Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 149: Star Stealer Sol

Nol pressed hard on his temples, trying to sort out the current situation.

First, Tahe is fully controlled by that victorious False God. It has obtained partial authority of the system… Well, no, it has eroded a part of the world’s power.

Second, this obviously ill-intentioned guy is looking everywhere for him, striving to kill him as soon as possible.

Wow, really great. A god who has manipulated the world for at least two hundred years is hunting him.

“Why hasn’t it found me yet?”

It’s been months, and the noise they’ve made along the way isn’t small. Not to mention anything else, the generals of the mortal world, the Temple, and the Church, have all noticed the existence of Paradise. For an ancient False God high above, this efficiency was a bit pitiful.

“The stealth power of your Lost Tower comes from the system. It’s absolutely safe. Teest is also absolutely safe by your side. It can’t see you.” Kando whispered, “In theory, you could hide in the Tower for a lifetime…”

“……”

Nol was silent for two seconds, pinching off the candle from the staff.

So that’s it. The three fallen old worlds became the Demon King’s compatriots, and the four moons watched them intently. He was cursed at first and was trying his best to just survive…

“Do you think the weak me, knowing this in advance, would hide in the Lost Tower for a lifetime?” he said.

“Yes, I admit. Besides, ‘wanting to survive’ is not something to be ashamed of.” Kando didn’t struggle, gently scraping Nol’s hand with two candle tears. “I know you have a mortal’s heart, and I don’t understand your character. I needed time… After all, you have the Lost Tower—enough for your compatriots to live well. Continuing to be managed by that victor, the world will not end…”

Nol understood.

He could simply give up going home and live with his neighbors in the Lost Tower, happily and peacefully until old age, indifferent to the possible storms and bloodshed outside—Tahe was a real world now. Whether there were gods in the world or not, the world was never short of tragedies, right?

Of course, he could also, for the sake of going home and seeking revenge, actively start a divine war, pulling that powerful False God hidden in the dark off its throne.

Looking at it this way, “giving up” indeed seemed like a tempting option. But…

“You don’t need to explain,” Nol said. “Thank you.”

Kando’s single eye widened slightly.

“Hey, it actually considers you a coward. If it were me, I’d definitely take a layer off its wax,” Teest said curiously.

“It obviously wants to deal with that victorious False God. You know, it could have used more despicable means to achieve its goal—like deliberately fabricating facts, creating hatred, tempting us to fight against God.” 

“But it just stated the facts at the right moment, with solid evidence, letting me choose. Even if I immediately hide back in the Lost Tower, it can’t do anything.”

Nol put the candle back on the staff. The candle’s single eye still harbored unexpected emotions.

“I thought you would be angrier,” it said nervously. “So your choice is…?”

“I don’t like the victor’s ‘story’, and I want to send everyone home,” Nol said, turning to Teest.

For the Mad Monk, this level of “world truth” might already be enough. The path he was about to choose would be full of thorns. He didn’t want to “domesticate” his lover, nor did he want to issue a command as a master.

So, now was the moment for Teest to open that gift.

Nol held his breath.

Teest stood a step away from him, as they always maintained that one step—a careful step… the step for saying goodbye.

‘What a mess,’ Nol thought. He had imagined countless times, but when it came to speaking, immense unease and anxiety instantly tore him apart. Compared to that, a headless corpse seemed ordinary.

“Have you decided on your ending?” he asked with difficulty mouthing the words.

Those golden eyes looked at him for a while. But Teest didn’t respond directly.

“How disappointing.” He glanced at Kando. “It seems the so-called ‘False Gods’ are just a bunch of animals, full of thoughts about seeking food, getting stronger, seizing territories.”

“Being toyed with by such things, what’s there to talk about ‘domesticating’? Just thinking about it makes one unhappy.”

Saying that, Teest flicked the candle flame. “Does it have a name you can call it by? You should know, messenger of the ‘loser’.”

Nol wasn’t surprised.

The system couldn’t parse Kando’s race, which meant Kando had signed a contract with a strong being—that being was also determined to see the victor dead. Unless Tahe was hiding a thousand False Gods, not many would meet these criteria at the same time.

The candle’s flame instantly dimmed. Kando, for the first time, averted its gaze, muttering a bunch of strange words like “they figured it out themselves” and “this doesn’t count as me leaking secrets”.

After a long time, it finally answered in a huff. “I don’t know its real name, but Headless calls it ‘Star Stealer Sol’.”

“Alright, I remember now.”

Teest clapped his hands, his tone as light as if he was making a toast.

“Since Star Stealer Sol is already hunting ‘us‘, not counter-hunting would be impolite—right, honey?”

He intentionally emphasized the word “us”, but in the end, the Mad Monk didn’t answer the desired ending.

Similarly, Nol didn’t answer this question either.

After fighting for so long, Nol showed a relaxed smile for the first time. In the dim cave, he grabbed Teest’s blood-stained hand, imprinting a long kiss on the palm.

He tasted blood and warmth.

This time, Kando didn’t make any provocative remarks. It patiently waited for Nol to finish kissing and was just about to speak again—

“After visiting the Dragon’s Lair, you lead the way,” Nol said.

Kando: “Uh… You’re kind of scary sometimes, you know?”

“Being sent here by the loser specifically to say these things, the purpose can only be ‘cooperation’.” Nol fiercely wiped his face. “Rather than ‘us’ fighting alone, I’d also like to understand the situation more.”

“Alright, that makes sense,” Kando muttered. “You can call Headless, Per…”

“‘Loser’ is quite fitting. It can’t even keep its head. I’m not interested in its name. Let’s leave it at that.” Teest indifferently interrupted the candle.

Then he leaned close to Nol and made a 180 degree turn in his tone. “Honey, let’s deal with that old goat quickly, and find a place to rest as soon as possible.”

“Uh…” Just then, Golden Sword Billy let out a sound like he was coming to his senses.

He slowly rose from the ground, dizzyingly supporting his head. Golden Sword’s handsome features were smeared with sticky black blood, and his complexion was as pale as a dead man.

“I remember now.”

His eyes closed tightly, and he shivered as he spoke. “The Eternal Pope’s face. I remember that face… I have seen that face. I really have seen that face…”

……

Alternate space of [Mercy Countdown].

“Kid, calm down. If you kill me here, all of us will truly be doomed together.”

Painter decisively raised his hands—though he was lying on the ground, with Knight Eugene’s knee pressing against his chest and the knight’s longsword against his throat, making this action somewhat difficult.

“Call me by my name.” Eugene’s tone was ice-cold.

“Alright, Little Eugene.” Painter flashed his teeth. “Let me go, okay? You know very well—you’re no match for me, not to mention we still have Mr. Fischer Reginald.”

The dog-headed knight let out a “woof”.

“…And the good knight, Saint Bernard,” Painter quickly added.

After a long silence, Eugene lowered his sword. He looked unhappily at the nun uniform, his knee still pressing against Painter. “Blasphemous guy. You’re even crazier than before.”

“To collude with the ‘Eye of the Storm’, I—”

“You’re just looking for an excuse to vent.” Painter relaxed his body. “Look, High Priest Fischer helped us kill the old Pope, and that’s a great achievement.”

Eugene sneered. “The Eternal Pope ruled for hundreds of years. It’s normal for the High Priests to be dissatisfied. In my view, you just want to support a new Pope with whom you have good relations. Godfrey Painter, you’ve fallen so low.”

“And yet you’re waiting for me to return. If you had completely lost faith in me, you wouldn’t talk so much nonsense.” Painter patted the knee pressing on his chest.

“Now you’re wondering, could all this be Painter’s plan? Pretending to defect, to be abandoned by everyone, as a disguise for undercover activities, ultimately to kill the Eternal Pope… That would be worthy of the name ‘Ladder of God’.”

Eugene fell silent, narrowing his eyes at Painter. He didn’t speak, but his face clearly read, “Is it really like that?”

“Zealots are so amusing.” Painter laughed. “Of course not! I’m not a masochist. Seriously, move your knee. I’m suffocating.”

Eugene’s breathing became rapid, anger faintly visible on his face. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then stood up. “So, do you have any excuses?”

Painter stood up and adjusted his ill-fitting nun uniform without any discomfort.

“None.” His tone was unexpectedly calm. “Regarding matters of God, no matter what I say, you won’t believe me—I’m not arrogant enough to think that a few words could destroy more than twenty years of teachings from the Malloy family.”

Eugene stared at him.

“Oh, right. Don’t think about killing Fischer. I’ve already protected him.” Painter waved his hand casually. “After leaving here, run as fast as you can. The dragons are on their way. Seeing that undead dragon, they’ll burn everything around them.”

