The next day, when the group woke up, they discovered that Andoain—the man they called their Guide—was no longer in the Requiem Church. In his place was a single note left on the table.
In the letter, the Guide informed them that he had matters to attend to and wasn't sure if he would return within the next few days, urging them not to worry about his safety. Seeing this, the group breathed a sigh of relief. As long as the Guide had left a message, it proved he wasn't in immediate danger. As for the risk of him being captured? They had absolute confidence in his abilities; even if he couldn't outfight the Apostolic Knights, he could certainly outrun them.
"Hey, what kind of emergency would make the Guide leave so early without any rest?"
"Not sure. Maybe it has something to do with what happened back in Kazdel? I noticed his expression was a bit strange then."
The group recalled an incident in Kazdel not long ago. They had met a friend there who spoke privately with Andoain. To this day, they remembered the look on their Guide's face when he emerged—as if he had just heard something utterly unbelievable. But Andoain never shared the details; even when they asked him privately, he would only shake his head and say it was nothing.
"Alright, let's save the small talk for the road. We have work to do. The Sarkaz brothers stay behind; the rest of you, follow me."
To fulfill the Guide's objectives, they had to begin their preparations. Whether it was scouting the terrain or smuggling in explosives, they needed manpower. However, the Sarkaz companions were simply too conspicuous; having them along for this phase would be inconvenient.
With that, a group of them left the Requiem Church and blended into the streets of Laterano. This time, their clothing was normal enough that they drew no unwanted attention.
"So this is the Great Clock Tower you mentioned? It definitely looks like a relic of a bygone era."
On the other side of town, Jeanne and Lemuen stood before the tower the Pope had recommended. Looking at the weathered, aging walls of the structure, Jeanne couldn't help but sigh in wonder. Honestly, she hadn't seen many truly ancient buildings on her way here—even the Basilica lacked that sense of antiquity.
She wasn't sure if it was because the Basilica had been recently renovated, or if successive Popes simply blew parts of it up for fun in their spare time. As for why a thousand-year-old city looked so brand new, it likely had everything to do with these explosion-loving Sankta. They probably blew a place up and then restored it perfectly; for a millennium, the city's architecture had lived in a cycle of detonation and reconstruction.
"It can't be helped. They say this Clock Tower has been here longer than Laterano itself! That's why it's one of the few 'No-Explosion Zones' in the city," Lemuen explained. What she didn't tell Jeanne was that as a child, she had written eighteen consecutive applications to the Notarial Hall requesting permission to blow the tower up.
The result had been a stern rejection. Eventually, they even sent someone to her house to lecture her on "cultural relic preservation." However, when they saw she was just a kid, they took her to a nearby empty lot, let her blow things up to her heart's content, and then sent her home. To this day, Lemuen suspected the deeper reason that official brought her there was that he wanted to blow something up too; his cheers had been louder than hers.
The high tower stood in the center of a cluster of buildings. Despite its age and visible signs of weathering, it was unexpectedly sturdy. According to Lemuen, the tower received very little maintenance. Many Popes didn't even bother with it during their reigns, as there seemed to be no point.
The two began the climb. No one blocked their path; even the large door leading to the top was unlocked.
"You said this bell hasn't rung in nearly a thousand years? Do you think it's because ringing it requires some special technique?" Jeanne asked, her interest piqued by the silent legend.
In any other country, such a loss of knowledge would be normal, but it felt out of place in Laterano—a nation that didn't seem like the type to lose track of important information.
"You've got me there. This is a puzzle that generations of Popes and sages haven't been able to solve. Even the current Pope hopes to crack the mystery," Lemuen replied as they climbed. This was actually her first time reaching the top; she had usually given up halfway because of the height.
Truthfully, aside from the cleaning crews, few people were bored enough to climb this high just to look at a bell that wouldn't ring. It was a waste of time.
"Anyway, Laterano has never given up on trying to figure out why it won't ring. You know the result—otherwise, the Pope wouldn't have asked you to give it a try."
Jeanne nodded. She realized the Pope had mentioned this place specifically to see if she could produce a miracle. While she was skeptical of her own miracle-working abilities, the moment she stepped into the tower, she could clearly perceive a massive, dormant power. Though it was silent, the feeling it gave her was remarkably similar to her own "Revelation."
"By the way, when the bell in Laterano rings, it signifies the descent of a Revelation. But as for what kind of guidance it gives us, we can only wait for the Pope to announce it," Lemuen said. These were things she had learned as a child. Though no one knew how to make it ring, the manuscripts left by the First Saint still existed.
Climbing a tower while talking is an exhausting endeavor, even for the physically gifted. Despite their superhuman stamina, Lemuen felt her energy draining as she chatted with Jeanne.
Finally, they reached the summit. There hung an ancient bell, larger than a person, shimmering with a metallic luster. It certainly looked the part of a thousand-year-old relic. Jeanne reached out and gave it a firm pat; just as Lemuen said, it produced no sound at all.
But the moment she saw the bell, Jeanne's "Revelation" spoke to her. She knew exactly how to make it ring.
She would need to use her Noble Phantasm, Luminosité Eternelle ("God is Here With Me"). Under the activation of her treasure, she felt she could awaken this ancient object that had slept for a millennium.
"Well? Well? You look like you've discovered something! Can you actually make this thing ring?" Lemuen asked eagerly, noticing the shift in Jeanne's expression. She was dying to know what the sound would be like; not a soul had heard it since the days of the legendary First Saint.
"I did find something. But now isn't the right time to ring it. Wouldn't it be better to give everyone a surprise in a few days?"
In Jeanne's view, the festival was only two days away. Rather than letting it ring now, it would be much more impactful on the day of the celebration. After all, everything needs a sense of ritual! Letting the new year of Laterano begin with this bell would be the best possible news for the people.
"Fair enough. I really want to hear what it sounds like, though," Lemuen said, sounding a bit disappointed. Knowing her friend had the power to wake it but having to wait was a special kind of torture.
"Don't worry, you'll get your chance. It's just a short wait. Besides, hasn't it been silent for a thousand years already?"
Jeanne patted Lemuen's shoulder to comfort her. As they exited the Clock Tower, someone in the distance picked up a communication device.