In the sanctuary in the cathedral’s backyard, Todd slept soundly, dreaming that he seemed to have returned to the university and was living a peaceful life as a teacher.

A knock on the door early in the morning brought him back to reality.

Todd, still half asleep, opened the door to find Tristan, dressed impeccably, standing there calmly watching him.

Todd straightened his collar and asked, "What's the matter?"

Tristan glanced at the cross on the other man's chest and said, "Feliceld brothers, it's time for an early patrol."

"Early morning patrol?" Todd looked completely bewildered. "What's an early morning patrol?!"

Tristan turned and left: "I'll wait for you at the gate in the backyard."

"Hey! Wait!" Todd called out twice, but the other person had vanished in the blink of an eye.

Left with no other choice, he returned to his room, put on his priest's robe, and quickly chased after them.

Standing at the backyard gate, Tristan looked at Todd walking towards him and gestured for him to "keep up with me."

The two walked one after the other along the base of the cathedral wall, surveying the area.

Tristan, walking ahead, seemed to be talking to himself: "The Church is taking the succession dispute in the Holy Guard City very seriously this time, and has specially dispatched Cardinal Jacob to be in charge of all matters..."

Todd remained outwardly calm, but secretly memorized the name.

“Cardinal Jacob opposed all non-clerical forces, including heretics, scholars, and even those myth narrators in the streets. He and my mentor, Cardinal Abel, often attacked each other because of their disagreements.”

Todd couldn't help but ask, "Why did we bring you along? Won't this combination interfere with the work of Holy Guard City?"

Tristan stopped and glanced back at Todd: "It's all thanks to the Pope's great balancing act."

Todd gave him a knowing look and said nothing more.

“There were originally three factions in the Holy City: the royalists were practically defunct due to the king’s terminal illness; the remaining factions were His Highness Sinclair’s liberal faction and His Highness Mathilde’s ecclesiastical faction.”

After touring the cathedral, Tristan led Todd toward the city, saying as they walked, "The entire Holy City is now divided between two forces. The people of the lower city, influenced by the church, mostly support Prince Mathilde; while the nobles and generals of the upper city mostly support Prince Sinclair."

Before the words were finished, a thin woman, barely clothed and carrying her child, was walking down the street. When she saw Todd and Tristan in their black robes, she quickly made way for them and knelt down to one side.

As Tristan walked past the woman, he suddenly stopped, turned around, and placed the back of his hand on the forehead of the child in the woman's arms.

A moment later, Tristan frowned and said to the woman, "Your son has a fever."

“Sir, I know. I am planning to take him to church. The merciful Father will heal him.”

Seeing Tristan's solemn expression, Todd took out a silver moon from his inner pocket and was about to hand it to the woman when she stopped him.

Tristan pulled a jar of bitter herbs from his pocket and handed it to the woman: "This is a potion blessed by the Father. Take it back, boil it in hot water, and then feed it to the child."

Watching the woman leave with her child, thanking him profusely, Todd stood there thoughtfully.

"Let's go, the road ahead is still long."

Tristan pulled down the hem of his hood and slowly walked forward along the street.

Having spent a full day following Tristan on a tour of most of St. Guardian, Todd's mind was still filled with the despairing, numb faces of the residents.

In the evening, Tristan walked toward the cathedral's refectory and saw Todd sitting at a corner table, stirring the stew in his dish with a wooden spoon.

Tristan walked over and sat down in the chair opposite him: "What's wrong? Not to your liking?"

Todd glanced at him and said sarcastically, "For a famine-stricken city, the food here is quite plentiful."

Tristan shrugged: "You say that because you haven't been to any of the Upper Town parties yet."

Todd was taken aback at first, then looked at the food on his plate without saying a word.

Tristan put a slice of smoked ham in his mouth and chewed it carefully. "Brother Feliceld, I've heard of you in church, but yesterday was the first time I met you. To be honest, you're not quite what I've heard."

Todd looked up, squinting. "How is it different?"

"As a close confidant of Pope Padmasambhava and the scribe of the Knights of Mercy, you are actually more... reserved than rumored..."

Todd used a wooden spoon to split a cauliflower in half and said with a smile, "Reserved? People in my position who are too flamboyant won't last long."

Tristan laughed along: "That's right. I heard from your predecessor that he was transferred to a missionary area in the south, and no one has seen him since."

Todd's expression gradually turned serious, only to find that Tristan's smile had become even brighter.

After dinner, Todd returned to his room and, according to the pre-arranged contact time with Rachel, opened his soul space and summoned her.

"What would you call something like this in your world?" Rachel took a wooden skewer with beef on it from the boiling hot pot.

Todd put a bunch of various meat and vegetable skewers into the bottom of the pot, then put the lid on, and opened a can of ice-cold beer for himself and Rachel.

"If you pick up the wooden skewers directly to eat, it's called skewers; if you put the ingredients into a bowl, it's called mala tang."

Rachel, whose mouth was throbbing from the spicy oil on the scalding beef, quickly took the beer Todd offered, gulped it down, and let out a satisfied shout with her eyes closed.

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