Hearing this, Eugene was stunned.

Everything was so shocking that he momentarily forgot someone’s presence. Golden Sword Enbillick Alva was still outside! …As a merchant, Mr. Alva certainly didn’t lack the means to save his life. He would check on him later when leaving.

Besides this—

Eugene suddenly turned around. Magical chains shot out of his hands, wrapping around Painter’s neck. Painter was unfazed. He tugged at the dark red light chain around his neck, raising his eyebrows higher and higher. “Death Row Chains?”

[Death Row Chains], one of the advanced magics of the Investigation Knights, often used to bind extremely dangerous targets.

Its judgment was extremely strict. As long as the caster didn’t cancel the magic, once the chain between the two people was broken—no matter by what means—the target would immediately be cursed to death.

“You know this won’t work.” Painter chuckled. “You’re a smart kid. With such an oracle, you wouldn’t seek death for no reason. If I forcefully break free, you will definitely cancel the magic.”

“I know, so I changed the designated curse target.” Eugene said, “If you break the chains, I will die.”

Those dark green eyes stared at Painter unblinkingly, covered with a layer of mirth, like toxic mold.

“Mr. Painter, come on, prove your evil,” he said. “What are you hesitating for?”

Painter fell silent. He rubbed the light chain with a complicated expression, the dark red glow illuminating his skin.

He tacitly acknowledged its existence.

“…The Goddess’s judgment on you, was indeed, never wrong.” Eugene finally smiled again, gripping the end of the light chain tightly.

High Priest Fischer, loyal to Teest, was indifferent to the drama unfolding in front of him. He even looked as if he wanted to find some snacks to enjoy the show. The dog-headed knight tilted his head, unsure if this counted as an attack—the village chief had told them that such behavior was common in the human world.

After dealing with Painter, Eugene glanced at Fischer. Considering he couldn’t fight flexibly while dragging Painter, he ultimately gave up on killing the High Priest.

Then his gaze landed on Knight Saint Bernard.

“I will report the death of the Eternal Pope.” He suddenly said, “According to the traditions of the Temple of Life, facing such a matter, the Pope himself will verify my original memories with magic, eliminating all possibilities of falsehood.”

Knight Saint Bernard’s ears twitched, unsure of what the human knight was trying to say.

“That means, they will discover you, then uncover your origins. You’re not human. According to the Temple’s most common practice, you and your existence will be judged as supportive forces for the usurpation of the new Pope.” Eugene patiently explained.

Knight Saint Bernard froze, looking at Eugene in horror. This wasn’t good news. Their village was remote, and Shiva wouldn’t go out of its way to protect them. If-if the Temple’s humans came looking for trouble…

“So, go ask those two powerhouses for help.” Eugene didn’t specify his guess.

The warrior of the golden thread was the Mad Monk, and the other black nun… Eugene wasn’t sure, but that was almost certainly a powerhouse from Paradise. Drake, other masters, or the Master of Paradise himself?

None of that was important. What mattered was, the dog-headed beastmen were under the protection of Paradise.

“Interesting. Since they will check memories, aren’t you afraid they’ll see this part?” Fischer crossed his arms, leaning against the ruins within the alternate space.

Eugene: “I need you to attack me, to confuse these few minutes of memory with a memory confusion spell. It’s normal for me to be attacked while capturing Godfrey Painter.”

Fischer laughed. “Kid, do you not know the height of the sky? Do I look like a menu to you?”

Although he no longer followed the False God Anstis, his disdain for the Temple of Life hadn’t lessened by half.

“The two you are following specifically asked Painter to protect this knight. If you see them and their hometown in trouble and do nothing—” Eugene dragged out his words meaningfully.

Fischer immediately choked, clicking his tongue loudly. “You’re quite interesting too. The Temple rejects non-human races, yet here you are, cleaning up after them.”

“Human or non-human isn’t important. What’s important is Lady Tilia is kind-hearted. She wouldn’t want to see these innocent beings hurt.” Eugene immediately countered.

Painter looked from one to the other, eventually sighing helplessly. He took a few steps with the chain, petting the anxious-faced Knight Saint Bernard.

“If you believe in God too much, you will end up like that.” He made a funny face at Saint Bernard. “Don’t learn from them.”

Knight Saint Bernard: “……”

“But I have to admit, the kid is right. The Temple will definitely come looking for you guys. Get going after we leave here, and quickly find those two.”

Knight Saint Bernard drooped his ears, nodding vigorously. Then he suddenly thought of something. “Bu-but what if they don’t want to help? I followed them here by myself…”

“Don’t worry. Teesti might not care, but Noli will definitely help.” Painter smiled. “Trust me. You’ve done them a big favor.”

Then, he looked at Eugene and Fischer taunting each other. “I thought my oracle would end today—things are more interesting than I imagined. I get to live a few more days, which is great.”

“End?” Saint Bernard asked in confusion.

“Nothing.” Painter ignored the chain around his neck, stretching. “Ah, I’d rather die saving an innocent dog than for…”

He sarcastically curled the corners of his lip, swallowing the words he didn’t finish.

Soon, [Mercy Countdown] was nearing its end.

The moment they left the alternate space, Eugene dragged Painter towards Billy’s hiding place.

Fischer summoned a one-time spatial movement item previously obtained from the Church, grabbed the still-dazed Knight Saint Bernard, and activated it without hesitation.

However, just before the item was activated, a hand grabbed Saint Bernard’s fluffy tail. The magical flash disappeared, and there was one more person at the destination.

“Sorry about that.” Painter released Saint Bernard’s tail, apologizing repeatedly.

“Did you kill Eugene?” Fischer was somewhat surprised.

“Hehe.” Painter ruffled his slightly messy red hair. “If that kid wants to catch me, he’ll need to try harder for a few more years.”

Eugene ran to the original hiding spot. Billy was nowhere to be found—there were only countless gem shards on the ground. Fortunately, the short-distance teleportation circle prepared by Eugene was still there and hadn’t been activated.

He looked up at the hillside.

The undead dragon coiled up its body, lying quietly in the place of the original altar, its blue fire eyes dim, as if it had fallen into slumber. The Church’s altar was reduced to a fist-sized rubble, its original form no longer discernible.

The undead dragon showed no hostility towards them, and Billy’s presence was nowhere near.

“Let’s first…” Eugene tugged at the chain, turned his head, and froze for half a second.

His chain was tied around a mutilated cultist’s corpse. The corpse still had faint magical fluctuations; its disguise magic had only recently ended.

When did Painter make the switch?

Eugene had been watching his every move. As a mage, Painter couldn’t have hidden any small actions from him, a knight. Unless…

Unless the moment they entered the alternate space, that guy used a corpse to disguise as himself, hiding in the shadows.

Painter knew what he might do. That damn bastard had been prepared from the start!

Eugene gritted his teeth and canceled the spell, stepping forward decisively, disappearing into the teleportation circle alone.

Forget it. In any case, all truths would soon be revealed before the Goddess.

Carrying that oracle on his back, Eugene had a feeling they would meet again.

…Whether it was ‘Painter or those two peculiar individuals from Paradise.

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The author has something to say:

Actually, those who have read “Stray” can probably guess what race Loser is (lol)

Consider it a little Easter egg, but not having read it won’t affect your understanding XDDD

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Kinky Thoughts:

Hm… I didn’t have the slightest clue, but reading the JJ comments, it seems other people have guessed [spoilers], which seems correct.

I don’t want to say it since it will spoil a large portion of Stray for those who haven’t read it (I suggest you do).

Just a note: For those reading along, Nol’s weapon is now a staff, not wand. Previously Nian Zhong used (魔杖), which is wand, but now has switched to (法杖), which is staff. Given the description, staff fits better than wand. It’s basically a cane-sized-looking stick.

I’ll go back and make the changes accordingly… but given there’s over 100 chapters+ of it being wand… there could be some that are overlooked. Just keep this in mind.

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 148: The Winner Takes All

“Ah—!!!”

The moment the illusion was dispelled, Billy let out a scream. He covered his eyes, and the sound of protective magic cracking could be heard from several parts of his body. Golden Sword reacted quickly, immediately dropping to the ground and tightly closing his eyes.

Mortals couldn’t gaze upon it.

This represented the power of a False God or greater.

The body stood quietly in the center of the cave, its chest still faintly rising and falling. Instead of flesh and blood, the severed neck revealed swirling, dull matter. It appeared dead gray-black, like worms swirling in rotten brain matter.

Numerous fine, strange limbs extended from the severed area, gently floating, with dim and bright white lights at their tips, as if searching for something.

