The triad of heinous scoundrels followed the red-robed priest deeper into the palace. Passing through a cross-shaped corridor, Iger suddenly turned to look at a weathered plaque on the wall, so worn down it resembled a chopping board. Ashe glanced at it and immediately understood what had caught Iger's attention.

The inscription had nearly faded beyond recognition. Ashe was certain he didn't recognize the first two characters, which were likely written in the local dialect of the Myriad Continent. However, the last few words were in the universal True Spirit Language[1] and remained barely legible: Card & Tile Parlor[2].

Unless the Temple of Calamity Flame happened to be a sect of compulsive gamblers, there was no reason for a game room inside its palace.

That wasn't the only oddity. Ashe had already noticed plenty of strange details while soaking in the baths. The bathhouse itself was unquestionably magnificent. The Fish-Slaying Dragon water inlet and the murals depicting a paradise of dancing spirits perfectly matched the grandeur one would expect from a religious order.

Yet the towels the temple provided were nothing more than ordinary cotton cloth. Forget the Gospel Kingdom; even in Shattered Lake Prison, they would barely qualify as foot rags, let alone toilet paper. The fresh clothes prepared for them were equally plain. When Ashe first saw the red-robed priests dressed in such crude garments, he assumed it reflected the Calamity Flame faith's emphasis on austerity. Now, it seemed more likely that their light industry simply wasn't very developed.

Fortunately, Iger had spare clothes stored inside his spatial card. They were all his own, but since the three of them were roughly the same build, they could make do.

There were many other inconsistencies as well. The cracked ceilings, walls, and floors had all been patched with coarse...