Two days ago, I had sat down with Yasmin on the naked and unadorned floor of my dungeon’s main building. I had been worried that, without her, the chain of command would still function and her immediate subordinate would take charge.

It was a big risk, because if that happened, then our timeframe would be completely cut short. That person would contact the Order with the news that the [Oracle] had died, and the gears would start turning.

The city would receive a new ruler, probably someone who was a real supporter of the Sanctum—unlike Yasmin. And with a new ruler, reinforcements would come in no time.

So, when someone challenged me from the other end of the stairs, I inevitably replayed the conversation in my mind.

“How are you so sure that they are not here already? The summoning site is still there; they could have used it.” I had asked at the time.

“Easy! Operating a summoning site is not cheap, so all summonings have to be System-approved by me.”

“They can't just add themselves in?”

“Not unless they have more authority than me. I guess the [Oracle] did for a while, until, you know,” she moved her finger along her neck in a gesture that perfectly translated to my knowledge from Earth.

For once, I was glad that the system was a thing. Had it been any other way, we would probably already be fighting someone far stronger than the [Oracle] himself.

Thus, it all begged the question: who has this person who was calling me a youngster? I might look like one, but he would think twice of using that word if he knew my actual age.

That moment hit me like a train. An actual young boy, in his puberty at most, was facing a crowd and telling them that, essentially, for now on, he would be their ruler.

That was absolutely impossible in Earth. Everyone would have laughed at the kid and ignored him. Here, however, power was above age and appearances. If I could back up my words—and I already had when I killed the [Oracle]—then they would follow me.

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I turned around to meet the person behind the voice. If his appearance was to be trusted, the strength and gravitas of his tone didn't match the fragile look of the old person I was seeing.

Resting on a crane that had even more curbs than his abused and misused back, he was shaking like a leaf blown by the wind. The fact that his voice didn't reflect the decrepitude of his body was an authentic manifestation of magic.

[Guide]

More than a guide, he looked like a tarotist who was about to predict my imminent death and, at the same time, curse me for good measure.

“Why wouldn't I?”

I ignored the part of me that was still raveling at being called a youngster. Focusing on that would get me nowhere, and the issue at hand was his silent threat to my claim for the city.

“Well, you are too young to understand, but I have seen Her. Mother veils for us. Once you understand, it’s simply impossible not to have faith. Our folks here have been followers of the Order for as long as they have lived. And you just want to barge in and change that?“

I was looking with more than interest as he kept on talking about Mother, faith, and how these people truly believed in all of that.

“And this is how you make sure you guide them so they follow the faith?” I pointed up.

It was too familiar scenery that I was seeing, one that I had already had the pleasure of breaking before. A small cloud of energy, foggy and undefined, was slowly descending from the sky right above our heads.

The exact same technique that Lebil had used was put on display here, except that it looked slightly larger. Probably Lebil had focused on a combat variant, which made it more concentrated, while this fraudster specialized in crowd control—in the literal sense.

Once the trick was exposed, getting rid of the skill was straightforward. I simply had to send a pulse upwards and charge it with some of my solidified energy. It took less than a second for the whole thing to crumble.

“So!” I turned around as dust particles descended from the sky. “Do you want to join me, or be mind-controlled again into some sect?”

I knew I was speaking half-truths. Not everyone in the Church, or the Order, would manipulate people to get to their results. Mother was, as far as I knew, a real entity whose power I couldn’t even begin to imagine.

But to us—me and the citizens—the scope of reality was constrained to what we could see and feel at that moment.

“Old man! I think you have your answer right here!” I said when the crowd’s roar rejected the idea of joining the Church again. “As my last act of good faith,” I said totally playing with the word ‘faith’, “I’ll let you run and join your peers. But don’t mistake my offer for weakness; if you choose to stay, today is your last day in this world.”

Sadly, the comical scene where the old man literally ran away did not happen. He groaned and smacked his crane to the floor. His body groaned when he turned away, and his bones creaked as he slowly and grumbly departed.

“Welcome to Nova!”

In a moment of divine inspiration, I realized that I had absolutely no clue about the city name. Sure, someone had told me a while ago, something to do with the Church as far as I remembered.

Either way, fresh starts, fresh names.