"Ah ha~ Bugs! It's definitely bugs!"
At the Eternal Church, a church member who had come to pray witnessed the most unforgettable scene of his life:
A smiling crimson mask… hugging a cup of milk tea, flying back and forth through the solemn and holy cathedral, occasionally letting out spine-chilling laughter.
Blasphemy! This had to be blasphemy against Lord Ite and against Eternity!
No—he would act on Pontiff Blake's behalf today and deliver heavenly judgment!
"Deacon Screwlloyd, why are you just standing there?!"
"Ahem~ Devout Brother Hughes, there is no need for alarm or anger. That crimson mask darting beneath the sacred statue is merely a hallucination born from your own mind. You need rest."
Screwlloyd walked up to the priest with a beaming smile and whispered a few words into his ear at lightning speed.
"Huh? So it's a trick of the Lord of Destruction to erode our faith in Eternity…"
"Exactly. So for the time being… promise me you won't let anyone near the sanctuary, alright?"
"But Lord Screwlloyd, what about you?"
Brother Hughes grasped Screwlloyd's hands. How could he let the church deacon remain inside alone, enduring the sinful whispers of Destruction?
"Very good, Brother Hughes. Your spirit moves me deeply. But I am inorganic life—my hearing cannot be damaged by such things."
"No! Lord Screwlloyd, please allow me to fight alongside you! You only just returned—how could I let you face danger again while I do nothing?!"
Brother Hughes said passionately, "The church's situation is dire right now. Pontiff Blake and High Priestess Freesna have been away for so long, and even Knight-Captain Bertnis…"
"You may not know this, but my older brother Lant was once blinded by momentary desire. Fortunately, Pontiff Blake discovered the abnormality in time and revealed the truth of the 'anomaly' to him, cleansing both his soul and his eyes!"
"That hazy truth came from the vile methods of certain believers! I wasn't present then, but this time is different! I'm right here in the sanctuary—if it costs me my life, I will never let you bear this alone!"
The corner of Screwlloyd's mouth twitched. He never should have opened his mouth—how had the misunderstanding grown this deep?
Still… during the days he'd spent drifting freely through the cosmos, Screwlloyd had accidentally discovered a planet… perfectly suited to become the church's second stronghold.
Just looking at it from afar—a dazzling, multicolored [∞]. If his communication equipment hadn't failed, he would have explored it himself.
Unfortunately… on that planet, Screwlloyd had sensed no living humans, only the presence of fellow intelligencers.
Out of goodwill, before leaving he'd tossed a bar of soap toward the planet—just a little advance scouting.
But first things first—Brother Hughes…
While Screwlloyd was lost in thought, Brother Hughes somehow produced an iron sword and charged fearlessly at the mask.
"Fiend of Destruction—taste my blade!"
...
"Sparkling cosmos, an abnormal state on the other side."
In the pitch-black parlor car, a spotlight suddenly illuminated the red-haired man who had appeared out of nowhere.
"Like dye blooming in brilliant color… you are truly beautiful."
He elegantly pointed at the potted plant in front of him, completely sincere—not an act, but genuine admiration from the heart.
"The red-haired knight… is this the Bertnis you mentioned? The Knight-Captain of the church?"
March 7th and Stelle cautiously crept closer. It felt uncannily similar to Pontiff Blake's holy light.
Except… this knight came with his own sound system. Much more distinctive than the church's sermons.
"A lady?" The man turned around, and March 7th jumped at the sudden spotlight.
"Allow me to sincerely praise you—you are like a flower blooming on a winter snowfield."
Huh… why did that feel a little romantic?
Click!
Dan Heng couldn't watch anymore. Evidently the earlier collision had broken the chandelier—this was the perfect time to use the little night-light Stelle had brought back.
"Oh? Another beautiful being?"
Stelle pointed at herself. Excellent metaphor—her brain was spinning.
"I have yet to introduce myself. I am Argenti, of the Knights of Beauty. Might I have the honor of learning your esteemed names?"
"So you're the one who rear-ended the Express?" Stelle cautiously pulled out her bat.
"Uh, come on, take this seriously… He doesn't seem like a bad guy. Hi, I'm March 7th."
"A pleasure to meet you both! My apologies—moments ago I was elucidating the meaning of Beauty to this potted plant."
"Forgive my forwardness, but out of habit I must ask the two of you as well: as fellow lifeforms in this universe, are you aware of the goddess of Beauty, Idrila?"
Argenti gazed at the potted plant beside him with deep affection. Even under the eerie green glow, in this absurd and bizarre atmosphere, the plant… remained beautiful.
"Idrila?"
"The Knights of Beauty travel freely across worlds, spreading the name of Beauty throughout the cosmos so that all beings may know of HER existence. We hold ourselves to the strict creed of our faith—tempering our bodies, defending our honor."
"Wait, weren't you here to help?"
"Yes, but not only that. Just as I proclaim Beauty's presence to this potted plant, what I seek is an encounter—a collision and exchange of hearts and ideals."
Seeing how seriously Argenti was treating the plant, March 7th asked, "Uh… are you actually complimenting us?"
"Why? Why would you ask that? Never doubt yourselves!" Argenti said earnestly.
"But you're complimenting a plant!"
"Every word and action of mine is sincere. I believe its heart is as clear as a mirror."
Hearing Argenti say that, Stelle and March 7th cautiously stopped responding. The déjà vu was overwhelming… A long time ago, an elf who called herself a saint had said the exact same thing.
Ah, it must be a universal pickup line.
"Now, I have given you a brief introduction to Beauty. I am deeply curious—do the two of you acknowledge this ideal and believe in Idrila?"
"I can acknowledge it."
Stelle said diplomatically—she wasn't a single-Path Pathstrider, after all.
"I see… Stelle, forgive my presumption, but you do not yet fully understand Beauty, and thus cannot accept it… I respect different beliefs, yet in this moment…"
"Since you do not know Beauty's existence, I can only make HER manifest through the way of a knight—"
"I beseech you for a duel of chivalry. Should I be fortunate enough to emerge victorious, then please acknowledge that the goddess of Beauty, Idrila, is unrivaled in HER splendor!"
Stelle hesitated, hearing the pure conviction in his voice. "…Have you actually seen Idrila's true appearance?"
"No, that is an unwritten rule before any knightly contest—I apologize. Replacing poetry with combat is the convincing way of the Knights of Beauty… Moreover…"
"Forgive me—I am not skilled with words."