The Evernight Goddess Church's upper echelons consisted of thirteen Archbishops and nine High-Ranking Clerics and Creste Cesima was one of them. That such a prominent figure would personally come to see him didn't make Galad feel honored in the slightest. Instead, it terrified him.
"Your Excellency Cesima didn't come because of Old Neil, did he?"
"No. His Excellency came specifically for you," Dunn replied calmly. "He wished to assess whether you, a Nighthawk on the Secret Prayer pathway, were qualified. It just so happened that he received my report and decided to handle Old Neil's situation at the same time so in a way, Neil owes you thanks."
"Then… why did he leave so quickly?" Galad asked, unable to hide his confusion.
"He said that after witnessing your actions in saving Old Neil and with the Evernight Goddess's holy artifact recognizing you there was no longer any need for further testing." A faint smile appeared on Dunn's face. "That's good news, Galad. It means the Holy Cathedral itself has acknowledged you. From now on, you'll have official protection. You should feel relieved."
At those words, Galad did feel a wave of relief wash over him. But soon after, he recalled Creste's broad grin every tooth clinging with resentful spirits and unease stirred in his chest again.
The joy of unexpected property, the peace of being recognized by the Holy Cathedral, and the lingering dread of Creste all these emotions tangled together until Galad sat silently, unable to speak.
"Also," Dunn continued, "since Neil has left, and both you and Klein are still new, I'll be requesting an auxiliary personnel from another region to reinforce our team. Until then, your mysticism lessons will have to be self-taught. Neil left all his notes and materials in the archive downstairs. You may study them at your own pace but be cautious. Never attempt anything you aren't completely certain about."
Hearing that the torment of Old Neil's lessons was gone brought Galad both relief and regret. Neil's teaching had been genuine. Without him, they would now have to rely on self-study.
I hope Klein picks things up quickly… and can teach me more.Galad prayed silently.
"That's all for now, Galad. You may go. Remember to tell Klein."
"Understood, Captain."
Galad rose, counting silently in his head as he moved toward the door.One, two, three.....
"Wait."
As expected.
Galad turned back with a smile. "Anything else, Captain?"
"Your newcomer welcoming dinner is set for this Friday evening at Old Will's Restaurant. Neil didn't make it to this big meal… He told me before how much he was looking forward to it."
"I'll be there, Captain."
Galad nodded, unable to find the right words.
He had barely taken two steps before Dunn's voice stopped him again.
"And another thing. Submit your proof of mental stability. Have it on my desk by next week."
"…No problem."
This time, Dunn didn't call after him again, and Galad finally made it out of the office.
The rest of the afternoon passed quietly.
Galad lingered at Blackthorn Security Company, savoring the news, and even spent half an hour practicing at the shooting range. Slowly, he began to accept the reality soon, a detached house worth 900 pounds in the northern suburbs would be his. The happiness he had been holding back finally began to surface.
After work, he boarded the tram and headed home.
When Cecilia returned from school and opened the door, she was greeted by the aroma of a lavish feast laid out on the dining table: pan-fried foie gras, roasted steak, vegetable salad, stewed lamb, cream cake, and even champagne and red wine already uncorked, glistening under the gas lamp.
"You're back?"
Galad, holding a champagne glass, looked up and smiled.
Cecilia blinked at the spread in bewilderment. Setting her schoolbag down, she hesitated before asking, "Galad… what's all this?"
"Celebration," he said cheerfully. "Something good happened."
He had thought about it all afternoon and reached a conclusion: this gift was well-earned. To accept it openly and use it to improve their lives was the best way to honor Old Neil's intentions.
"Good things happen every day," Cecilia said with a frown. "But if you waste money like this, we won't have anything left to eat tomorrow."
"Don't worry, little sister." Galad chuckled. "Actually, what I'm celebrating is this your brother earned us a detached house overnight."
But instead of joy, Cecilia's face filled with worry.
"Galad… are you having hallucinations again?"
He nearly choked on his drink. With no other choice, he carefully explained, omitting details he couldn't reveal. It took a great deal of effort, but eventually, Cecilia's doubt gave way to surprise.
"So everything you said is true?" She widened her eyes, her expression filled with wonder. "You're amazing."
"Of course." Galad's grin spread wide. Being praised by his sister felt better than recognition from the Holy Cathedral itself.
He clapped his hands. "Alright, enough talking. Wash your hands—we'll eat before it gets cold."
The siblings sat down, clinked glasses, and began their feast.
Watching Cecilia's delighted expression as she ate, Galad felt a deep, genuine happiness well up inside him. He picked up his own knife and fork and joined her, savoring the moment.
….....
After the meal, the two of them lingered in the aftertaste, chatting idly before cleaning the table and washing dishes together.
"How was school? Anyone bothering you? Any troublemakers giving you a hard time?" Galad asked while scrubbing plates.
"Not at all," Cecilia replied. "When Mr. Dunn brought me to school, several police officers came along. Now everyone's gossiping that I'm the illegitimate daughter of a senior officer no one dares bully me."
Galad chuckled. "Not bad. What about your studies?"
"It's fine. The lessons are easy enough, and I've been reviewing carefully. On the last test, I ranked among the top of my class."
Her words eased the last of his tension. "That's good. That's really good."
They chatted a while longer, even planning to visit the theater that weekend, before retiring to their rooms.
Back in his own bedroom, Galad didn't lie down. Instead, he lit the gas lamp, pulled out a sheet of paper, and sat at his desk.
Old Neil's fate had left him with a heavy sense of crisis. Tonight, he would take stock of his own strength carefully sorting through every ability he now possessed.