Not wanting to cause a commotion in the middle of the street, Ryn pulled the young paladin over to one side.

"What are you doing here?!"

"I could say the same thing about you, Young Master?!"

Ryn winced.

"Please—don't call me that. Especially not here."

Sera clamped her mouth shut, nodding quickly. Then she squared her shoulders, slipping back into her formal posture.

"If you must know," she whispered, glancing around,

"I'm here on orders. All five churches have begun cracking down on suspicious activity before the Hero Ceremony."

Ryn felt something tighten in his chest.

"…Crackdown?"

Sera nodded.

"Yes. With the ceremony coming soon, both the Churches of Rhea and Rokhan issued a directive to all affiliated paladins and clerics."

Ryn's mind raced.

She lowered her voice even further. "Lumen is… a hotspot. For all things suspicious…"

It all lined up too perfectly with what he'd learned from the handler and Gemini's orders.

He kept his expression neutral. "And they sent you?"

Sera puffed her cheeks. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I ranked up!"

Ryn blinked. "…Ranked up?"

"Twice," she clarified, with a mixture of embarrassment and pride. "I'm the youngest full-fledged paladin of the Church of Rhea now!"

Ryn stared at her.

She crossed her arms. "What? Did you think I was still a novice forever?"

"Fine. But it still means…" Ryn said carefully, "This place is dangerous. Even for someone like you."

He exhaled slowly, rubbing his forehead as he tried to process the situation.

Of all the places, of all the times…Why did the Rhea church choose Sera? Do they not know the extent of this place?

She looked up at him expectantly, clearly waiting for him to say something meaningful.

He opened his mouth, and closed it again.

Leaving her behind was the logical option. On paper.

But then he imagined it:

Sera would walk around in her shiny armor, she'd get exposed in a matter of minutes, and bankruptted by the hour.

Ryn swallowed.

No—leaving her wasn't an option at all.

He let out a long breath.

"You're coming with me."

Sera straightened, startled. "Wait—you're bringing me?"

"I don't have a choice," Ryn muttered. "You'll die or lose everything if I leave you in Lumen alone."

Her expression softened—just a little.

"Sorry…thanks. I didn't even know where to start anyway."

"Don't thank me," Ryn said. "Just follow my lead. And for the love of the gods, you need another outfit."

Sera nodded rapidly. "Right! Of course! Undercover."

Before he could speak, Sera hesitated.

"…I, uh, do have something else."

Ryn blinked. "You do?"

She flushed lightly. "We were told to pack…alternate outfits."

Without another word, she stepped behind a row of stacked crates, the faint sound of shifting cloth, and strange snips followed. Ryn stood guard, trying not to dwell on how surreal the situation was.

A moment later, Sera emerged.

Her new outfit, if it could even be called that, was a floor-length explosion of golden glitter. The dress sparkled so aggressively that the nearby lanterns dimmed in shame.

The dress wasn't even the most surprising part.

His gaze drifted upward.

"…Sera."

She blinked innocently.

"Why," Ryn said slowly, "did you cut your hair?"

He looked at her hair, for some reason, she had decided to cut it short. Her golden blonde hair, once long and flowing, was now chopped to a neat chin-length bob. Uneven in places, as it was clearly done with a dagger.

Sera smiled sheepishly, one hand drifting to the ends of hair that were no longer there before she tucked it behind her back.

"Well… if I wanted to fit in, I had to commit to the part, right?"

Ryn exhaled in, hand covering his face, trying to hide both awe and disappointment at the same time.

"Right. Let's just head in."

Sera nodded and dumped the rest of her armor into her Dimensional Ring, which sort of surprised him, as ones that can store that much usually cost a fortune.

Maybe the church was starting to see her potential.

They started walking again, weaving through the thinning crowd until the district opened into a wide courtyard of polished stone.

A pair of well-dressed attendants stood at the grand double doors, greeting guests with polite bows.

When Ryn got to them, he presented his Red Fox's emblem. Both attendants took a look at each other, probably not sure what the protocol was.

"To the Hall, please." he added, trying to sell the act.

Then, one of them finally nodded and opened the door.

The moment they stepped inside, Sera froze, not in horror but in awe.

This wasn't a den of vice at all.

At least… not yet.

The entrance hall resembled a high-class inn—polished marble floors, velvet drapes, and warm golden chandeliers casting soft circles of light across the lobby. Attendants in crisp uniforms moved gracefully between guests, carrying trays of fruit-infused drinks and folded towels.

Sera blinked.

"…This is beautiful."

Ryn sighed. "It's supposed to be. That's the point."

The lobby was filled with wealthy travelers lounging on plush sofas, chatting in hushed tones. A harp played gently in the background, accompanied by the clinking of fine porcelain teacups.

Not a single hint of gambling.

Sera leaned toward Ryn, whispering, "I thought you said this place was dangerous?"

"It is," Ryn muttered.

She glanced around again at the tasteful decor, the smiling staff, the serene fountains nestled beneath potted crystal trees.

"…Are you sure?"

"Just wait."

They walked deeper into the lobby. A concierge bowed politely as they passed, offering them a drink with precise smiles.

Sera puffed her chest a little. "See? Perfectly respectable. Maybe you misjudged—"

"Don't drink that."

She stopped mid-sip, slowly returning the glass to a nearby empty table with the guilt of a child caught stealing.

Then they reached a pair of curtains. Before Ryn could sweep them aside, somebody emerged.

From behind the golden curtains stepped a woman with the kind of presence that made space fold around her.

Her gown was simple but immaculate, made from tailored black silk with white embroidery. No excessive jewelry or gaudy pieces, just simple elegance.

Her eyes found Ryn instantly.

"New guests?" Her voice was velvet, smooth, unhurried.

Ryn nodded politely. "Just passing through."

"Are you?" Her eyes flicked to Sera's uneven hair, then to Ryn's stance, who had unconsciously shifted to cover Sera.

"A curious pair."

She reached into her bag and drew out a small black metal slip, its surface gleaming under the chandelier's light.

"Here," she said, offering it between two fingers. "A courtesy."

Ryn hesitated. "What is it?"

"A reassurance, of sorts."

Her tone remained light, teasingly unreadable.

"If a misunderstanding happens inside… present this to the right person. It tends to smooth things over."

Sera looked horrified. "Misunderstanding? What kind of misunderstanding—"

The woman's eyes softened with amusement as Ryn received it.

"In a place where a single bet can mean life-or-death, people tend to…use everything at their disposal to win."

Then she eyed Ryn, giving him a wink.

He understood what it meant, and she knew that he did too.

The House of Radiance was a monument to ego, wealth stacked on the backs of deceit. Expecting fairness here was naive.

In a place built to reward the ruthless, the only thing a person could truly rely on… was the power the gods had placed in their hands.

Blessings.

Maria's eyes flicked between the drained color in Sera's face and the cold narrowness in Ryn's. A subtle smirk touched her lips, like she found their reactions amusing.

"Hope you enjoy your time here," she said lightly.

With a graceful turn, she strode off with her guard in tow, giving them a small, elegant wave before exiting the establishment.

Ryn looked down at the card in his hand again.

The only thing written on it…was the woman's name.

Madame Maria Blackwood.

He slipped the card into his cloak and drew a steady breath.

Sera stepped closer, her voice barely a whisper.

"Ryn… are we really going in there?"

He pushed the curtain aside.

"Yeah." His eyes hardened.

"We are."

Warm light washed over their face as they entered, carrying with it the scent of expensive wine, polished marble, and the toxic laughter carrying through the hall.

Ryn crossed the threshold.

He was about to step into the devil's den.

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