To say this was the body of a headless giant… would be less accurate than saying it was a mass of unsettling flesh dressed in human skin, forcibly disguised as a humanoid form.

A monster.

Not belonging to Tahe. A complete and utter monster.

Perhaps it was because only the body remained, but when Nol looked directly at it, he didn’t feel the discomfort he did when gazing at the Demon King or the moon. On the night in the novice village, they could only see its rough outline through the mist.

Now, Nol saw clearly that what was on its body wasn’t a gauze skirt, but layers upon layers of black runes that writhed ceaselessly.

He attempted to decipher the runes, but as soon as his fingertips neared the body, countless blue-black sparks exploded. His probing was ruthlessly blocked.

Whether it was the rune seals or the bizarre “creature” in front of them, they had no hint of the system’s aura.

Nol’s heart sank.

Facing the ancient Demon King from the old world, he felt this same sense of powerlessness—a foe full of unknowns, far surpassing ordinary beings; a dangerous foreign object on the Tahe continent.

Aside from improvising, it was difficult to prepare any effective strategies.

How many were there now?

A Demon King from a destroyed world. The inexplicable four moons in the sky. The old Pope with near False God level power. The strange headless body in the oracle cave…

Aside from Teest and himself, he had directly encountered four “False God and above” beings. The Demon King had passed, the Pope was dead, and what Nol couldn’t comprehend were only the four moons and the headless body in front of him.

He hoped the Eternal Son and the Goddess of Life were among them. Otherwise, what kind of world were they really facing?

Golden Sword Billy moaned in pain. Teest, on the other hand, raised his head to look at the bizarre headless body.

“Old bag, what is this thing?” he asked the Pope bluntly.

The Pope’s cloudy eyes didn’t move. “The statue of my God; His divine form embracing the world.”

It seemed the old Pope wasn’t aware of the secrets of this room. Right, the room’s illusion was meant to deceive the Pope, and he might have other bindings.

Teest curled his lips downward, deciding to ask something more practical. “Then where does your power come from?”

“My God favored my talent and bestowed me with blessings,” the old Pope murmured. “My god… Ahhhhhhhhh!!!”

He suddenly let out an indescribable weird scream, as if someone was choking his throat, or like a mechanical error in the audio. The sound wasn’t human, nor was it something any animal could produce, making one’s scalp tingle.

Teest was startled, and Nol, sensing the abnormal fluctuation, immediately cast a memory erasure spell.

With Teest’s question erased from memory, the old Pope immediately calmed down. He stood stiffly in his original position, as if nothing had happened—provided one ignored the foul-smelling black blood flowing from his nose and mouth.

“This guy’s memory was booby-trapped.” Nol retracted his hand, sweating coldly.

The old Pope’s memory trap was like a suicide pill hidden in a molar. Asking sensitive questions would trigger self-destruction, possibly dragging them down with him.

Teest stared at the old Pope warily. “Does the Eternal Church have this trick up its sleeve? This is the first I’ve seen of it.”

The principle wasn’t hard to understand, Nol thought bitterly.

A specific character involved in a specific conversation triggered a bad end. This was a common occurrence in games. But to manipulate someone in the real world—especially a powerful individual like the old Pope—the caster must be very powerful.

The magic fluctuation was sinisterly identical, likely the same entity behind the statue’s illusion.

The fact that someone specifically hid the old Pope’s memories and knowledge about “God”… Could it be the Eternal Son, Anstis, Himself?

“Let him ask for the oracle.” Nol clenched his teeth.

“How about we prepare a bit more?” Teest looked at the old Pope with unusual distrust.

After a full-fledged battle, both he and Nol were somewhat weakened and could hardly withstand another False God attack.

“Just asking for the oracle should be fine.” Nol bit his lip. Since they were here, they might as well see the whole thing through.

The old Pope’s body staggered to the front of the headless body, knelt down, and began chanting obscure spells. Despite Nol’s Player’s proficiency in languages, he couldn’t understand what was being chanted. However, in the latter part of the prayer, the old Pope finally used ancient common tongue.

The essence of the prayer was simpler than Nol expected.

The old Pope only made one request: he asked Anstis the Eternal Son to grant a new oracle, to direct and replenish the strength of His faithful followers.

As soon as the old Pope finished speaking, the tendrils on the neck of the body froze in mid-air.

The slowly flowing black runes seemed awakened, pulling like puppet strings, causing the headless body to twitch as if being twisted in all directions by a brute force.

Numerous twisted golden characters flashed around the body, forming various strange patterns. Centered on the body, they danced wildly like a swarm of bees, spinning more and more frantically.

Finally, the golden lights gathered above the severed neck, forming a walnut-sized golden sphere.

Black runes moved along the skin of the body, surging crazily towards the sphere, wrapping it tightly. After a long half-minute wait, the runes slowly receded—the participating golden light sphere was forcibly split into two by the runes.

Most of it was wrapped by the runes, placed in front of the headless body’s neck and chest, with only a few strands of golden light visible through the cracks.

The remaining smaller part was lifted into the air and exploded above the headless body. Golden light flakes fell like snowflakes, disappearing into the dim air.

The dead old Pope smiled; his head buried even lower among the golden light flakes… It was unknown what the world looked like in his eyes at that moment.

“I have received the oracle. Would you like me to write down the content?” A few minutes later, the old Pope stood up.

“That’s it?” Teest’s voice was slightly higher, obviously disappointed by the truth.

The two gods didn’t appear. The entire process was like machinery in operation: posing a question, calculating the answer, providing a solution.

Beside him, Nol also frowned.

According to Painter’s statement, the Chosen Ones were originally masterless. The light orb was akin to an “oracle talent pool”, with the runes receiving instructions to manually split it, distributing it between two churches.

Mostly, the Chosen Ones were allocated to the Goddess of Life, with a smaller portion to the Eternal Son, somewhat like dividing a cake.

At face value, the simplest and most straightforward possibility—

The Goddess of Life and the Eternal Son jointly control this “headless False God”, using its power to obtain a list of Tahe’s strongest beings. Then, each god took a portion for their own church to collect.

That was, to suppress this barely alive, headless False God, they compromised with each other and jointly guarded the headless body?

No, something was wrong. It was too complicated; the relationships between these “gods” were too entangled. Nol’s magical power wasn’t depleted, but his mental energy was nearing its limit.

[Not long ago, there were two very strong beings fighting each other, and then one became weaker…]

[I haven’t seen them. They aren’t my compatriots. I don’t like them…]

The ancient Demon King’s words suddenly surfaced in his mind.

Right, that was it.

Nol grabbed Teest’s arm, his heart pounding, feeling a nauseating tightness in his chest.

[There was indeed a battle between the two gods.] Nol’s thoughts were somewhat sluggish.

[The old Demon King did say that. What about it?]

[If we go by the narratives in the sacred texts of both sides, in the battle of the two gods, the Goddess of Life gravely wounded the Eternal Son… They had no need to set aside their differences and collaborate to suppress this dying False God.]

[After all, this thing wasn’t even qualified to participate in the divine war, right?]

Teest turned his head sharply. True to his reputation as his Mad Monk, his reaction was as fast as ever.

[Assuming the ‘battle of the two gods really happened, and the Demon King didn’t participate’ as a premise.]

Nol let his thoughts flow, voicing his most instinctive speculation. [I guess, the parties in the battle of the two gods weren’t necessarily the Goddess of Life and the Eternal Son.]

[There were once two powerful gods in conflict. One gravely wounded the other. The victor dominated the loser, taking the loser’s powers for itself. What we see in front of us might just be that unlucky loser.] Teest’s smile faded. [I guess that’s what you’re implying.]

Nol hummed in agreement inwardly.

There could be many speculations, but compared to those complex, absurd tangles, he preferred the simplest assumption.

The inexplicable four moons in the sky was the victor.

The strange, headless body was the loser.

For some reason, the victor didn’t wish to personally eliminate the Demon King. Thus, it utilized the loser’s abilities to find the top talents from the land of Tahe. Then, to some extent, it controlled the system, making Players its agents.

This could explain everything most simply—Nol had always found it odd that there was no design related to oracles in his system. It turned out that this matter had nothing to do with the system from the beginning.

However, following this line of thought led to two startling conclusions, one good and one bad.

[The good news is that the victor isn’t confident in defeating the Demon King. It’s not that strong.]

Teest seemed to be reading his thoughts. [But it’s hard to use as a reference. After all, the old Demon King didn’t give his all when fighting us.]

He even sounded somewhat wronged when mentioning this.

[The bad news…] Nol took over the conversation.

[The Goddess of Life and the Eternal Son might very well be the same god.]

