In the world of FBO , the NPCs who managed the temples dedicated to the gods were special beings.
After all, they were the ones who oversaw the temples—the very points of contact with the actual gods.
It was unthinkable for them not to be important.
The clergy known as priests, who served these gods, held no direct political power, yet their influence was great enough to sway politics.
These were, after all, the gods who had created the world.
Celestial beings that no human could ever hope to match, no matter how hard they tried.
With the priests managing a portion of the divine power bestowed upon mortals, their authority was anything but weak.
An organization wielding such influence, with temples established across every continent except the central one—all managed by priests—ant that even the nobility, who ruled over human society, couldn’t afford to make enemies of them lightly.
If soone were to attack even a single temple, the news would spread instantly across the entire continent, and the assailant would imdiately be branded an enemy of the gods.
At that point, living openly would beco nearly impossible.
With the temples as their enemy, the ard might of the Temple Knights would descend upon them, and even if they fled, the watchful eyes of the faithful would never allow their escape.
Even the king of a nation couldn’t afford to recklessly oppose the temple as an organization.
Hearing all this, one might think the temples held enough power to dominate the world—but that was far from the case.
First and foremost, this world had no corrupt priests who hid behind religion to act as they pleased.
Or rather, it would be more accurate to say such individuals couldn’t exist.
In many fantasy stories, religious organizations were often depicted as hotbeds of corruption, with only a few righteous clergy barely maintaining appearances—a common trope.
From there, stories often followed the formula of purging the corruption and restoring the organization to its true, pious form.
However, in this world, falsifying the words of the gods was outright impossible.
There were no crooked cult leaders who spouted nonsense like, *"The gods demand you offer your beautiful daughters,"* or *"I am the gods' chosen—give tribute, and I shall ensure your peace in the afterlife."* No sches where greedy charlatans exploited devout, ignorant followers to line their own pockets.
Such things simply couldn’t happen here.
If soone falsely claid, *"The gods have spoken,"* divine punishnt would strike them down.
If soone waged war under the pretense of divine will, declaring, *"I act for the gods' righteous cause,"* divine punishnt would follow.
The gods demanded only one thing from the temples and priests: the maintenance and inspection of the divine system they had created.
Any attempt to twist their mandate for personal gain—whether out of misguided righteousness or malice—would be t with divine retribution, no exceptions.
To even think of exploiting the gods' power or interpreting their will for personal ends was fundantally wrong, a truth ingrained into the very marrow of this world.
Thus, corruption within the temples was nonexistent.
Any tainted elents would be swiftly excised by the gods themselves, leaving no room for concealnt—a principle upheld throughout their long history.
That said, did this an every priest was a stern, incorruptible paragon of virtue?
The answer was no.
While there were nad characters as saintly as depicted in paintings, there were also lazy, unmotivated priests among their ranks.
Within the temple organization, what truly mattered wasn’t piety—but competence.
As long as one properly maintained the divine system without exploiting it for personal gain, even a lack of devout faith wouldn’t prevent them from working within the temples.
So even held side jobs as adventurers or rchants while still being affiliated with the temples.
Naturally, the temples had their own hierarchy.
In the ga, the ranks of the temple priests were divided into seven tiers: Archbishop, Bishop, High Priest, Priest, Head Priest, Priest, and Priest Apprentice.
Each major continent had one Archbishop, four Bishops, sixteen High Priests, and countless lower-ranked priests.
If we could et soone who had, even temporarily, reached the very top of this hierarchy—it would be a guaranteed win.
**"No way we’d find her that easily."**
**"My apologies. Even with my connections, I couldn’t locate her."**
**"Nah, I didn’t expect her to just show up right away either."**
The woman we were searching for—Claudia—was a priestess who could potentially beco our greatest ally as our guardian.
The god she served was Akam, the God of Battle.
In other words, she was a full-fledged combat-oriented priest.
Her fighting style was that of a martial monk—healing herself while crushing enemies barehanded.
Her body bore countless scars, her face included, and she had devoted her entire life to battle, to the point where one might say she had forsaken her femininity.
The reason she had risen to the rank of Archbishop was precisely because of her relentless, ascetic strength.
She was a living legend of her generation, having crushed all who threatened the gods' system and monsters alike with her fists, tirelessly upholding order and peace.
For a re commoner like to even dream of securing an audience with her was absurd from the start.
But as long as there was an event quest to recruit her as an ally, the possibility wasn’t zero.
So might worry that attempting such a quest would incur divine wrath, but I had already explained to Nel and the others—as long as we didn’t spread harmful rumors or interfere with the gods' system, no divine punishnt would befall us. Thus, they had agreed to seek out Claudia.
**"We don’t even know if she’s on this continent. The highest chance is probably the central one."**
Even if we *could* et her, the odds of finding her in the royal capital were near zero—she was likely wandering the world on another training journey.
**"Liberta, it’s your turn. Ugh, are Rainbow Chests really this rare?"**
**"If they dropped easily, they wouldn’t be special. Alright, my turn now. Be right back."**
**"Be careful."**
**"With my current stats, losing to a Mochi would be harder than winning."**
Ideally, we would’ve t Claudia before our eting with the Duke, but that was scheduled for the day after tomorrow.
With only one day left, the chances seed nonexistent.
Ingrid had helped gather information, but we still hadn’t found her.
So now, we were stuck grinding the Mochi Dungeon for Rank-Up Orbs.
