As soon as those words were said, the hall instantly fell silent.
“Directly… transfer to the destination? Miracle Snowfield?” Consta’s eyes widened, her voice a little dry.
Transfer Magic!
Only a scale that could accommodate a large-scale teleportation of a group could be called a transfer.
What could only fit one, two, or three individuals was called Teleportation Magic.
At the same time, depending on the level of the living beings being transferred and the quality of the equipment they were wearing, the required magic power and mental energy would increase proportionally.
As the Saintess, Cecilia, and the Royal Knight, Yuna, both had high levels and high-quality equipment.
Consta didn’t know the specifics, but she guessed they were around level fifty, both equipped with Smoky Purple Grade gear.
She didn’t realize that among them was a Demon King whose strength and intelligence values were in the tens of trillions, and whose HP was in the hundreds of trillions!
Furthermore, Consta herself wasn’t a mage, but she knew that the difficulty of Transfer Magic was far from ordinary.
Even constructing a short-distance teleportation magic circle required powerful mental energy and magic power as a foundation.
Let alone one spanning half the kingdom, reaching the northwest polar region—an extremely long distance!
Indeed, the longer the distance, the more magic power and mental energy were needed proportionally.
Just based on that, Consta had already admitted to herself that she had still underestimated the legendary deity from a thousand years ago.
“As expected of the Goddess.”
Consta placed a hand on her chest, closed her eyes, and let out a resigned sigh. A faint smile tugged at her lips, as if mocking her own ignorance and foolishness.
It wasn’t her fault. These days, the number of people willing to trust in a deity was already scarce.
Let alone imagining a deity as all-powerful.
But… a deity indeed should be imagined as an all-powerful being.
If Saint Freya were here, she definitely wouldn’t have made a big fuss; she would have taken it as the most normal thing in the world.
Cecilia’s expression froze on her face.
She had just been imagining a wonderful outdoor life with the Goddess in her mind, and now the Goddess’s words shattered her fantasy.
Directly transfer to the destination?
What about her camping plans then?
What about her bathing plans?!
“Goddess… this, this consumes too much Divine Power. We could actually walk there slowly. There’s no rush.”
Cecilia tried to persuade, her voice dry, attempting to salvage her camping plan.
Primrose glanced at Cecilia. She knew Cecilia was thinking about cuddling and other… intimate things.
But dealing with a Demon King was already a headache, and the shadowy figure she had seen last time through Truth Deduction was likely an existence even more powerful than Dorothy.
She had no time or energy to focus on romantic matters right now.
“Cecilia, the Demon Race could launch a major invasion at any moment. We must confirm the existence of the Hero’s Holy Sword and armor as quickly as possible.”
“There is no time to waste on the road.”
Primrose used the greater good to shut Cecilia up.
Hearing this, Cecilia’s face fell. She silently stepped back, her magic wand in hand, large teardrops streaming down her cheeks like noodles.
With that, Primrose stopped wasting words.
She raised her right hand, palm facing upward.
An immense amount of Divine Power surged rapidly within her body.
No incantation, no intricate spellcasting gestures.
Hummm—
A low hum accompanied a massive golden magic circle that instantly expanded on the tavern floor, centered on Primrose.
The edges of the magic circle shimmered with complex runes, and a golden light illuminated the entire hall.
Lin Naiyue, Cecilia, Yuna, and Dorothy were all enveloped within the golden magic circle.
Consta and Aiwei stood outside the magic circle, staggered backward by the intense waves of Divine Power.
“This… this is the power of Lady Primrose Goddess…”
Consta muttered to herself. Only then did her eyes fill with genuine awe and shock.
Aiwei stood behind her, one hand tightly gripping the sword at her waist, the other shielding herself from the wind caused by the surging waves.
The next second, a blinding golden light burst forth, accompanied by dense particles of light. It pierced through the ceiling and shot straight into the twilight sky of Tattle Town, dazzling anyone who looked.
“What is that…?”
“That direction is the Golden Rose Inn. It must be the Goddess!”
On the streets of Tattle Town, whether they were patrolling guards or commoners buying fruits and vegetables, everyone stared in shock toward the Golden Rose Inn.
The next moment, the light converged and dissipated.
The tavern hall was empty.
Primrose’s group of five had vanished instantly.
—
At the same time.
On the other end, tightly bordering the boundary of Miracle Snowfield, inside the Church Castle of the capital of the Holy Radiance Church State.
In a spacious, long, and quiet corridor, crisp footsteps echoed.
Tap, tap, tap…
On the left side of the corridor was a row of large floor-to-ceiling windows. The sky outside was already darkening, approaching dusk.
On the right side was a towering wall, hung with paintings depicting religious myths.
The figures in the paintings had solemn expressions and cold eyes.
The environment was very quiet, so quiet that only footsteps could be heard.
A young girl was walking down this corridor.
She wasn’t tall, probably around five feet to five feet three inches. Her figure seemed somewhat slender.
Her name was Dolores.
Dolores’s eyes were very unique—golden, with a clear cross pattern imprinted in the pupils. They looked both mysterious and slightly eerie.
She wore a standard Church Priest Steward Uniform. The main color of the garment was pure white, with blue trimming on the edges of the sleeves and some overlapping designs on the clothes.
On the chest and hem of the garment were embroidered many golden religious patterns resembling crosses and rings.
Dolores had silver-gray hair. On top of her head, two small buns were tied on each side, and from under the buns, two long twin tails trailed down, gently swaying behind her as she walked.
On each side of her face, two strands of hair hung down, reaching her fair neck.
Her face was very youthful, her features delicate. She looked exactly like the kind of asexual, expressionless young girl.
But if observed closely, one would find that she actually had quite a figure—it was just hidden under the loose, thick Priest Steward Uniform, creating a visual illusion that made her look flat.
Dolores looked straight ahead, her steps steady.
At the end of the corridor was a thick wooden door carved with intricate religious patterns.
The door suddenly opened.
“Yo, Dolores.”
A blond youth wearing a male priest’s uniform, with two crossed cruciform swords behind his back, walked out. He turned his head and saw Dolores, then greeted her with a smile.
Zeke was a Church Deacon.
The political hierarchy of the Holy Radiance Church State was built on a religious system.
At the very top of the power pyramid stood the Pope, possessing absolute authority and the right of interpretation.
Below the Pope was the Archbishop, responsible for specific affairs.
Below that was the Council of Elders, composed of the seven most senior Bishops, who assisted the Pope and Archbishop in handling national matters.
Below the Council of Elders were the Church Deacons, responsible for executing various tasks.
Dolores was also at the Church Deacon level.
As for the lowest level, it consisted of the vast number of ordinary clergy—that is, all commoners and soldiers.
“You want to participate in this Ice Dragon subjugation too?” Zeke asked again, since she didn’t reply. “Too bad. The Archbishop has already given the last spot to me.”
Zeke spread his hands, his tone feigning helplessness, but it was actually filled with superiority and petty triumph.