…That meant all of Tahe’s native powerhouses were under its command. The dirty and tiring tasks on the ground were either done by believers and Players or by the hapless headless loser in front of them.

They knew nothing about the god hidden behind the scenes—not its form and powers, not even its name.

The pitch-dark cave was eerily silent, except for Billy’s intermittent groans.

[…Well, that does explain why ‘the gods didn’t care about Eugene’s oracle being tampered with’. It’s just passing from one hand to the other.] Finally, Teest spoke up. [Let me think. It seems the evil powerhouses were sent to the Eternal, and the good ones to the Temple. The religious style also makes it easy to unify.]

[The reason for Painter’s situation… ‘Prophecy’ is not its own power. It can’t fully interpret it, right?]

The so-called “oracles” were merely “fate predictions” for others’ lives. The victor tossing them onto a red and black roulette was just a part of their fate.

…That made sense.

But if so, the references to “God” and “False God” in the prophecies…

“This world has not yet seen the birth of a true god.” A peculiar voice suddenly spoke up. “I presume you’re troubled by this.”

At some point, Kando, who had been sitting on the staff, opened its eyes. It looked at the tightly bound headless body with a particularly complex gaze—so complex that Nol couldn’t interpret it at first.

“There has not yet been the birth of a true god? What do you mean?” Teest raised his eyebrows, leaning in close to Kando, blocking its view.

Faced with the innocent looking “Teesti”, the candle’s gaze was purely disdainful.

“Didn’t I say it before? The system is absolute. The current ‘God’ has to bow before it… How could a true god be so useless!”

Kando muttered.

“From that guy who has been controlling Tahe all along, to you two useless ones, to the idiot without a head, and the dead goat brain… False Gods—all of them.”

“You’ve been hiding this from me all this time?” Nol gritted his teeth. “You think I’d be scared by this?”

Kando looked at Nol, its disdain gradually fading, replaced again by that complex emotion.

“Not just that. It has known about your existence all along. Every second you’ve stepped on this land, it has been looking for you.”

It sighed. “That guy might use the goat brain and the headless one, might domesticate your cunning knight… but it will absolutely, absolutely not let you go, Nol.”

Teest and Nol were both stunned.

Hearing the word “domesticate”, Teest’s face tensed for a moment. Nol stared dead straight at the candle’s single eye, waiting for its next words.

“Nol, you’ve always forgotten to ask me a very important question. You’re always curious about the gods, but never about the mystery right in front of you—what exactly is the ‘system’.”

“Now I can tell you.”

What is the system?

At moments, Nol indeed had doubts. But this world was so mysterious, so he followed the truth of the world, focusing his investigation on “gods” and the Demon King that “shouldn’t exist”.

To him, the system was too familiar.

The system had always existed—the system was supposed to exist. It became like a drop of dew sliding off a lotus leaf, a minor link to other questions.

“I can control the system to some extent, and the so-called ‘God’ seems to be able to do so as well,” Nol said softly. “Is it because of this that it won’t let me go?”

“Haha!” Kando chuckled dryly. “What do you think they are fighting for in the battle between the two gods and the Demon King’s subjugation?”

“In ‘God’ terms, the ‘system’ you speak of is the supreme authority of this world.”

---

The author has something to say:

There are still many mysteries, gradually wrapping up. Fighting monsters all along the way—

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 147: Familiar Faces

Crack.

The old Pope couldn’t dodge in time. Knight Saint Bernard bit fiercely into his arm, his sharp teeth sinking deep into flesh and blood.

A few steps away, the moment he received the command, Fischer immediately released Painter from his bonds. As the chains fell to the ground, a wand was raised. Before Eugene, Fischer, and Knight Saint Bernard could react, they were pulled into the alternate space of the [Mercy Countdown].

No sooner had the four disappeared than the undead dragon Telistam’s breath followed right behind them. Teest, taking advantage of the golden threads, leaped high into the air, while the old Pope, trapped in place, barely managed to block. Other cultists by the altar who just touched the blue dragon’s breath screamed as they turned into flying ash.

The undead dragon spread its wings, flew to mid-air, and let out a roar that shook the valley. Even as mighty as a dragon, its spirit was eroded by over two hundred years of death, leaving behind only the most powerful obsession and the most bone-deep hatred.

Hatred for the Eternal Church.

There were twenty-five seconds left until the formation was activated.

The old Pope’s body burst out with a thick and strong aura, and he raised his head in anger.

Countless magic mixed with black light bombarded Nol on the dragon’s head, emitting a weird aura far beyond normal magic. Nol raised his staff, and blue fireballs knocked them down one by one. The magic collided in mid-air, making a creepy vacuum explosion sound.

Nol’s eyebrows twitched.

Pope Gregory Gilmore really had the power of a False God. Could this also be the masterpiece of the Eternal Son? …No matter. Once he became Teest’s toy, they could ask him thoroughly.

“Monster who desecrates death, you have disturbed the Eternity granted by my God!” the old Pope cursed in a hissing voice.

There were eighteen seconds left until the formation was activated.

“What are you talking about?” A frivolous voice sounded behind him. “How elegant my honey is! …Come, see what real desecration is.”

Another wave of brutally cold aura spread out, and the old Pope instinctively turned around, his eyes widening slightly behind the black veil.

He saw hell.

Blood, dead flesh, and corpses gathered on their own, forming a black-red swamp. They devoured the bouncing pieces of flesh and the wailing cultists, becoming ever more expansive and deep.

Guided by the golden threads, the swamp surged wildly. It writhed madly, producing sticky bubbles that burst into a rich scent of blood and decay. Pale skeletons danced within, as if still alive.

What a lively scene.

However, the old Pope had never felt such pure death before—in comparison, even undead monsters could be considered full of life. Everything in the world disappeared, leaving only endless shadows and nothingness.

Like “destruction” itself.

In the middle of the desolate land of darkness, only the young “nun” stood.

This so-called Chosen One, who would bring “endless destruction and chaos”, stood clean in the midst of filth. The Mad Monk opened his arms to the old Pope, his golden hair scattered. The golden threads between his fingers were dyed gold-red by blood, and his torn black robe fluttered in the wind.

His face was slightly flushed, with only pure excitement and joy on it.

“Thank you.” He bowed slightly, his tone sweet, with a smile. “I’ve learned a little new trick.”

Shadows howled in.

Blood and flesh covered the land, and the warm body temperature became extremely cold due to the aura of destruction. The old Pope couldn’t help but glance down at the bite marks of the dog-headed beastman on his arm.

Could it be that his oracle…

In an instant, the swamp submerged the old Pope’s legs. It didn’t immediately devour him but firmly wrapped him in place. Meanwhile, the undead dragon circled nearby on the hillside, its breath indiscriminately burning all the corpses that hadn’t been devoured—whether the death was real or feigned, in the end, all turned to ashes.

All mechanisms, all defenses, disappeared in this mad destruction.

For a moment, it was as if the past had returned—when the Church suddenly attacked the unguarded White Dragon Telistam, it also launched a swift attack in a very short time.

Finally, the giant protective barrier that enveloped the area also showed fine cracks of light, shattering into pieces.

Under the blue sky, among the light particles, the Undead Dragon Telistam raised its head, emitting a sad and high-pitched scream. The dragon’s might, along with the aura of death, burst forth, spreading in waves in all directions, announcing a downfall that was over two hundred years late.

The Dragon’s Lair wasn’t far from here, and the dragons would soon know and come to this place.

Nol stood steadily on Telistam’s skull.

Between the dragon horns, the black nun, bathed in blood, had her cloak fluttering non-stop behind her. Her cheeks, stained with the blood of the sacrifice, looked down at the old Pope with a pair of blue eyes, as if looking at a dying cockroach.

The old Pope’s mind went blank for a second.

How many years ago was it the last time he felt despair?

Stronger magic required time to prepare, and all targets that could bear the cost of death around him had disappeared… In just a few minutes, he was completely cornered by these two people.

Impossible.

It shouldn’t end like this, not like this.

His God had clearly told him, the power he obtained allowed him to suppress all creatures in the world… He had never heard of someone with “godly” power having so many.

It was too absurd. The Mad Monk wasn’t even twenty*. How could he possibly do this?

*Clarity: This is referring to the years the Mad Monk has been in existence (not Teest’s actual age), and the Pope doesn’t know Teest is the Mad Monk.

And that weird mage who turned the dragon into an undead…

There were seven seconds left until the formation was activated.

Now, he had only one choice.

My God…?

The old Pope inserted his palm into his chest with a backhand motion. In the ominous magical glow, he held his still-beating heart in his palm, trying to call upon his God.