Why weren’t we out adventuring? Because we’d received updates about Dent.
Word had spread that adventurers from the western continent were swarming all the best leveling spots, creating serious tension with adventurers from the southern continent.
While they seed to get along fine with noble-born adventurers, conflicts with commoners were escalating, and hunting grounds were growing dangerously hostile. We’d been warned to avoid trouble unless we had a way to handle it.
Since our only options were to wait for our bodies to mature or seek the Duke’s protection, we had no choice but to temporarily halt open-world hunting.
Instead, we focused on gathering skill-enhancing items and mass-producing Rice Lotion for funds.
At Class 2, with leveling mostly complete, the Mochi were no challenge.
Even the Mirror Mochi boss died in seconds.
With most skills already maxed and leveling intentionally halted using Training Bracelets, this was purely a loot-farming routine.
I wouldn’t call it *pointless*, but it *was* a waste of ti.
A Gold Mochi Key drop would’ve been nice, but after days of runs, even Nel’s Real Luck hadn’t triggered—just endless Rice Lotion.
This ti, the Mirror Mochi dropped a wooden chest containing only the minimum guaranteed magic stone.
I imdiately exited and used one of our spare Mochi Dungeon Keys to dive right back in.
Each run took under two minutes. With three keys, we could chain them efficiently.
**"Good work, Amina."**
**"I’m exhausted… Day after day of nothing but alchemy. At least Ingrid handles the bottling, but doing the sa thing over and over is so boring."**
**"Lady Theresia’s thrilled, though."**
Thanks to the sheer volu of materials we gathered daily, Amina’s Alchemy had maxed out.
At this point, the only reason to keep making Rice Lotion was for money.
**"I’ll go make the delivery for tomorrow. Rest up."**
**"I’ll co too."**
**"I’ll help with dinner prep."**
**"Then, Lady Amina, please take care of the rest."**
Once again, our efforts had yielded little, so as a final task, we headed to Nel’s family ho before sunset to deliver the Rice Lotion.
Despite not knowing when we’d produce more, every batch sold out instantly, so Theresia bought everything we made.
After packing the bottles into boxes with cushioning and loading them onto a cart, we set off.
With our improved dungeon-clearing speed and Amina’s enhanced alchemy setup, production had skyrocketed—along with the sheer volu of Rice Lotion we transported.
For two kids, pushing such a heavily laden cart would normally be exhausting, but for us, it was easy.
If anything, loading and unloading the boxes was the tedious part.
**"Hey, Liberta… How long are we going to stay like this?"**
**"I… don’t know. I’m sorry."**
**"It’s not your fault."**
The walk to Nel’s ho was anything but cheerful.
The uncertainty of whether we could continue living freely weighed on her words, lacing them with unease.
She had asked this sa question multiple tis, and each ti, my inability to give a clear answer filled with guilt.
**"……"**
The rest of the journey passed in silence until we reached Nel’s family store.
**"Ah, Liberta! Nel! Perfect timing!"**
**"Lady Theresia?"**
**"Mom? What’s wrong? You seem flustered."**
Normally, we’d head around back to unload, but Theresia—who had been pacing in front of the store—spotted us and imdiately dragged us and our cart to the entrance.
**"Well, you see, a custor ca specifically to buy Rice Lotion after hearing rumors about our shop. We were out of stock, so I told them to wait, saying you’d arrive soon."**
**"That’s unusual. You’d normally never play favorites like this, Mom."**
**"This person is special!"**
For Theresia to go out of her way like this—it had to be soone truly noteworthy.
**"Shopkeeper, I’ve already passed my duties to the next generation. There was no need to trouble yourself so."**
**"Nonsense! We’re all indebted to you. After everything you’ve done for peace, this is the least we can do."**
As this exchange reached our ears, a woman stepped out from inside the store.
She carried a traveler’s woven parasol and wore loose, dark blue robes reminiscent of a monk’s attire.
Tall for a woman—standing over 170 cm but under 180—her short-cropped gray hair frad a face marked by a missing left eye, a single sharp, hawk-like right eye, and scars running down her left cheek and across her nose.
The mont I saw her, my eyes widened.
Could this be why Nel’s Real Luck had been so quiet lately?
**"Lady Claudia?!"**
**"Oh my, does a lovely young lady like you know my na? May I ask yours, dear fox girl?"**
**"I-I’m Nel."**
**"Nel… A fine na."**
Her natural aura of authority was overwhelming.
Even in the ga, she had stood out among nad NPCs, but her presence in person was on another level entirely.
Her gaze slowly shifted to .
**"And might the young man share his na as well?"**
**"Liberta."**
Those piercing eyes seed to see right through . My back straightened instinctively, tension coiling through my body.
All the plans I’d ntally rehearsed for this mont evaporated, leaving speechless.
**"Liberta, there’s no need for such tension. My past titles are just that—past. Though I’m called a legend and was once an Archbishop, now I’m rely a humble Priest. Just a traveler seeking to soothe my weary skin with this wonderful product."**
Her tone was gentle, clearly trying to put at ease.
But standing before Claudia—a woman whose sheer presence was more imposing than I’d ever imagined—my mind raced, struggling to form coherent words.
**"Take your ti. Tell what you wish to say."**
Her calm, dignified words finally steadied enough to speak.
And what ca out of my mouth was—
**"Please fight !!"**
All my carefully prepared phrasing vanished, leaving only a blunt, straightforward challenge.
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