Whoosh!
The Fla Archangel spread its radiant yellow wings, armored feathers gleaming like polished gold. In its hand, a blazing sword pulsed with searing energy, and the temperature in the room subtly rose.
"Whimper..."
The little Barghest instinctively sensed the overwhelming pressure emanating from the angel. Letting out a soft whine, it ducked behind Lyle's legs, trembling in fear.
Lyle gave the newly summoned third-tier angel a once-over, eyes scanning it with a mixture of curiosity and appreciation.
"Faith-based magic really is... sothing else."
He recalled the casting process—it struck him as odd. He hadn't needed to believe in any particular god or deity. During ditation, he had focused inward.
"If people in this world draw their power from belief in the Six Divine Ones... why can't I believe in myself?" Lyle had reasoned. "I'm a player, after all."
And then—
He had felt it. A vague but distinct presence. Like a cluster of magic hanging in the air.
To test it, he had shifted his focus, recalling the imagery of angels from stories in his past life—wings, swords, halos, light.
That strange magical presence responded again.
What exactly was it?
To Lyle, it didn't feel like divine intervention. It felt more like natural energy—sothing fundantal to this world's magical structure. And through it, he had summoned the Fla Archangel.
The entire process... was difficult to explain.
If he had to describe it—
"It's like I injected my intent into that energy, and it responded. No—more like I was being evaluated."
Yes, judged.
Although Lyle couldn't say what was being judged exactly, he could tell the process happened instantly—like the flick of a switch.
He glanced up at the angel, still hovering silently in mid-air. With only a thought, he could command it. Without direct orders, the summoned being instinctively prioritized protecting him.
That made it perfect for soone like Lyle—posing as a spellcaster, masking his close-combat prowess.
"My faith-based spellcasting level is now 40. That should put in the range for sixth-tier spells—36 through 42."
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, returning to ditation.
So far, he had access to four convertable faith-based classes: Priest, Priestess, Forest Priest, and Cleric—each leveled to 10.
Thanks to the earlier experience, Lyle easily entered the ditative state again. A ripple of magic began to surface from his body—
Only to vanish the next second.
He frowned and opened his eyes. "Huh? Failed?"
He tried again.
And failed again.
After several more attempts, Lyle ca to an unsettling conclusion—he couldn't summon a fourth-tier angel.
"I get it now..."
Realization flickered in his eyes.
When he summoned the third-tier angel earlier, the sensation of judgnt was subtle—almost ignorable. But now, each failure made that feeling impossible to ignore.
There were three judgnts involved in angel summoning.
First—Mastery of the spell Angel Summoning. Lyle had that. First judgnt: Passed.
Second—The level of the faith-based spellcaster. His was 40. Second judgnt: Passed.
Third—His player level.
The fourth-tier angel fell within levels 22 to 28. But Lyle himself was only level 21. He couldn't summon sothing stronger than himself.
Therefore—Failed.
This idea of "judgnt" was Lyle's way of understanding the process, borrowing ga terminology to make sense of it.
In this world, regular mages wouldn't experience this kind of mismatch. Their class level and overall power grew in sync. But Lyle's system was different. His caster level could exceed his personal level, creating an imbalance.
"For native mages, learning higher-level spells is a gradual process—they increase their class level, then learn the spell."
"But I summoned a third-tier angel because I already had the second-tier version and forced it through with higher casting power."
He gave a soft, ironic chuckle. "So this is how faith-based magic works here, huh?"
That mysterious cluster of energy—it was likely a form of natural mana intrinsic to this world.
Faith-based spellcasting didn't seem to be about blind devotion. It was about tuning oneself to particular types of energy—resonance, not religion.
So was faith just a way to better align with the world's elental forces?
That was Lyle's theory—but he wasn't fully certain. Back in the ga, it was all just background fluff. And in this world, he hadn't exactly sat down to have a chat with a native faith-caster.
Still—
Through this firsthand experience, Lyle felt like he finally had a more complete picture of the faith-based magic system.
Boom—
A soft magical tremor drew his attention back to the room.
The guardian angel he'd summoned earlier—through a scroll—began to dissolve. Its entire body shimred and broke apart into particles of light.
Startled, Lyle grabbed the pocket watch on the desk and checked the ti.
"Just over twenty-nine minutes... call it half an hour."
"That's more than enough for a typical battle."
He ntally took note of the duration, then looked toward the Fla Archangel he had summoned with his own magic.
So far, it showed no signs of fading.
Clearly, self-summoned beings could last longer—so long as they weren't destroyed.
"Ti to test its power."
Lyle reached into the air and pulled out his Silence wand.
With a flick of his wrist, an invisible barrier expanded outward, covering the room and sealing all sound.
The room, built for adventuring parties, was sparse—just a bed and a wooden table. But it was open enough for what he had in mind.
"Attack ," he commanded.
Whoosh!
The Fla Archangel, dormant until now, suddenly stirred. A red glow passed across the visor of its helm, and its wings snapped once in the air.
Shnk!
With explosive speed, it dashed forward. The flaming sword in its hand slashed downward with lethal precision.
Lyle ducked low, evading the first strike, then pushed off with his back foot, widening the distance between them.
"Speed's decent—about the sa as a full-grown Barghest."
Expression cold, he rotated his wrist, and an iron longsword appeared in his hand. He raised it just in ti to block the incoming blow.
Clang!
Fire and steel collided, sending sparks flying.
Grkkk—
A harsh grinding sound rang out as their weapons clashed.
Lyle stepped slightly inward, bracing his stance. His eyes lit up.
"Good strength."
He glanced at the angel's weapon. It radiated with dual elents—fla and holiness. Ideal for fighting undead, but even against normal foes, the fire alone would do plenty of damage.
"Well then. My turn."
With a grunt, Lyle surged forward, tightening his grip on the sword and suddenly kicking out, aiming directly at the Fla Archangel's armored chest.
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