His surroundings were hazy and bright. What was he doing? Ah, right. He was playing with the other kids inside the garden of the orphan, to the place where he grew up.

What were they playing again? He cannot remember. But he was happy. A blissful moment from the perspective of a child. Then something appeared.

It was some-kind of humanoid, grinning widely as it stared at them. He tried to say something to his friends, but the words would not come out.

Run! That guy is bad! Run! Then the place became clad in red, screams of children echoing. Blood spurred to his knees. Hands rising from the liquid, crawling from his body, reaching for his frightened face—and then he opened his eyes. A dream.

The unfamiliar ceiling, the soft sensation in his back, the lightness of the clothes he was wearing. Where is this? “Hhmm...” I should get up. Darwyn thought.

If his memories can be trusted. He was supposed to be in the church, and after that... Strange... He cannot remember.

His thoughts were still not clear and he needed some time to reorganize it.

“Hhmm?”

His body was still not moving despite his attempt to leave the bed. Again he forced his arm to rose but it ended in failure.

“Erk...” He grunted, annoyed at what was happening. At least he could still stretch his neck, and he peered in the windows, greeted by the pitch-black sky and the little twinkling stars.

A wind visited him as it whispered into his ear. The winter chill had a comfortable cold that made him loosen up a little.

Knock knock knock. The door opened carefully, and the bishop entered with dainty steps. “You're awake.” The bishop announced, then sat at the chair near the bed of Darwyn.

“What was our goddess said?” Darwyn inquired the smiling bishop. He closed his eyes, waiting for the answer to come.

“About that... We are warned that a tribe of earth giants will attack the city. Five days from now on.” The bishop replied solemnly. He knew how the powerful giants were, he had fought them once, back in his younger days.

Air escaped from his mouth before opening his eyes, his pupils darted at the bishop. “I think I can recover tomorrow,” Darwin muttered.

“Hahaha! As if! Darwyn, I know how tired your body is after that ritual. Please rest here until you're fully recovered.”

“And how long will that be?”

“Four days.”

“I cannot do that.”

“Why?”

“Because there are waiting for my return.” To Darwyn, it was as simple as that. Someone was expecting him to come back, and it was his duty to do that.

“Your party member, right? They came here earlier. One of the guards reported that there are a wizard and an elf monk looking for you.”

“Yes. That's them.”

The bishop bobbed his head, understanding what Darwyn had said. But he cast his eyes in a sorrowful manner at Darwyn. “Even if you wanted to leave this place tomorrow. You can't, rather, you don't have the ability. You can't move your body right?”

“Erk...” Darwyn couldn't deny that. “So that means that I cannot move for four days?”

“Sadly. Yes.”

Why? This was not the first time he had done the ritual. He should be accustomed to it if anything. He wondered if this was a test that was given to him by his goddess. One after another, thoughts stacked up until his mind could no longer keep up.

“I see...” Was it because he let his guard down? Darwyn wanted to grit his hand but it would not listen at all.

The bishop waited for Darwyn to settle all of this, and finally, Darwyn said something slowly. “I'm sorry for troubling you. It must have been hard to carry me all the way here.”

“Hahaha, as long as you're aware.” Then the bishop began to tell the story after he lost his consciousness.

He and the nun returned and saw him laying on the floor. At first, he tried to carry Darwyn all alone and quickly realized that the difference in the strength of his younger self and the current him was vastly different.

Commanding his men, they lifted him but Darwyn was still too heavy. Then they began stripping his hefty equipment. The shield was the one that gave them trouble the most.

“And that's how you ended up here.” The bishop explained to Darwyn with a proud expression. Though he did not lie, he did not tell all the truth either. There was no way he could tell that “The female servants were deeply interested in you after seeing your face, Darwyn,” to the paladin himself.

The unsuspecting Darwyn acknowledged his rumble without resistance. Darwyn's sights wandered around, examining the room. “Where's my armor?”

“Don't worry about it. We hid them so no one can steal it. I don't think this church have enough fund to pay for your armor if they were to lost.” His armor was without decoration. It was not the thing one would imagine if they thought of a paladin. But the components that were used in the equipment were not necessarily cheap. Those materials were collected by Darwyn himself, then the finest of dwarf blacksmith crafted the armor.

“I see...” Darwyn shifted his back ever so slightly, adjusting himself to the soft bed. If possible, I want to go back. He thought, but his body implied otherwise.

It was no use to fight something that cannot be defeated. Darwyn exhaled audibly. If I return with this state. I'll be a hindrance. For Darwyn, there was no way he could trouble Liliana and Shen. He cannot show himself like this.

“Is the earth giant's attack is the only divination that Aversia gave?”

Darwyn's question made the bishop smile wryly before answering. “About that... There's also another thing but...”

“But?”

“To be honest. I really don't get it.” At his back, the bishop pulled something. The sheaf that Darwyn had written.

With a rustle, the bishop opened the paper and cough as to clear his throat.

“Here is the interpretation that we got after spending a whole day decoding it.” He stopped, then read the words out loud.

“Wanderer souls, drifted by the shore. Lost in space, from another they are born. Gifted with wisdom, intelligence, and power. They shall be the new hopes that never cower. Guide them, oh paladin, lead the way. Pray and not to let them astray...” And after that, he carefully rolled the paper, returned it to where it belonged.

“What do you think Darwyn? I really don't understand what our goddess is saying.” It was cryptic and mysterious. Much like the nature of the divine.

Darwyn grunted softly and gaped, once again, at the ceiling. “I also don't know.” His thoughts became clouded by the messages of her goddess.

Wanderer souls? What would be the meaning of that? A wraith? Specters? Ghost? Seeing Darwyn making a deadpan expression, the bishop snapped his finger, bringing Darwyn back to his senses.

“Don't think about it too deeply. It's my job to do that. For now, rest.”

“...Understood.” Darwyn offered no rebuttal to the bishop and let his eyes fell. For now, he needed to regain his power, as soon as possible.

The bishop was satisfied with his action, he stood up and turned his back to the resting Darwyn.

“Tomorrow. I think you can attend our meeting with the duke.”

“Yes.” Darwyn briefly said, his low voice echoing the place. He could hear the hubbub of merchants outside. Sound clattering carriage, and gossiping clerics. It resembled the noise of his hometown... But this place was different.

“I will go now.” The bishop came forth and exited the room, gently closing the door as he left quietly.

All alone to himself, Darwyn grunted. How pathetic it must be, for an A-ranked adventurer to be in this state. He felt that if he didn't move his body for a day, he would be sick.

His body was shaped into fighting every day, without rest. And his mind was programmed into thinking that. It was like an itch that can never be scratched.

“Hmm...” He submerged himself in the cacophony of the city and calmed his breathing. “I will do what I can do. ” He said as if he was complaining to someone.

“Aversia, grant me the strength to face any foes that I have yet to encounter.” It was a prayer, a simple and casual one, but still, it came from his heart.

“Please protect my friends... Protect anyone in this city.”

All he could do right now was pray, something that he was doing even before grasping his first sword.