Only his God could solve such chaos. The old Pope closed his eyes, waiting for God’s gaze to fall on him.

But he waited for nothing.

“With me here, He cannot see.”

Teest once again silently circled behind him, the fine golden threads wrapping around the beating heart.

“Goodbye.”

With a muffled sound, the still-beating heart was twisted into pieces by the golden threads, blood splattering. At the same time, Nol’s magic hit the old Pope, his eyes behind the black veil dissipating.

It’s over.

Three, two, one…

In the last second before the sacrificial array was activated, Nol grabbed Teest, Teest grabbed the old Pope, and the two jumped into the center of the formation. Flesh burned, and the white light quickly faded. After the light dispersed, nothing was left on the magic circle.

……

[It turns out to be teleportation magic.]

In the darkness, Teest climbed up from the ground.

[When I was modifying the magic circle just now, I noticed its magical properties.] Nol gasped on the ground for a while. [Its setting is ‘to receive a large amount of pure human flesh and blood, and to teleport the target on the magic circle to a specific location, up to two intelligent beings’…]

[Undead monsters don’t count as beings, so there’s no problem.] He casually pointed at the old Pope and himself.

The designer of the magic circle had calculated everything but didn’t expect that rare and immobile undead monsters would run around.

[I see.] Teest extended his hand to Nol, his voice still carrying a hint of laughter. [You actually transformed the white dragon on the spot. What a wonderful method.]

Nol chuckled bitterly.

There were only twenty seconds left, and Teest had to personally kill the old Pope…

Nol had never burned his brain cells this fast, not even during his craziest overtime work—

Clearing the field violently in a short time, while making the old Pope obediently fight Teest, only the threat of a dragon could achieve this. Otherwise, if the old Pope chose to turn and fight him, the situation might become uncontrollable.

There was also that troublesome death-substitute magic.

The positions of the previous substitutes were always on the edges, so it was hard to say if it was a random effect. The old Pope would likely choose the target himself. Both the undead dragon and Nol himself were undead, logically unable to bear the cost of death.

The only one in danger was Teest, so at the moment Teest killed the old Pope, Nol hit him with a memory spell, temporarily making him forget Teest’s existence.

All these countermeasures were squeezed out of his brain in a few minutes.

Fortunately, everything went smoothly.

Next, the dragons would arrive in about two hours, while Painter and the others would leave within half an hour after [Mercy Countdown]. Before leaving, Nol gave the undead dragon the command to “stop killing”. Seeing the undead dragon, Painter would probably realize what happened and hopefully escape quickly.

The old Pope stood dumbly beside Teest, his shattered heart dangling outside his chest, with no breathing in his chest.

Nol weakly grabbed Teest’s hand, feeling completely drained, wishing he could collapse here and sleep for a long time. The problem was, this place really wasn’t suitable for peaceful sleep—

There was nothing but darkness around. Nol had dark vision, but the visibility was only about a meter, and that was limited to the human body. Everywhere was pure darkness—not even outer space was this suffocating.

They felt the ground beneath their feet, but in this darkness, taking another step, Nol wasn’t sure if they would step into emptiness.

Luckily, they dealt with the old Pope. Next, they could just let this old guy lead the way.

Nol: “Next, we… Ahhhhhh!

A cold hand grabbed Nol’s clothes from behind. The Great Demon King was caught off guard, issuing a series of embarrassing screams.

Teest: “……”

Teest: “Pfft!”

He casually pulled Nol behind him. The “Betrayer” spun in his palm, its tip pointing at that hand.

The hand moved closer, and the body behind it also emerged from the darkness—the owner of the hand raised both his hands and had a stiff smile on his face. “Good evening, sirs.”

Teest was surprised. An unexpected person was standing in front of him.

Enbillick Alva.

“Don’t kill me.” Golden Sword Billy’s face turned pale. “I was just… That was an undead dragon! I was afraid it would kill me too, so, cough cough…”

He rummaged through his pockets, pulling out a handful of shiny gem shards. Rich magic still flowed between the shards.

“This is called ‘The Convict’s Good Luck’. Just crush it, and it will teleport me to the nearest person who can most likely protect me. If you don’t believe me, feel free to verify!”

“Just take me out with you, and the Alva Merchant Company will definitely offer a satisfactory price. I guarantee…”

Nol: “……” Truly a great merchant from the Alva Merchant Company. This guy really had all sorts of weird things.

“How could the renowned ‘Golden Sword’ be here?” Teest decisively changed back to a female voice, raising her eyebrows.

“Eugene and that dog-headed knight were sent by me.” Billy still kept his hands raised. “I’ve always wanted to find the altar of the Eternal Church. Mr. Eugene was in a hurry to come this way, so I was just doing a favor. You see…”

Nol sighed and pressed Teest’s arm. “Let it go.”

In a way, Billy bringing Eugene and Knight Saint Bernard helped them a lot. If it weren’t for the two knights’ interference, facing the flawless Pope, he and Teest really wouldn’t have caught many flaws.

From the rescue on the road, to the succubus incident, to a dinner after traveling back in time…

Golden Sword Billy also had several encounters with them. Thinking of Billy’s two cute children, Nol didn’t dare apply the memory spell too heavily.

Anyway, Billy couldn’t escape. A confidentiality contract, memory modification, or something else—they could decide later… Maybe this person could be of help.

Teest shrugged and sheathed the sword. Billy immediately breathed a sigh of relief, his eyes stealthily glancing at the zombie-like old Pope.

Teest clapped his hands. “Old bag, lead the way.”

The old Pope uttered a vague “Yes” and started walking in the darkness.

Nol and Teest, one in front and one behind, sandwiched the stiff-walking Billy—actually, it would be more secure to knock him out and carry him, but this place was too weird. Nol preferred they keep their quickest reaction speed.

A great merchant indeed knew his place. The previous battles, the current state of the Pope, the identities of the two “nuns”, he didn’t ask. Seeing that neither of them spoke, he instead cleared his throat and started a light conversation.

“Do you want to take off his veil?” Billy tried to speak in a casual tone. “No one knows what the old Pope looks like. I’ll give a thousand gold wheels. May I have a look?”

Nol: [Wow, for a thousand gold wheels…]

Teest: [A thousand gold wheels to see a dead old man…]

Even if Teest and Nol weren’t short on money, they were still tempted. Indeed, now that Billy mentioned it, Nol was also a bit curious.

“This divine emblem is indeed annoying.” Teest snapped his fingers, and the old Pope himself raised his hand and took off the black veil on his face.

[Nothing special,] Nol thought.

The old Pope’s eyes were caramel-colored, with rectangular pupils like a sheep’s. He had high cheekbones and a good bone structure. It was evident that he was handsome when he was young.

Apart from that, there was nothing special—no peculiar tattoos, no mysterious brands, nothing at all. Just by appearance, Pope Gilmore was just a decent-looking old man, not at all connected to a cult.

[To be honest, I thought he would look more hideous.]

Teest remained silent on the surface, but chatted with Nol in their minds. [Like dark blue bags under his eyes, caterpillar eyebrows, a hooked nose, and even blisters on his nose…]

[Right, that image suits better.] Nol affirmed, a concept image of the character was already forming in his mind. [Plus a deathly pale skin tone, a long philtrum…]

After happily chatting, they both realized something was off.

Billy was too quiet.

Teest cleared his throat. “It seems this isn’t a face worth a thousand gold wheels.”

“No, no! I just felt this face looked familiar, sir,” Billy hurriedly said. “But I definitely couldn’t have seen him… Allow me to think for a bit longer, sir.”

[Making a mystery out of it.] Teest scoffed internally. [We won’t spare his life over such a trivial matter.]

[…Still, it’s better not to silence him.] Nol wiped his face.

[Sorry, habit.]

[……]

In absolute darkness, the Pope led them around before finally stopping. He raised his hand, pausing in a certain part of the darkness.

“My emergency messenger is waiting inside. He is blind, but his other senses are exceptionally sharp, so please keep quiet and be careful,” the old Pope said in a flat tone.

Centered around the palm of his hand, circles of strange runes lit up. They outlined a door of light.

Within the outline of the light door, the darkness receded, and light shone through. Beyond the door was a domed stone chamber of about a hundred square meters, built of dark gray stones. The walls and floor were as damp as a death row cell, gloomy and dim.

In the center of the chamber stood a huge statue of the Eternal Son—

A fat, faceless infant, clutching a rough and uneven planet. The surface of the planet was covered with a network of fine blood vessels, which converged at the end of the infant’s umbilical cord, connecting the planet and the infant tightly.

