So the painting is most likely still in its original location.
During the shocking discussion of the commission, Amila’s response naturally made Fu Qian recall a dimly lit corner.
Given his series of moves, it wasn’t surprising that The Sect had taken some reactive measures. The earlier question wasn’t posed out of diligence—it was solely intended to confirm the situation at the gallery.
If the painting had been directly removed and sealed, enforcing strict closure of the gallery seemed somewhat excessive.
Ultimately, The Sect still believed the painting was utterly unremarkable.
“What about my salary?”
Though very satisfied with this result, Fu Qian did not forget to concern himself with the mundane question.
…
“If I were you, I wouldn’t worry about that.”
Amila remained speechless, while the Lady of the Holy Hall coldly sneered, her tone steeped in mockery.
“Simon will stay with us. Amila and Reginald, return first. I’ll call upon you if needed.”
At this point, Feivel chimed in. Though his words were directed at the three team members, Fu Qian could sense a distinct undertone of targeting.
Clearly, they intended to isolate him from external communication, minimizing the chance of any secrets leaking out. Even the Lady of the Holy Hall’s mocking remarks had been swiftly blocked.
Being able to proceed with this brief exchange with Amila might have also been their way of testing what he might reveal.
Considering this, Fu Qian decided to offer a small compliment, graciously refraining from verbal retaliation.
“Remember what I said earlier.”
Perhaps acknowledging his cooperative attitude, Feivel’s expression softened slightly, though he didn’t forget to remind Amila and Reginald.
…
“This way, Apostle.”
Sure enough, half an hour after Amila and Reginald departed, Fu Qian made no new interactions with anyone—not even a glance.
The latter half of the journey was spent entirely in a private carriage.
When the door was opened from the outside, the Lady of the Holy Hall gestured for him to step out, and he found himself in a silent courtyard. Feivel and Praut were no longer present.
Surveying his surroundings, it wasn’t difficult to identify the architecture of the West District Church.
Under the night sky, the pointed spires appeared even sharper than they had yesterday, piercing directly toward the heavens.
It was somewhat understandable now, the noble Bloodline Clan’s obsession with this meeting location.
Despite his musings, Fu Qian didn’t mind the Lady’s curt tone and accepted her invitation to disembark without hesitation.
It was evident that, although she barely masked her loathing for him, the Lady of the Holy Hall wasn’t a reckless fool.
Throughout their subsequent traverse, she maintained a hyper-vigilant posture, ready to summon reinforcements at the slightest disturbance.
The tense atmosphere persisted until they arrived before a peculiar door, and Fu Qian entered the room as signaled.
“Satisfied with this place?”
Standing outside with her hand gripping the doorframe, the Lady of the Holy Hall spoke for the second time, a faint smile playing on her lips.
“It’s quiet enough. Will someone be stationed out here?”
Examining the windowless room and its walls that shimmered with a night-sky-like hue, Fu Qian wasn’t surprised.
Someone like him, with unique circumstances, was naturally confined to a special place.
Even his previous visit to Orintel had been in a similar setting, although the layout had been far superior.
“No. But trust me, there’s no safer place in all of Leytin than this, and I believe you’ll soon understand this—or perhaps you already have?”
The Lady’s smile deepened as her gaze swept over Fu Qian, filled with implications.
“On the way here, it seems like you’ve already attempted something unusual?”
No wonder Feivel was so confident that Fu Qian couldn’t escape under her watchful eye; her observational skills were razor-sharp.
“Apologies for the trouble.”
Fu Qian nodded graciously. The attempt in question had been simple—Blood Conquest.
Yesterday, he’d used this ability to leap and twist through here, so he tested it briefly the moment he sensed the anomalous aura earlier.
The test confirmed his suspicion: Blood Conquest had completely lost its efficacy.
The church before him seemed to outright forbid “jumping.”
This arrangement was clearly constructed in response to his actions yesterday. While outwardly unchanged, the true restrictions were tightening.
“No trouble at all; we promised to entertain you, after all.”
Seemingly convinced of Fu Qian’s relationship with Herbert, the Lady now smiled brightly. However, the next moment, she held back further mocking remarks and simply shut the door.
It appeared that yesterday’s events had taught them that, for an “Apostle,” people were far less dependable than decrees.
Fu Qian didn’t mind this, instead analyzing the clues he’d gathered.
Regarding its supposed safety, he had little reason to doubt the church’s claims.