The carriage rolled into Phermola, the city of green marble and terraces covered with flowers—wide cobblestone streets bordered by tall trees, and fountains decorated with Flower statues.
As the carriage slowed through the streets, Dilek suddenly leaned forward outside the window.
"Hold on—stop the carriage."
Duja heard him and tapped on the small window to the driver. The horses snorted as the wheels creaked to a halt beside an beautiful stone gate.
Hela looked at Dilek. "What happened?"
"Look at this." He said, handing her a card.
She took it, scanned the card, and frowned. "No."
"What! Why!"
"This seems fake," she said flatly.
"Huh?" Dilek blinked.
Duja tried to peek and broke into laughter. "Did you get this from the people you healed?"
Dilek nodded.
Duja laughed louder, clutching his stomach. "You think the Count invited you? The count was sitting down in the grass with those people?"
Ami burst into laughter, joining in just to make fun of Dilek. Marcus chuckled softly beside Duja, even Nandita smiled while looking down, trying to hide her laugh.
Diego, however, puffed his chest out. "OF COURSE they recognised how great the Saint is!"
Nandita turned to him with an unimpressed look. "Sit down. You're too naive if you think big people will invite Dilek."
Kelid sat awkwardly in the corner while Duja was dying laughing.
—
The carriage passed through the gates and stopped before a huge mansion. Its walls were covered in emerald vine designs, and two tall fountains were at the entrance,.
The group stood speechless.
The grand oak doors opened, and guards stepped forward to invite the group in.
Dilek grinned, striding ahead as if he had expected this all along. Kelid glanced at Duja's wide eyes and followed Dilek behind. Diego smirked and crossed his arms.
"Naive?" he said. "You fools. He got kidnapped by some Duke, and the guild considers him important enough to save him. Heh—you're the naive ones."
Ami grabbed Diego's mouth and yanked him closer. "Shut the hell up, Diego."
He struggled to pull away, muffled screams coming from behind her hand.
A butler was at the entrance, dressed in black with white gloves. He bowed deeply.
"I'm pleased that you were able to arrive, Sir. The Lady had informed us of your arrival. Please, come in."
Dilek entered first, followed by Kelid and Diego—whose face was now slightly swollen.
Kelid frowned. "What happened to you?"
Diego groaned. "That gorilla of a human grabbed my mouth… because she was wrong."
Duja, Nandita, and Ami stared at the house, dumbfounded. Hela and Marcus exchanged looks but said nothing—they had heard Diego's earlier "defense" of Dilek's importance and didn't bother correcting him.
The group was led into a guest room. Green curtains from the tall windows, and the floor was covered with green and gold carpet patterns. A crystal chandelier hung overhead. There were enough sofas for everyone, arranged around a polished oak table.
The butler bowed again. "The Lord and Lady will be meeting you soon. Please wait until that time."
As he left, maids entered, placing trays of snacks and cups and pots of tea on the table.
Ami immediately grabbed a bunch of biscuits with one hand and began stuffing them into her mouth.
Nandita accepted a cup of tea from one of the maids. Marcus and Diego sat nearby, discussing how cold the inside of the mansion felt despite the heat outside.
Outside the doorway, Hela and Duja paused before entering.
Hela reached out, holding Duja's hand.
"What is it?" he whispered.
"I'm… nervous," she admitted softly. "Recently, he was kidnapped… and all this stuff—it's somehow making me really nervous."
Duja smiled gently. "It's okay, Hela. The kid is growing up."
"The kid is eighteen, Duja. He doesn't know much about the world or how they manipulate people. And all this religion stuff… all of it is ridiculous. I feel like he is going somewhere where no one will be able to save him."
Duja sighed, his expression softening. "It's alright. He isn't alone. He has his friends—and us. We'll be there for him, won't we?"
"What if we can't?" Hela's voice trembled. "What if we can't protect any of them? They're so young…"
Duja realized, how deeply she had grown attached—to all of them: Dilek, Marcus, Nandita, Ami, and Diego.
He took a quiet breath and smiled again. "Hela… no—Cynthia." He lifted a hand to her cheek. "They're not your children. They had their own parents, probably in another country. Their parents must have worried for them too, but they still let their children go."
Hela's eyes lowered as he continued.
"They knew that eventually these kids would have to work for themselves in this cruel world. They have parents, Cynthia. We cannot be theirs. We can look after them as they are our clients, but if we forget our boundaries, we'll be forcing ourselves on them."
"I don't want to force them," Hela whispered. "But they'll be used, abused… you saw it. Castorik was planning to kill them. He was about to send people to kill them—"
"But we stopped him," Duja said gently. "And one day, we won't be there. That's why they have to grow. Properly. Into adults."
He looked into her eyes. "Promise me this, after we come back from the festival, you won't scold them for being outside late—or whatever the case."
Her eyes widened. "What?"
Duja's tone remained calm. "They need to do what they want to do. What we should be doing is cheering them on."
Hela looked down sadly, then nodded softly. "…I'll try."
Duja smiled. "Of course. I'm not asking you to do it instantly. You're the kindest person I've ever met, Cynthia. You're kind to strangers younger than you, so I'm sure someday you won't worry as much. Because these children will become capable—strong enough to protect themselves."