Beneath the statue, pale candles of varying heights, accumulated from candle tears, burned. They were the only source of light in this place. The candle flames didn’t flicker, and despite the candles burning, the wax didn’t seem to diminish at all.

Nol couldn’t help but frown at the discomforting aspect.

And the atmosphere was very subtle—

It was a kind of discordance difficult to describe in words, similar to the slight differences between a highly detailed game rendering and the real world. Very similar, but still not the same. The cold and heat here felt somewhat void, the air had a monotonous scent, like… some kind of unfinished product.

In a corner of the room, the emergency messenger of the Eternal Church curled up into a ball. His eyes were nothing but burnt-out pits, and he clutched a dirty spatial bag, looking like a dried-up corpse. Hearing the noise, he slightly lifted his head.

“My Lord—” He moved his lips, drawing a perfect circle on his chest.

Before he could finish, Teest casually knocked him out with the emblem of Life.

“Do what you need to do,” Teest instructed, adjusting the front of his nun’s habit.

“Don’t do anything.” Nol spoke almost at the same time.

The messenger’s voice came from the corner, eerily clear without any echo. The dissonance made him feel nauseated, akin to the “uncanny valley” effect. Something was very wrong with this place, definitely wrong.

The two exchanged glances, and Billy fell silent as if he had turned into a cicada in winter.

[What’s the matter, honey? Do you want to come in person?] Teest tilted his head innocently.

[The atmosphere here is wrong,] Nol said, his blue eyes lighting up. He activated [Creator] and forcibly checked every detail of the place. […Magic outside the system. The fluctuations are well hidden. The aura is like a degraded ‘Creator’… but it doesn’t create real objects, only illusions.]

The terrain lines detected by [Creator] trembled incessantly, occasionally flashing afterimages. Especially the statue in the center of the room—its shape changed and flickered wildly, like a game model stuck in a glitch.

The caster was very powerful. If not for his possession of the [Creator] skill, he might have been deceived by everything in front of him.

[Got it, a god-level illusion.] Teest quickly understood. [Can you break it?]

[That’s what I plan to do.] Nol nodded.

He had carefully sensed it. There were no other traps here. Removing the illusion, in theory, shouldn’t affect the reception of the oracle.

Under Billy’s puzzled gaze, Nol raised both hands. Layers of magic circles lit up from his palms, and in a few heartbeats, blue magic circles covered the space.

The large and small magic circles slowly rotated. The surrounding air seemed to be pulled into a blender, gradually distorting and shattering. The collapse of the small world in front of them emitted a chilling tearing sound, as if skin was being forcefully ripped off a living person.

Behind the darkness was deeper darkness. The stone chamber disappeared, turning into an even darker cavern.

Beneath their feet, on the walls, and up to the ceiling. The uneven stones were inscribed with strange runes in black liquid. The runes glowed with a black-red luminescence, intertwining with each other, stretching out from the walls, web-like, binding the object in the center of the cavern.

And in the middle of the cavern…

“That thing” was about five meters tall.

Its arms spread out like wings, suspended in mid-air by bizarre runes. Its waist, legs, and ankles were wrapped in dense runes.

Its silhouette resembled a slender girl without a head, wearing a gauze dress.

They had seen it before.

A long time ago, on a dark night. It had, in front of their eyes, erased a novice village from the world.

---

Kinky Thoughts:

For those who forgot, this was all the way in arc 1 (Ch7-10).

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 146: Revenge

Behind a boulder not far from the altar, Eugene’s face was so gloomy that it seemed like it could wring out water. Beside him, Billy watched with great interest. “Wow, that guy really dares to wear anything.”

Not long ago, their group galloped to the vicinity of the Claw Scar Mountains and wandered around aimlessly like headless flies. Just when the humans were at their wits’ end, Knight Saint Bernard sniffed the air. “It stinks! A very bad scent of blood and flesh.”

What followed made Eugene feel incredibly complicated—they followed Knight Saint Bernard and indeed encountered exceptionally strong protective and concealment magic.

Once concealment magic was exposed, it was practically non-existent. The real challenge was the protective magic, but fortunately, the Investigation Knights had conducted in-depth research on the spells of the Eternal Church—

According to the standard procedure of the Investigation Knights, Eugene needed to spend time deciphering part of the magic circuit, create a small opening with a counter-curse, and thus sneak in silently. Just as he was about to start dispelling the curse, Billy hummed seriously and took out a fist-sized magic gem from his backpack.

The gem burned with a brilliant platinum glow inside—clearly, it was no ordinary item. Eugene estimated that it was worth about ten years of his salary, enough to support a normal family in Grape Collar for two generations.

The next moment, Billy threw the gem at the protective magic shield. The gem exploded on the shield, scattering light and corroding a doorway-sized hole. The edges of the hole wavered, emitting a soft white light.

“It’s called ‘Caster’s Blind Spot’. Don’t worry. The people inside won’t notice.”

Billy clapped his hands and then took out a slightly smaller gem, crushing it. A halo circled the three of them, erasing their presence and aura on the spot.

“This is ‘A Glimpse in a Dream’. It erases our magical fluctuations and aura—the effect only lasts for twelve hours. Mr. Eugene, I’m afraid we need to act quickly.”

Without looking back, Billy dove into the hole.

Eugene: “……”

Watching Billy spend money like water, he thought he had become numb to it. Indeed, as Golden Sword of the Alva Merchant Company, their expenditures along the way, conservatively estimated, amounted to forty thousand gold wheels.

“It stinks!” Knight Saint Bernard covered his nose with a paw, his eyes becoming watery. “I’ve never smelled such disgusting meat—even rotten deer musk smell better than this.”

His tail hung low as he followed closely behind Golden Sword Billy.

Eugene gripped his long sword tightly, entering the protective shield last. He didn’t smell anything special. Perhaps only dog-headed beastmen could detect it, making it a loophole in the protective magic.

Everything went smoothly… until this moment.

Just after Eugene hid behind the rock, he witnessed Mr. Painter, dressed in a nun’s attire, interacting with the Eternal Pope—amid the swamp-like flesh, surrounded by the strange flock of goats, the Eternal Pope held Sister Teesti with both hands while speaking with Painter.

They were too far away for Eugene to hear the conversation. He could only be sure of one thing—Painter had tricked him again.

If “Sister Holly” was Painter in disguise… then Noli and Teesti, even Fischer, couldn’t possibly be real Evergreen Nuns.

Eugene knew that even if Painter had defected from the Temple of Life, he would never involve innocents. And regarding their identities, Eugene had a terrifying guess.

“Are you okay? You look terrible.” Golden Sword Billy timely inquired. “Now that I know where the altar is, the situation doesn’t look right. If you want to leave—”

“I’ll prepare a short-distance teleportation device.” Eugene interrupted Billy. “Proceed as usual with the rescue.”

Billy raised an eyebrow. “You know who that is.”

“Punishing traitors is the Temple’s task. We haven’t become so pathetic as to let the Eternal Church act on our behalf,” Eugene answered flatly. “Painter carries the Goddess’s oracle. As long as he’s alive, there’s a possibility for repentance and allegiance.”

“Your courage is commendable, but considering the attire, that’s the legendary Eternal Pope over there, right?” Billy whispered, “How about we leave it to Painter to solve and wait for the Pope to leave—whether the Pope continues the sacrifice or leaves, we can safely retreat.”

He perfectly avoided the topic of “Painter’s fate”.

“If I remember correctly, you once received quite a favor from Godfrey Painter,” Eugene sneered.

Billy’s mouth twitched twice. “Of course, I remember Mr. Painter’s kindness! It’s just my level, uh… I don’t want to stand by and watch him die, but this isn’t a fight I can influence. I have a wife and kids at home.”

After saying that, he glanced at Eugene. “If I remember correctly, the Investigation Knights detest evil and wouldn’t risk their lives to save a sinner.”

“I’m not saving a sinner. The Goddess once chose Godfrey Painter. His oracle… He should fulfill greater value than dying here.”

Eugene turned his gaze back to the battlefield. His fingers gripped the hilt of his sword.

“From now on, all expenses used for the fight will be covered by the Fifth Brigade of the Investigation Knights. If anything goes wrong, I won’t implicate you.”

“Ah, alright… Wait?! What’s that?”

Something round and rolling tumbled down the slope—a small, worn sheepskin ball.

While the two men talked, Knight Saint Bernard hid nearby. He wrinkled his nose at the Pope, growling unhappily in his throat, but couldn’t suppress the shivering of his body.

Knight Saint Bernard’s small ball had slowly shaken out of its pocket. The moment it gained freedom, the little sheepskin ball rolled down the slabs, bouncing off rocks, heading towards the center of the battlefield.

