Once the dungeon core was secured onto the carriage, we climbed aboard. Silver took the reins again, guiding the horses as we set off toward our next destination.
"Alve, you say your facial expressions barely change regardless of how you feel," Lily mused, "but you seemed incredibly calm when speaking with His Majesty."
Ramon turned toward me. "Have you ever been in a situation like that before, back in your world?"
"Not really," I replied. "I've met all kinds of people, but I think I just don't care enough to get nervous."
"I see…" Ramon didn't press further, but from his expression, I could tell he was trying to make sense of how I acted.
After a short but silent ride, we arrived at the **Central Church**—a grand structure standing tall in the heart of the capital. It wasn't as vast as the royal palace, but its towering architecture and intricate stained-glass windows made it feel just as imposing.
Stepping out of the carriage, we worked together to carry the dungeon core inside. The interior was just as awe-inspiring as the exterior—massive stone columns stretched upward, and golden light filtered through the windows, casting colorful reflections onto the marble floor.
We placed the dungeon core atop an ornate altar. As soon as it settled into place, a girl emerged from one of the side chambers.
She looked around my age, yet there was something undeniably otherworldly about her. Her beauty rivaled that of elves, and her presence felt far too ethereal for a normal teenager.
_Is she the Great Oracle, Saya?_
"You've done well, Ramon," the girl said softly. "I was worried, but now we can begin the next phase."
Then, her gaze landed on me. Her golden eyes widened slightly in surprise.
"Who are you?" she asked. "Your presence is… different. I can't sense any mana from you at all."
Ramon stepped forward. "His name is Alve. We accidentally summoned him due to a mistake in the incantation. That's why we've come here—to ask Goddess Glyss if there's a way to send him back."
Saya's eyes lingered on me for another moment. "An **Otherworlder**…" she murmured. "That explains why he has no mana presence."
Without hesitation, she turned back to the altar. "Very well. Let us begin the ritual."
Approaching the dungeon core, she extended one hand over it and began chanting. The ancient words carried a quiet reverence, echoing faintly within the vast church halls.
After a few moments, she nodded. "This will do. Everyone, place your hand on the dungeon core. I will now begin the prayer."
I hesitated for a second, but seeing the others comply, I followed suit and pressed my palm against the core.
The moment I did, something strange happened.
A faint glow pulsed from the core, and a peculiar sensation spread across my palm—cold, yet invigorating, like fresh morning air.
_What is this feeling?_
A quiet thought crossed my mind.
_Is this what they call… mana?_