The fairy maid cheers for her deceased master today.

Dead people don't need sleep.

But X can pretend to be asleep.

When X opened his eyes again, the morning mist was creeping in through the window.

Angel curled up on the wooden box belonging to her maid, her silver hair covered in sawdust—she had fallen asleep again, clutching an ancient creature encyclopedia.

The original owner did not provide this maid with a bed. She slept on a makeshift bed made of boxes, covered with a blanket.

However, Angel seems to be quite comfortable in the small bed and is sleeping soundly.

The pages of the book in her arms were open on "The Evolution of Wings in Ancient Creatures," and her pointed ears were trembling slightly with her breath.

After hearing the epic story last night, X asked her, "And what about your wings?"

As a result, Angel spent the whole night trying to find out whether fairies should have wings.

Ax thought it was futile. "The Epic of the Gods"—the title alone sounded like a pirated book. So it was completely unreliable.

But it's good for teasing the maids too.

"Wake up... I don't think fairies have wings." X knocked on the box.

Angel, still half-asleep, woke up instantly.

She slammed the book shut, her blue eyes wide with surprise: "But the story says—"

"A story is a story." He pulled his dark gray coat over his shoulder and buttoned it up with metal buttons. "Are you suggesting that all fairies these days are canaries with their wings plucked?"

Angel was furious and couldn't argue back.

At exactly five o'clock, the person knocking on the window slammed their long pole against the glass. Bang! Bang!

Angel was already squatting by the window, clutching a sky-blue dress.

"Master! The new dress has pockets! It can hold three strawberry candies!"

"Wearing an old one." Ex tossed the faded cloth skirt over. "The black-robed members of the Holy Order probably hate things that are so conspicuous."

Angel's ears drooped down in a flash: "But... Lillian said we have to dress up nicely for the audition."

Lillian Ex still vaguely remembered her; she was one of the other fairies on trial whom she had met at the church before.

"Lillian had her ears measured three times with silver calipers last month." Ax fastened his cufflinks, glancing at Angel's instantly tense back. "Do you want to be seriously scrutinized by Samuel?"

The cloth skirt rustled to the ground. Angel hurriedly changed into another dress, completely forgetting that her master had seen her naked.

When she remembered, she immediately squatted down, covered her head, and steam rose from her head.

"Alright, you're my maid, everything you have is mine."

"Oh, that makes sense!"

So you just accept it like that? Where did your intelligence of 80 go?

Once Angel had recovered, she began tying her ribbons.

Ex immediately grabbed her hand.

"Don't cover your ears." He pulled away the ribbon. "We're not going to the Crystal Palace."

Angel muttered to herself, "They'll measure it! The metal calipers are so cold!"

"Measure it then." AX grabbed his pocket watch. "It's better than sending it into the cleanroom, isn't it?"

They continued preparing as they talked, and Angel even had some bread for breakfast. Finally, the appointed time arrived.

"Let's go, the carriage is downstairs, it's time."

The pre-booked coachman had been waiting for quite some time. Morning mist condensed into ice flowers on the carriage windows.

Axe skillfully got into the car, sat down, and quietly waited for the moment of review.

Angel peered out the car window, her blue eyes suddenly lighting up: "Master! The Crystal Palace!"

It seems she hasn't had enough shopping yet.

But not today. Ax simply shook his head slightly.

With a slight jolt from the carriage, the spire of the Church of the Holy See finally pierced the mist, appearing as white as a sword unstained by blood.

Two friars stood at the church entrance, each with silver ornaments hanging from their pointed ears.

One of the fairies picked up a staff, and a red light swept across the angel.

Startled, Angel quickly gripped X's hand tightly; his fingertips were as cold as ice. To be colder than a dead man like herself, she truly lived up to her reputation as an ice-attribute fairy.

"What's wrong?"

"The chains are rattling." Her voice trembled. "It's Deacon Samuel's silver chains!"

Ex looked up.

Everything was normal; there was no one else at the door. Perhaps it was because Angel's hearing was too good.

Angel was still too afraid of that Deacon Samuel.

■

The church's oak doors are studded with seven rows of silver nails, arranged in the shape of thorns.

Pushing open the door reveals a spacious hall that leads to several other areas.

This is not like the church I had in mind.