Knight Saint Bernard was startled. He apologetically glanced at the two humans, and then revealed himself, dashing down the hill on all fours.

‘This was to divert their attention,’ Eugene thought.

As knights, he didn’t need the protection of the weaker—blessed by the Goddess, her knights should wield their swords for the weak.

Taking advantage of Billy’s magic device still in effect, Eugene leaped out from behind the rock, sneaking through the shadows. He moved quietly in everyone’s blind spot, his eyes fixed on Painter and Teest’s direction.

……

In front of the altar.

“’His existence brings glory to God, and his disappearance will fulfill divinity…’ What a sad oracle.” The old Pope still smiled.

“Right? I don’t really like it either.” Painter spread his hands. “It doesn’t suit me at all.”

The old Pope ignored Painter’s playful words. “The oracle is not bad. It’s useful. When the time is right, you will become a glorious step for my God.”

“Ah, I guess the Temple of Life thought the same.” Painter smiled bitterly.

He stood there honestly, looking ready to be captured.

“Fischer, control Painter. Continue the sacrifice.” The old Pope commanded the remaining followers.

Most of the Eternalists had died, and the missing guards at the altar were now replaced by the strange black goats.

“Yes.” High Priest Fischer bowed his head, his gaze flickering towards Teest. Teest suspected he was waiting for a command—not yet, he thought.

Without a response, Fischer could only raise his sleeve. Black and red chains shot out from his sleeve, instantly wrapping around Painter. The chains were so heavy that Painter couldn’t stand, kneeling on one knee.

A dozen steps away, the dog-headed beastman’s sheepskin ball rolled quickly. Every time it was about to stop, it would be kicked away by jumping chunks of meat. The brownish-yellow ball gradually turned deep red from the blood and flesh.

The old Pope personally held Teest, stepping towards the altar.

‘Not good,’ Teest thought. At such a time, the old thing was still cautious—Painter was a mage, known thoroughly by the Church, and was left for Fischer to capture. But for himself, this guy insisted on personally securing him, clearly not trusting High Priest Fischer to completely restrain him.

It seemed that having an oracle that sounded too destructive wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

If Teest wasn’t mistaken, this old bag was probably going to be harsh on him—when facing an unknown and powerful target, the strategy was to cripple them until they were completely immobile, then take them back to the prison for treatment. Teest was taught this a thousand times while in the Eternal Church and witnessed such tragedies over a hundred times.

Being captured with such an oracle, he would definitely receive top-level imprisonment treatment. Whether he could get his limbs back before he was absolutely obedient was questionable.

Teest instinctively looked towards Nol’s direction… How miraculous. It was a critical moment of fate, yet he felt much calmer than he had imagined.

The two stopped in front of the stacked offerings, with the old pope still firmly grasping Teest, beginning to chant strange incantations.

The upper and lower magic circles were lit up again, and the air vibrated continuously, becoming dense and ominous. The nearby chunks of flesh wriggled more crazily, like caterpillars thrown alive onto a hot iron plate.

The sheepskin ball was fiercely hit by the crazed chunks of flesh. Being an inanimate object without life or breath, it bounced all the way to the Pope’s feet.

The Pope calmly ignored it.

Teest, however, looked down at it. The crudely stitched leather ball was soaked with fresh blood, the dark red blood shimmering at the seams like a bizarre apple.

Blood was part of a corpse, and if he could control the creatures he killed… What about controlling a part of them?

He wasn’t Nol so he didn’t understand the system’s logic for skill determination. Just looking at the system’s skill description, it was very likely not possible—the prerequisite for Dominion was killing, and one couldn’t kill blood.

No, that wasn’t right. One should say “under normal circumstances”, one couldn’t kill blood.

…It seems like he really found a loophole to exploit.

The sacrificial magic circle emitted a bright light.

In the blinding brilliance, Teest retracted his aura, silently throwin [King of Eternal Sleep] at the blood-soaked ball.

‘Come on.’ Teest focused on the blood-soaked ball.

Come on, since you were once part of a living being, let me bestow upon you the absolute concept of “death”… Let me dominate you.

At the same time, Knight Saint Bernard slipped on the flesh-covered ground. The ground was slick with sticky viscera, and the dog-headed knight couldn’t stop sliding. He slid down the muddy slope, heading straight for the bizarre flock of goats.

Knight Saint Bernard had never seen such strange creatures. His animal instincts were screaming, and his fur stood on end. In a panic, he instinctively used his most common innate skill—

[Shepherding: Control a flock of up to 200 sheep.

※Effective on all breeds of sheep.]

The system explicitly defined it. Facing the divinely gifted skill of the Eternal Son, the outcome was obvious—

In the shocked gaze of the Eternalists, the strange flock obediently parted. The dog-headed knight tumbled and scrambled towards the altar, towards the Pope holding Teest.

Knight Saint Bernard was tossed about, not thinking about the enemy’s strength or the battlefield situation. When he reached the altar, he had only one simple thought.

This old man has captured a guest from Sheepskin Ball Village!

He leaped up, biting at the Pope’s arm with hostility.

A weak and laughable creature.

The Eternal Pope remained unmoved, continuing the sacrificial chant—the sacrifice was about to be completed. He wouldn’t stop for such a lowly creature, making his God wait.

In a brief instant, four things nearly happened simultaneously.

The moment Knight Saint Bernard attacked, the Eternal Pope casually stepped back half a step, just enough to avoid the bite. But in doing so, he stepped on something—wet, slightly hard, a small leather ball soaked in the scent of blood.

It wasn’t there before.

The Eternal Pope lost his balance for a moment. In that second, he chose not to interrupt the ceremony but to persist and finish the last of the prayers.

Instantly, the offerings on the altar turned to mush, disappearing like melting snow. In the explosive white light, the old Pope raised his hand, setting up a defense in the direction of the strongest hostility.

There was a clang as Eugene’s attack hit the shield.

The sacrifice was partially successful. The Eternal Pope smiled, just waiting another thirty seconds for the ancient altar to be fully activated, and he could go to the land of oracles.

From this moment on, he need not focus on the sacrifice. In this short half-minute before departure, he would personally deal with these blasphemers.

In a sense, the old Pope wasn’t wrong. Among all the “people” present, Eugene’s hostility was indeed the strongest.

The problem was, a “God” could hide his killing intent.

Taking advantage of the moment the old Pope raised his hand in defense, Teest managed to break free. With a twist of his body, golden threads quietly wound around the limbs of the Eternal Pope. At the same time, the altar shook incessantly. Accompanied by thunderous roars, something was returning to its place—

Above the altar, two large clusters of blue flames ignited. They burned so fiercely that they even pierced through the surrounding dazzling white light. Chains broke, and stone sculptures collapsed. Far from diminishing, the shaking of the altar became even more exaggerated. Accompanied by a bone-chilling murderous intent, a terrifying aura spread out. Without a doubt, it was the unique bloodline pressure of a dragon.

After two hundred years, the undead dragon, Telistam, awoke.

“Painter, [Mercy Countdown]. Eugene, Fischer, Saint Bernard.”

Nol stood up from the chaos on the altar platform, his tone frighteningly calm. [Mercy Countdown] transported the designated target and oneself to an alternate space. Painter had used it as an hourly waiting room before, and now it was just right.

“…Telistam, seek your revenge.”

---

The author has something to say:

Nol: Everyone’s dead. I wonder to whom you’ll pass the cost to (.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 145: Accident

The altar was even more magnificent than Nol had imagined.

Carved from part of a hillside, the Dragon Bone Altar was complex and solemn. Ribs and leg bones were firmly interlocked, with gaps filled with polished bone fragments and dragon scales, forming indestructible steps and platforms.

Under the restraint of heavy chains, a pair of bone wings tightly embraced the altar. The dragon’s head was upright with its mouth wide open. Within the empty eye sockets, two large ruby cores slowly rotated, emitting powerful magic. They supported the nearby protective and concealment magic, securely hiding this place.

From a distance, the skeleton blended seamlessly with the gray-white stones, creating a terrifying harmony.

Knowing the origin of the skeleton, Nol felt no admiration, only disgust.

The free White Dragon Telistam shouldn’t have met such an end.

The walls of the cart filled with offerings fell down, turning into “square wooden bowls”. They were lifted by magic and floated towards the center of the altar.

Beneath the altar, a complex pale magic circle slowly formed. Above the altar, a sinister red magic circle was ready to unleash, its killing intent painfully sharp to the skin.

Under Fischer’s leadership, the priests surrounded the altar, with several layers of Immortal Knight elites on the outside. Curses, resistance circles, illusions, multiple protections… thousands of layers of magical shields tightly sealed the altar.