Hela exhaled, a shaky smile breaking through her worry. She stepped forward and hugged him.
Duja returned the gesture, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "I'm so lucky to have a wife like you" he whispered.
—
The doors to the guest room opened.
A man with a neatly trimmed beard and a warm, noble smile entered, dressed in a dark emerald coat, His posture was composed.
Beside him walked a lady in a flowing white dress lined with green silk, Her hair was tied in a low bun. A neklace of pearls was along her neck. At her side, a young boy, wore a small vest and trousers in matching green.
Nandita looked at them and thought, Why the fuck is everyone wearing green? 'Hold on— is this the Emerald City from The Wizard of Oz?'
The boy's face lit up the moment he spotted Dilek.
He waved enthusiastically, bouncing on his feet.
The count and his family approached, taking their seats.
The Count sat across from Dilek, Hela, Duja, and Nandita—who had stood up since the hosts had arrived—before they too sat down.
"I heard of you, Sir Dilek," the count said, his tone calm.
"Please, Count—Dilek is fine." Dilek smiled politely.
"Nice to meet you, Dilek. I'm Count Hugh Phermola. Welcome to our city."
"Pleased to be here, honestly. It's an amazing city—one that you clearly take care of well," Dilek replied.
The count laughed softly. "It's all my ancestors, Dilek, all my ancestors."
His wife smiled, folding her hands on her lap. "I don't think I introduced myself back there. I am Staria Phermola."
"And I am Estona Phermolaaaa!" the child shouted, grinning wide as he raised his hand.
The group chuckled as they began to introduce themselves in turn.
Nandita rose and bowed slightly. "I am Nandita, and this is Ami."
She pointed at Ami—who was at that moment stuffing her mouth full of biscuits, cheeks puffed out.
Nandita sighed and immediately slapped Ami's head lightly.
The count chuckled heartily. "Have as much as you need! These sweets are the pride of the city. Please, enjoy."
Ami glared at Nandita but wasted no time grabbing another handful, while Nandita tried to stop her again.
Marcus stood up next. "I am Marcus. Nice to meet you."
Diego followed, standing tall. "I'm Diego—the Fist of Saint."
The count nodded in amusement, then turned to Hela and Duja.
Hela's nervousness showed in her body, but Duja stood up for her. "I'm Duja, and this is my wife, Hela."
The countess smiled warmly at them.
Then the count leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together. "Dilek, first of all—my thanks for helping my son. When my dearest wife told me, I was extremely grateful."
Dilek shook his head modestly. "Don't mention it, Count. It was a small nosebleed."
"Yes," the count said, chuckling, "it most certainly was. But you used healing on him—and healing these days is an expensive spell. Must I say, doctors have started to rise again. Doctors who can slowly patch people up—it's quite effective, But slow."
Dilek tilted his head slightly. "Weren't doctors always a main thing from the start?"
He paused—remembering Anton's words about pretending to be from another country rather than another world. He chuckled lightly and added, "I mean, from the country I come from, doctors were the only people we had, to cure people."
"Fascinating," the count mused. "You must be from the East—or maybe the North. But Dilek, doctors weren't considered useful back then. You see, priests were able to fix wounds from the start. Yes, doctors existed before priests, but they were considered useless until recently, since the price of healing began to rise."
He leaned back, his tone turning sincere. "Despite that, I heard you did it for free. My wife said she even saw you helping the protesters. I had sent some guards to clear the main road, but it wasn't needed—thanks to you."
Dilek smiled politely. "You praise me too much."
'He's flattering me a lot… looks like I've built a better image than I thought.'
The count went on. "You know, I've recently hired builders for hospitals. I'm looking for people who study medicine—doctors. But sadly, I can't find any. I deeply care for my people… but I cannot help them all. I don't have the funds to heal every citizen, and the priests demand far too high a price."
"Is that so?" Dilek said, still smiling,
'As expected, he's leading the conversation toward my healing. He probably wants me to heal others for free. Not that I mind, but if he uses my name while taking the credit, that won't help me… And if I refuse, he might take offense. Quite the dilemma…'
The count continued, "I won't ask for much. But please—help my citizens."
Dilek smiled, closing his eyes briefly.
'I knew it…'
"I will fund your church," the count added.
"Huh?" Dilek looked up, surprised.
The count smiled warmly. "I would love to fund your church, you see."
"My church…?" Dilek blinked, confusion written all over his face.
The count nodded. "My wife and my son both told me about you—about your goddess Yaguya. It piqued my interest."
He leaned forward slightly. "Normally, I would have ignored it. But you performed healing at a very high level—not just for my son, but for fifty or sixty others. That's impressive. I doubt even bishops could do that many without straining themselves."
Dilek rubbed the back of his neck. "It does cause me to be a little tired."
"Don't be so humble, Dilek," the count said with a good-natured grin. "Truth be told, I thought you might be a conman—but I wanted to see you in person after my wife described your performance."
He straightened his coat and concluded firmly,
"Dilek, let me say this again—I want to fund your church."
'Now this is unexpected,' Dilek thought as he looked at the Count.