The tranquil and peaceful town of Seth awoke to a refreshing clarity after a night of heavy rain. In the crisp morning air, the sound of birdsong filled the streets, and the town seemed to burst back into life. Residents began stepping outside to start their daily work. There was something about the bright, post-rain weather that made hearts feel unusually light.

Some townsfolk who had converted to the faith of the Radiant Lord had already arrived at the town's only chapel for morning prayer.

Daily prayer was a duty for every believer.

Normally, Pastor Lynn, the religious head of the town, would be the one leading the service. But today was different. Standing in his place, with a faint trace of resignation on her face, was Sister Maria, leading the congregation in reciting the holy words of the Radiant Lord.

Well…

To be honest, the sight was a bit of dark humor. Maria, dressed in black, was not even a follower of the Radiant Lord, yet Pastor Lynn had sent her up to lead the prayers. Maria could not help wondering if her father had taken leave of his senses.

"Laziness makes a man ugly, no longer beautiful."

"The mouth of the righteous speaks wisdom, and his tongue speaks justice."

"To dwell in wealth without knowing it is like the beasts that perish."

As she led the recitation, Maria kept feeling as if the statue of the Radiant Lord behind her might suddenly begin to glow and smite her on the spot. But perhaps out of consideration for the many years she had served as a nun in His chapel, the Radiant Lord chose silence.

The task, which Maria found deeply agonizing, ended soon enough. Ten-odd minutes of simple morning prayer were concluded in a rather perfunctory manner.

The congregation, however, seemed perfectly content.

Compared to listening to a weary, middle-aged pastor drone on, a striking and noble-looking nun was far more pleasing to the eye. After all, such a scene was far easier to enjoy. It was worth noting that the habit of the Radiant Church—the same one Maria often wore—had a timeless beauty with strong religious symbolism. One might even praise the Lord for His taste.

Perhaps, if the Radiant Lord knew about the holy relic known as black stockings, He might decree that every nun wear ones embroidered with a cross.

"Sister Maria, how is Lynn?"

The question came from a man Maria had never seen before. After eight years, she had memorized every face in Seth, and she was certain that before she had left the town, this man had not been here.

"And you are?"

"A poor vagrant. I owe my life to Lynn—if not for him, I'd have died outside the town. My name's Green." The man's clothes were filthy, and an unpleasant stench wafted from him.

When he extended a hand, Maria's face twitched slightly. She made the sign of the cross on her forehead instead of shaking it. Were it not for the Radiant Lord's teachings of equality and love for all, his disheveled appearance alone would have barred him from entering the chapel.

"My father is in good health. Thank you for asking."

Since this was a man her father had helped, Maria's wariness eased a little. More importantly, in her perception, Mr. Green was truly weak—so frail that a strong gust of wind might topple him.

"Yes, yes. I'm deeply sorry about the pastor's wife's illness. Unfortunately, there's little I can do. Seeking health is no easy matter, don't you agree, Sister Maria?"

"Green?"

The vagrant turned toward the voice. His benefactor, Pastor Lynn, was approaching. The haggard pastor had been worried that his eldest daughter might make a mistake on her first time leading the chapel, so after only a brief rest, he had come to check.

Thankfully, Maria's composure and maturity had not disappointed him. Seeing the morning prayer completed smoothly, he let out a long breath of relief.

"Maria, go on with your work."

It was clear that Green was a regular visitor to the chapel. Pastor Lynn often helped those in need, both residents and outsiders. This particular vagrant, lacking any apparent skill, would certainly need the pastor's aid if he wished to remain in Seth. A brief observation was all Maria needed to piece together most of the story.

She truly had no time to linger.

Right now, she was racing against death itself. If she could find a way to remove or neutralize the chaos and higher-being power in her mother Ruth's blood—while preserving the primal vitality within—then Ruth could be saved.

If she could not… then watching her mother die might be the cruel truth she would have to accept.

…

Apparatus, materials, and knowledge.

All of these were scarce in Seth for a Scholar. Fragile glass instruments could not be carried back on horseback—the jostling alone would shatter them. Materials such as herbs and animal parts that could neutralize blood were ones Maria would have to procure locally.

Fortunately, as the daughter of the town's religious leader, she did not lack for pocket money. Shining golden dragon coins could solve that problem.

As for knowledge—having dealt with both chaos and higher beings, Maria possessed no small amount of forbidden learning. She knew exactly which substances could weaken or amplify such powers.

But, unfortunately…

The world was still in its early stages. Many things born of the influence of chaos and higher beings had yet to appear. This created many difficulties for Maria's work.

And beyond that, her real fear was fate itself.

Once a boss of the Astral Clocktower, her own childhood had been anything but happy.

The commonly held speculation—that she was destined to face tragedy again—could just as easily apply now. If her mother Ruth died, Maria would be forced to endure another loss. The peaceful, stable life she had gained would be torn apart, pushing her onto that bloody, grief-filled path that fate seemed to have prepared for her.

The Astral Clocktower, the time-space anchor point guarding all the secrets of the Hunters, lay in wait. Within the countless fractured histories, the looming 3.0 calamity known as the Nightmare Blood Plague was opening its maw for the guardian destined to face it.

And outside Seth, an uninvited guest was drawing near.

He wore a black bowler hat, a somewhat dirty red scarf wrapped around his neck, and over his leather coat rested a small, neat shawl. This man, with the air of a charming gentleman, had a glint in his eyes that was easy to miss. In the blink of an eye, he crossed a long stretch of road, strolling leisurely into Seth.