"Ugh, that familiar [next time for sure] line!"
"The Navigator's schedule is packed... Looks like it's really just us two this time."
"Alright, that's settled—I'll head to my room and pack. Come find me when you're ready. We could even try convincing Teacher Adrian one more time."
...
Minutes later, Passenger Car
Stelle pushed open the door to her room, freezing on the spot at the sight before her.
She saw skirts in soft lavender and white intertwining, flowing gracefully, adorned with snowflake and ice crystal motifs that evoked a winter theme's beauty.
"How's this—my new dress? What do you think?"
Stelle's gaze locked on those crystalline snowflakes and ice shards, some embroidered, others embedded in the gossamer fabric. They shimmered with the light's dance, as if capturing winter's most exquisite moments on the hem.
March 7th's signature pink bob perfectly complemented the outfit's blend of romance, delicacy, and a touch of fantastical icy whimsy.
"Dressed to the nines, huh~"
"It's been in my closet forever—just no chance to wear it till now. Finally, an occasion like this? Gotta glam up proper!"
"But you... You aren't seriously packing just that one outfit, are you..." March 7th's official roast.
Stelle flashed an awkward grin. "Hey, I'm a loyal Stellaron Spirit—don't switch looks unless I have to! Gotta keep my signature style!"
"Fine, fine—forget I said anything! As long as one of us minds the presentation, we're golden!"
"Lemme see... Pajamas, hand warmer pouch, and Pom-Pom's plushie... All set! Ready to roll!"
March 7th spun around suddenly. "Wait, how'd you pack so fast? Nothing else to bring?"
Stelle pointed to her bat and hourglass necklace. "A lone wanderer's got no need for baggage!"
"Hmph~ As if I'd buy that—don't try fooling me! Go pack your stuff!"
"Jarilo-VI... I peeked at Uncle Yang's observation logs earlier. Compared to our first Trailblaze there, the planet's average temps are back to normal—fully habitable now!"
"So happy for Bronya and Seele and the rest~ Gotta thank Pontiff Blake properly too."
Stelle packed at breakneck speed, even dragging in the slacking Adrian.
"Teacher Adrian! You do wanna join the festival after all!"
"Nope, I'm just here to open the portal."
"Wah~ After all we've been through as colleagues, not even a shred of face?..." March 7th's eyes half-lidded, a trace of melancholy slowly creeping across her face, a subtle sorrow enveloping her without warning.
It was clear—she desperately wanted one more travel buddy for her [Trailblaze] squad. Just the two of them felt a bit sparse.
"March, I approve your acting chops! Let's head out—festival time!"
March 7th's demeanor flipped in an instant: "Yay! Belobog, get ready for this lady's grand return!"
...
Far beyond the stellar abyss, Eternity Sanctum
"Ah~ Praise be to our lord."
Blake closed the [Eternity Doctrine], wrapping up his morning prayer.
"By the way, how's the search for Screwlloyd going?" He turned to the acting high priestess behind him.
"No leads yet. You know how Deacon Screwlloyd's as elusive as Lady Freesna—loves going solo... Plus that masterful disguise. Finding it's no easier than Ite THEMSELVES returning to the Church."
"But good news: The Knights found Deacon Screwlloyd's phone. Might backtrack its whereabouts."
"The Church and all... It doesn't matter anymore."
Beside him, the acting priestess who'd just finished her report stared blankly, her once-vibrant eyes dulled.
"Devout priestess, what brings such words?"
Blake approached the enshrined milk tea cup, pulling out a sponge to gently wipe it down.
"Pontiff, in the days since you and Lady Freesna left... Do you know how many documents I signed, how many citizen proposals I replied to...?"
"Not eighty thousand, but damn close to eight thousand. Whoever wants this acting Pontiff gig can have it." The priestess dragged over a stool, eyeing her newly muscled forearms—and burst out laughing.
Ah, this must be the [body-building] Pontiff Blake always preached. Felt like she could now deadlift a Legion Voidranger single-handed.
"Lift your head, lost priestess... To the Pontiff, this is but the lightest of routines. A successful Pontiff... Bears no smile upon her face."
"Huh? But you look pretty chipper..."
"Precisely why I'm no fit Pontiff for the Church. I shame Ite—oh! I repent!"
"This is chronicled in the [Eternity Doctrine] too—let me find it. Ah... Article 35: All Church personnel (Pontiff and priests only) showing lax faith must voluntarily depart the Church... To reflect upon themselves."
Seeing Blake suddenly drop to his knees, chanting Doctrine verses nonstop, the acting priestess sensed something off!
What was this ominous vibe? Like an invisible hand clutching her heart, unyielding.
"Mm! In summary, I hereby step down from [Pontiff] duties temporarily—to snag that wandering elf back. While I'm gone... The Church's in your hands! Bye-bye~"
"Wait... Pontiff Blake...!"
No sooner said than Blake and his shadow vanished before the priestess's eyes, leaving only the [Eternity Doctrine].
Acting Priestess: ...
Lady Freesna was right—fleeting hope... Only for eternity's despair to follow.
In a blink, the Church's burdens crashed back onto her.
Ah, might as well resign.
...
At that moment, a bar of soap tugged Blake along in a warp-equivalent high-speed jaunt.
"Vacation time—where to... The [Tavern]?"
"Nope nope, that spot just got bombed. Dropping in might get me mobbed by the Mask of Fools—too risky."
Blake nixed the [Tavern] visit first... Mm, Jarilo-VI with its thawed snows it is. The Supreme Guardian there even sent an invite.
Heard they were hosting a festival bash—how could Blake miss that?
...
Cut to Jarilo-VI
Before the [Neverwinter Workshop], Blake stared at Freesna, at a loss for words.
Her skin gleamed like freshly fallen snow—porcelain-pale, almost translucent.
Those emerald eyes, like gems set in a delicate face, her slightly upturned eyes and pointed ears peeking from silver locks.
She was just as stunned by Blake's arrival.
But the real shocker? Serval, just stepping out of the Workshop.
"Mm, feels like we've had this exact scene ages ago."