"Stay close," X's voice was choked between his teeth. Angel immediately pressed close, her hand gripping his coat, her blue eyes scanning the ceiling—strange glass jars hung under a silver chandelier.

One wall was filled with display cases.

One of the glass cases even contained a tuft of hair floating in the air.

"It's a fairy's hair..." Angel's voice became even softer.

X went over to take a look. The glass case read: "Characteristics of the Swamp-like Uncontrolled Fairy—Uncontrolled Hair Growth."

In an instant, the hair transformed into black claws, lunging straight at X.

It slammed against the glass dome.

Angel was startled.

But X, a veteran of countless horror games, remained calm.

Ex glanced to the side. A Templar Knight stood against the wall, his armor gleaming coldly in the candlelight.

The main reason is the presence of the Templars... which gives people a great sense of security. When they're allies, these tin cans are quite reliable.

X's gaze then fell on the signs of several passageways: Area A (Safe)... Area B (Observation)... Area C (Containment).

"This isn't a church," X made a new assessment. "It's more like a cage for monsters."

"It's a cage for out-of-control goblins." A white-robed priest floated out from the side door, chuckling as he replied. His glasses were as thick as the bottom of a beer bottle. "You're very punctual, Sir Moore. Please come to room 207 on the second floor."

His gaze swept over Angel, as if he were looking at a rabbit in a laboratory.

The priest in white then slowly left.

Following the directions, Ax went up the steps.

Passing by a room, the words "Cleanroom" on the door were glowing red, and steam was leaking from the crack in the door, as if something was being cooked inside.

Angel even closed her eyes in nervousness.

I didn't dare to secretly open my eyes until I had walked through the cleanroom.

X squeezed her hand, and Angel finally relaxed a little.

X looked around: "I feel like there are... a bit too many testing methods here."

The second-floor corridor smelled of disinfectant. A row of silver detectors lined the wall; when the red light swept across them, it suddenly clicked and then went out. The dial pointer remained at zero.

A cold smile curled at the corners of X's lips.

As expected, the energy of the living dead is not within the scope of the Holy Way Society's detection.

The door to Room 207 was white, engraved with crossed silver chains and thorns. The moment the door was pushed open, a questioning voice came from behind—Deacon Samuel was sitting behind an oak table, questioning the person in front of him.

At this moment, three pairs of contract masters and fairies stood in the room. The factory owner at the front was deathly pale. His fairy had her head down, her pointed ears wrapped in gauze, and blood seeped from the gauze, dripping onto the ground like small red flowers.

"A newcomer?" The merchant behind him whispered, "Samuel is wearing a chain of thorns today."

I don't understand it, but it sounds impressive.

When X nodded slightly, Angel shrank back behind him.

"And there's another fairy..." The merchant made a throat-slitting gesture, his Adam's apple bobbing, "...the pollution levels were way off the charts, she was sent straight to the purification chamber. We shouldn't have come today..."

Angel was so frightened that she quickly covered her ears with both hands.

"You can go now. Alright, next." Samuel suddenly looked up, tapping his silver quill on the register.

The merchant slowly stepped forward, and Samuel quickly conducted a simple test.

"Mr. Thomas. Your fairy had C-level potential last time... how come it's only D-level now?"

"This, this..." The merchant's knees began to tremble. "She...she's sick..."

"Illness?" Samuel stood up, his silver chain dragging on the ground with a crisp sound.

He suddenly grabbed the fairy's hand, and his sleeve slipped down, revealing a wound on his arm—the wound gleamed with a metallic sheen, as if it had been rusted.

"Alien contamination and ulceration." A silver chain, like a snake, instantly bound the bewildered fairy. "Control Manual, Article 19: Partially reversible damage, immediate isolation."

"No!" the fairy suddenly screamed, falling to the ground beside the merchant's legs. "It's...it's a steam burn! When I was helping you move the steam engine—"

The businessman closed his eyes in despair.

The Templar Knights and the Holy Order fairies entered together. One of the Holy Order fairies immediately injected the other with a needle, and the other immediately fell into a coma.

"Take him away." Samuel's voice was completely flat.

The fairy was dragged out like a cat being strangled.

Then, with an authoritative and unyielding voice, Samuel pointed his silver pen at Angel.

"Next, Sir Axemore."

The real test has begun.