folded in her lap. The bishop's deep voice now sounded as melodious as heavenly music: "...will forgive her honest followers."

Except for the cold sweat on her back, the previous eerie darkness seemed like an illusion.

Seeing her frozen in place, the bishop concluded the confession: "Follow your heart, and feel no guilt or unease."

I came for confession precisely because my heart was wavering... Angel answered internally.

She recalled her previous life, the day she was baptized at St. Charles Cathedral and became a Templar Knight, swearing to fight all evil in the world. She remembered her journey from initial doubt to rebellion when faced with internal darkness after joining the church's armed forces, and how she stood on the front lines when evil invaded the mortal realm.

In less than two days in this new world, she had almost forgotten decades of perseverance from her previous life.

Was it confusion from becoming a woman? Eagerness to obtain a legal identity? Or a sense of powerlessness in the face of high-ranking Beyonder?

Or perhaps she subconsciously believed that she was no longer the Templar Knight Angel Grey, but the extraordinary "Assassin" Angel Granger, and therefore didn't need to adhere to her previous beliefs?

"No, this isn't avoidance. It's the best choice after careful consideration. The police will soon discover the anonymous tip in their mailbox, detailing Cole Granger's various crimes. Based on these clues and evidence, Cole's actions will ultimately lead the police to the woman behind it all, Mrs. Sharon. Due to the involvement of extraordinary powers, the police will notify the church's extraordinary armed forces to handle the situation. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, Mrs. Sharon should be apprehended within a week," a voice in her mind argued.

"Do you really believe that? Then why are you heading to Backlund to warn Lily Granger, your nominal cousin, to seek protection from official Beyonder?" another voice mocked.

"You also think Mrs. Sharon has a high probability of escaping legal punishment, don't you? She has an extensive network of connections in Tingen City and holds various secrets of politicians and wealthy merchants. Unless caught in the act, she has numerous ways to evade charges. What can the police do against her?"

"I've done what I can. The police will know Mrs. Sharon is an extraordinary individual, and the church's armed forces will intervene..." the defensive voice grew weaker.

"This isn't the monotheistic Earth. Tingen alone has three churches keeping each other in check. The probability of Mrs. Sharon becoming alert and escaping during their initial investigation is quite high. She can casually offer Sequence 7 potions to recruit subordinates, suggesting she might have an even more powerful force behind her. Once she escapes, prepare to live the rest of your life in fear!"

The mocking voice pressed on.

"You know the once-and-for-all solution, don't you?"

Yes, I've always known. I just didn't want to face it... Angel suddenly remembered a saying she had heard in her previous life: "When you find it hard to make a decision, flip a coin. Before the coin lands, you'll know the answer you want."

Come to think of it, when I couldn't hear the bishop's last sentence clearly and asked again, I should have already understood my heart's choice... Angel suddenly grasped the meaning of those words.

"Thank you, Bishop," she expressed her gratitude sincerely.

"May the Goddess bless you," the bishop behind the partition returned the blessing. "Well then, the confession is over."

"No, it's not over yet," Angel said, her gaze fixed intently on the partition, as if she could see the bishop's surprised expression behind it.

"What?" The bishop was taken aback.

"I need you to tell them, the Nighthawks or whoever they are, those Beyonder," Angel spoke quickly, disregarding the bishop's surprise. "The recent murders and disappearances in Tingen City are related to a man named Cole Granger, involving higher-level Beyonder behind the scenes. The relevant evidence is in the anonymous mailbox at the police headquarters. Please ask them to handle this as soon as possible."

The bishop behind the partition seemed silent with shock. Angel also remained quiet, patiently waiting for a response. The confessional fell into silence.

Just as Angel was about to think the other party was secretly calling the police, the bishop's deep voice finally said, "They will know."

"Thank you for helping me, a confused soul, find resolve," Angel stood up, touched her right hand to her chest four times, drawing a crimson moon, then left the confessional.

This gratitude was not for the bishop.

Outside, the prayer hall had emptied of the worshippers who had been there earlier. In the dim hall, two priests were arranging the implements on the podium. One of them was the young priest who had earlier encouraged Angel to come for confession. Seeing her emerge from the confessional, he nodded in acknowledgment.

Angel nodded back, then turned towards the main entrance she had come through.

Along the corridor, the crimson moonlight filtering through the glass on both sides seemed almost blinding to her. As she walked down the wide hallway bathed in crimson light, she took one last look back at the church interior. The emblem of the Goddess of Night carved on the prayer hall wall seemed to be looking down upon the church, upon her.

A deep, tranquil power permeated around her.