Chapter Twenty-Two: The Struggle for Talent

To tell the truth, Mulan had once been exceptionally dedicated to revitalizing the Jonster family. Even now, seeing her name in the newspaper, she could not help but feel a near-instinctive surge of excitement—a subtle affirmation of her own worth. Yet, she could not resist an inward complaint: after having dealt with that deranged murderer—whose name she still did not know—apart from a brief surge in notoriety, the Valentine Police Department had not offered her a single word of commendation, at least nothing of any substance. Perhaps only Leo might benefit from her actions in some way.

“This newspaper must be kept!” she thought.

With that in mind, Mulan tucked the newspaper into the inner pocket of her coat and strode quickly toward the southern district of the city.

Days of fierce wind and heavy rain had kept most people confined to their homes. Though the weather had not yet cleared today, it was still a rare improvement over the past stretch, and so every sanctuary in Valentine was thronged with the faithful.

When Mulan arrived at the southern sanctuary, a large crowd of believers was steadily converging upon its doors. This particular sanctuary was neither grand nor imposing; likely, Irwin was its sole clergyman. There were many such sanctuaries scattered throughout the city. Observing the multitude drawn here, Mulan could not help but marvel inwardly at the success of their missionary efforts.

Naturally, she did not wait outside, but instead followed the flow of people into the sanctuary. Each person entered in turn, searching quietly for an empty seat. There was no noise; even those who knew one another exchanged only a few words in hushed tones.

Mulan recognized no one here and did not seek conversation. She simply found a spot where there were fewer people, settling near the middle toward the back. She had barely sat down when she noticed an elderly woman beside her scrutinizing her intently.

Unable to pretend she hadn’t noticed, Mulan nodded politely. The middle-aged woman, as if to confirm something, took a newspaper from her bag and unfolded it.

“Oh, my God—are you Lord Jonster?”

Valentine was a large city, but news of the retired officer who had single-handedly, in a near-duel, eliminated a deranged killer had spread with astonishing speed. The Valentine Daily’s vivid, if somewhat exaggerated, reporting gave the story far greater impact than any trivial noble gossip or dull political news.

Moreover, the photograph of Mulan had come out especially well. Most residents, especially women, took more than a passing interest. This particular woman, seated close by, recognized her at once.

“Yes, ma’am. But this is a sanctuary—please, let’s remain quiet.”

The middle-aged woman was delighted.

“So it really is you! You rid us of danger—surely the holy light of God shines upon you. May God bless you!”

“Thank you,” Mulan replied politely, resting her hands on her cane and looking forward. The woman, her curiosity satisfied, soon turned her attention ahead as well. Irwin, the clergyman, was approaching slowly, dressed in spotless white robes and wearing a sanctuary emblem: a gold ring with three beams of light engraved within.

When he reached the statue of the Holy Light, Irwin smiled at the gathered congregation. Spotting Mulan among the crowd, his smile grew even brighter.

“Neither wind nor rain can hinder our devotion; the Holy Light protects us all from darkness. Even when evil stirs in our midst, those who feel the will of the Light will arise to defend justice—just as the valiant Lieutenant Mulan Jonster has done!”

With those words of praise, Irwin observed that Mulan showed neither pride nor joy, which only deepened his admiration. Unmoved by praise or blame, steadfast in her self, she surely was favored by God.

The prayer ritual was not lengthy, but many believers lingered to speak with Irwin, confiding their troubles—most having little to do with God at all. Throughout, Irwin maintained a gentle smile, listening patiently and offering advice with a soothing tone.

Mulan waited a long time before most of the congregation had drifted away. During that period, several people had recognized her—either by their own observation or thanks to whispered remarks from others—as the retired lieutenant featured in the newspaper. Many cast her a lingering glance as they departed.

When the sanctuary had mostly emptied, Mulan rose at last, and Irwin approached her with a look of satisfaction and spoke first.

“I have been waiting for you to come. I saw the newspaper. All you have done—God sees it as well!”

Mulan looked at Irwin and asked directly, “And what about the murderer’s deeds—did God see those? If I had not acted, how many more would have died in Valentine? What would God, or the sanctuary, have done?”

Irwin smiled, answering candidly, “God has His own arrangements. For instance—your intervention.”

Mulan forced a thin smile. She disliked such answers. But as she was about to say more, she suddenly frowned. A peculiar sensation made her glance instinctively toward a corner, where she now noticed someone else still seated. At that moment, the stranger stood up.

“Yes, God has His arrangements. That man had already begun to trespass into the inhuman. The sanctuary may not interfere, but we will step in before he does something even worse.”

Irwin turned in surprise toward the source of the voice, astonished to see a believer still present—one he had not noticed at all before.

Mulan relaxed and greeted the newcomer.

“Good day, Sir Walton.”

“Lieutenant, we meet again. In fact, I happened to witness your heroic deeds yesterday. I must say, you exceeded my expectations!”

Happened to witness her deeds? As if! Mulan rolled her eyes inwardly but responded calmly.

“You flatter me. But to clarify, I am retired. Even before that, I’d been dismissed from service—you were there at the time, Sir.”

She put a slight emphasis on the last word, “Sir.” Those three shots in the courtroom—she could never forget. Had he not fired then, the outcome might have been better.

Walton, however, only smiled.

“That is the Imperial Army’s loss. But the Empire will not let talent like yours go to waste. If you are willing, I will guide you through the doors of another world!”

Unlike Irwin, Walton was blunt and direct, dropping this bombshell on Mulan’s heart.

Irwin, meanwhile, grew anxious. He had discovered this unpolished gem in Mulan, and now this mysterious Sir was poaching her right inside the sanctuary?

“Sir, Mr. Jonster is a devout believer of God. Surely the Divine would rather see him bathed in the Holy Light, and—”

“Clergyman, I am also a devout believer. I too am bathed in the Holy Light, as is the entire Dirga Empire. There is no contradiction. I understand your admiration for Mulan, but to the Grand Sanctuary, he is but a devout believer.”

Walton was blunt to the point of rudeness, leaving Irwin speechless. As much as Irwin believed that someone like Mulan would surely shine, he was but a local cleric in the southern district of Valentine, powerless to influence the wider affairs of the Grand Sanctuary.

Walton easily overpowered Irwin in presence; it was like a kindly adult speaking to a child.

“So, Mulan, will you come with me for a walk, or would you rather continue your prayers?”

There was no doubt. Mulan would not choose the latter. Even if it was her sleep troubles that plagued her, Walton might very well have a solution. If not, she could always return to the sanctuary. She could only murmur inwardly, “Forgive me, kind cleric.”

“I have finished my prayers for today, Irwin. I’ll visit you again.”

Irwin suppressed his urge to give Walton a thrashing, reminding himself he was a man of God and must remain patient. He forced a smile in reply.

“Very well. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Then, farewell!”

Walton clapped Mulan on the shoulder and led her out of the sanctuary.