After drinking the water from the dipper, Philip sat back down at his writing desk. He picked up his quill, and its tip finally landed on the parchment.
He finally began to write.
He was absolutely serious; his preparations just took a little while.
The next moment, however, he suddenly looked up.
"Oh Lord, who has allowed dust to cover Your eyes?"
He had keenly noticed the worrisome state of cleanliness of the Holy Image about four meters away.
He strode over to the Holy Image, tugged on his sleeve, and stood on his tiptoes, trying to wipe away the dust.
"BANG!"
The iron door was kicked open.
Eric had finally had enough!
"Phil—"
"Eric!?"
Eric hadn't even finished saying his name before Philip called out, grabbing both his hands with ghostly speed.
'He was clearly four meters away just a second ago, damn it.'
'I've known him all this time and never knew he had a blink Skill.'