‘This old pope is frighteningly cautious,’ Nol thought. To break through the protection from the outside and stop the ceremony in a short time, only he or Teest, at full power—and that was assuming the Pope himself didn’t intervene—could manage it.

Despite the already strong defenses here, Nol lay on the cart of offerings, looking towards the flickering circuits in the magic circle.

The dragon eye gems shone brightly, crimson as blood. The already powerful grand concealment magic was further strengthened. Any magic fluctuations that touched its inner walls vanished instantly, like snowflakes meeting a hot furnace.

Within the protection, winds howled and magic collided. The ominous aura was as thick as paste. Outside, the grass pointed quietly towards the sky, not a single breeze escaped.

…If two hundred years ago, the Eternal Church also had such strong defenses, it was no wonder the dragons didn’t discover the fall of the White Dragon Telistam. Dragons lived so long. Two hundred years for them was like two years for humans.

Perhaps even today, Subelbot was still waiting for that rebellious young White Dragon to return home.

Nol took a deep breath.

Now, this powerful magic that isolated heaven and earth would be an excellent support for him and Teest.

A low and strange chanting came from around the altar. The two magic circles grew brighter.

Clearly, the Eternal Church wasn’t just for show; their sacrifice was simple and brutal—the upper red circle smashed the offerings into a pulp, while the lower white circle prepared to offer this batch of “pure flesh”.

Under the glaring light, Nol slowly clenched and then relaxed his fingers. [Teest.]

Nol’s palm gently covered Teest’s hand.

[I remember.] Teest squeezed his fingers back, his thoughts exceptionally clear amidst the eerie chanting. [I’ll create some chaos, and you’ll take the chance to modify the altar’s “sacrifice judgment”, right?]

[Be careful.]

[I have “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”. You don’t have to worry.]

[Be careful, Teest.] Nol stubbornly repeated. [Please prioritize your safety. If things go south, abandon this investigation.]

Teest’s hand moved in his palm.

[You don’t have to say it. I would do that anyway.] Teest scratched his palm. [Honey, I’m off.]

The next second, the warmth under Nol’s hand vanished. Teest concealed his presence and lightly jumped off the cart. With “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” fully activated along with False God level strength, his departure was lighter than drying dew.

At the same time, in the most peripheral position of the encirclement.

An Eternal Priest was focused on chanting when suddenly, a pair of slender hands climbed onto his neck, cold as a python’s wrap.

“Hello,” A breathy voice said in his ear. “Help me out, will you?”

That was the last thing he heard in this world. The next second, Teest silently snapped his neck. But his magic fluctuated only for a moment before calming down again.

Deep in the priest’s pupils, blue fire slowly burned. Teest quietly hid in his shadow with his lips curving up in pleasure.

He looked towards the cart where Nol was, silently counting down.

Five, four, three, two… one.

The blood-red circle blazed brightly, but at the moment it activated, the servant of his, a necromancer, made a ludicrous “mistake”—the angle of the magic circle shifted, and the fatal strike skewed, hitting the opposite side diagonally. It grazed High Priest Fischer before exploding.

The chanting abruptly ceased.

In less than ten seconds, a third of the Eternal Church’s unbreakable protective circle was gone. Under the magic array, whether it was Eternal Priests or Immortal Knights, all were turned into bloody mush.

High Priest Fischer hadn’t even “had the chance” to react when those masses of flesh and blood surged and took shape, lunging at the nearest living person.

A new web of slaughter formed above the crowd. Teest leaped down from a golden thread, looking like a feather falling in the snow.

In the chaos below, he spread his arms, fingertips twinkling with golden light. Brilliant golden fire ignited, and on the blood-soaked land, he twirled lightly—enemies alive one second, dead captives the next.

Around his dance-like steps, screams and roars were unending. The soil, soaked with blood, became slick and slimy. Teest stepped over this mire, freely reaping in the chaos.

Noticing the turmoil at the center, the Immortal Knights and Eternal Priests, who were originally responsible for the surroundings, hurried over. More death, more puppets… Well, it was unnatural for Fischer to be the only one alive. He had to deliberately spare a few useless ones…

Throughout, Teest’s gaze never left the Pope at the top of the altar steps.

Teest naturally wasn’t exerting his full strength. The powers of the [King of Eternal Sleep] and the False God were still in his grasp—the battlefield was in chaos for a full sixty seconds, yet the old Pope remained unmoved. This wasn’t a good sign.

Above the altar, the old Pope looked down at the melee with indifference, as if those dying weren’t his subordinates but insignificant bugs. Even after seeing High Priest Fischer injured, his gaze remained undisturbed.

“An interesting idea,” the old Pope said after watching the tragedy for two minutes, raising his hand.

The temperature nearby dropped rapidly, and a thin mist formed over the blood-covered ground. Shadows emerged from the mist, resembling black goats. On closer inspection, their edges were twisted beyond recognition, making their facial features impossible to count. Just a few more seconds of observation could make one’s head spin.

The flock of goats wandered leisurely among the fighting soldiers.

Whether it was a living person gasping or Teest’s undead monster army, touching a black goat would cause them to disintegrate into fist-sized lumps of flesh, twitching and squirming in all directions.

No matter how Teest commanded, the lumps of flesh remained unmoved—clearly, they were neither alive nor undead.

The surviving Eternalists closed their eyes and fled, making way for the surging black flock of goats. The brownish-red lumps of flesh jumped chaotically, emitting faint, indistinct screams.

On the silent altar, the sacrifices slept deeply.

Taking advantage of the time Teest had bought, Nol finally cracked the magic array below. Using the [Creator] authority, he changed the requirement to activate the array from “fresh and pure human flesh” to “fresh flesh”.

Next…

Nol raised his hand towards the back of the old Pope and specifically cast [Breath of a False God]. An anomaly appeared on the Pope’s back. He paused his spellcasting for a moment to look sideways.

And in that instant, Teest rushed forward, getting behind the old Pope.

With several thrusts, the “Betrayer” fluidly pierced through the eye sockets, slit the throat, and plunged deeply into the Pope’s heart. To ensure the complete extermination of this ancient scourge, the “Betrayer’s” blades released a frenzy of the Demon King’s corruption, corroding the Pope’s flesh and blood.

This was the ideal plan that Teest and Nol had concocted. Not even the old Pope, let alone False God Nol, could survive such a combination attack without facing a life-threatening crisis.

Next, he just needed to use his profession’s skill to turn the old Pope into a puppet…

The legend that had ruled the Eternal Church for hundreds of years, the highest target, was now bleeding in his hands.

Teest’s heart raced, the hunt making his blood surge uncontrollably. His hair stood on end, and his skin emitted waves of heat.

One second, two seconds.

Despite the influx of corruption, the sense of domination unique to the dead didn’t appear. Teest’s brow furrowed, only to see the old Pope’s arms twist in an anatomically impossible manner to grab his arms.

With a snap, the old thing’s head turned 180 degrees, its black veil fluttering lightly.

“Got you, little rat.” His tone was flat, as if squeezed from a dead throat.

Teest tensed up. In his exhilarated brain, countless thoughts sparked.

The Pope exuded an aura akin to that of a False God—weaker than Nol and himself, but of a very similar nature. This guy was much stronger than Teest and Nol had anticipated.

Something’s wrong, terribly wrong. How could the Eternal Church, with such a formidable Pope, have become the weaker party?

Without going into details, even if this Pope were to go alone to the Temple of Life, Painter wouldn’t stand a chance against him.

Like now—his hands gripped like iron clamps. With the dreadful strength of a Doom Knight, he still couldn’t break free.

Things were going south.

Teest no longer intended to hold back. He instinctively wanted to create distance. However, as soon as the thought of casting a spell arose, it silently fell through—

Unbeknownst to him, a creepy and terrifying flock of black goats had encircled Teest. They stared at him intently with countless eyes, solidly blocking any escape.

At the altar, the moment Teest was captured, Nol almost shot up into the air. But having been a non-combatant for so many years, Nol’s reaction was half a beat slow—a hand firmly grasped his shoulder, pressing him down.

“That geezer doesn’t plan to kill him just yet. Calm down.” Painter squeezed next to him, whispering almost silently, “If he wanted to kill, he would have acted sooner, not setting up this complicated situation. He’s curious, and Mr. Mad Monk also knows that he’s curious.”

“No more forced probing.” Nol brushed off Painter’s hand. “I can’t let Teest bear all the risk while I stand by and watch.”

“No, no, you misunderstand.” Painter smiled. “Though my strength is negligible, I don’t want you to bear all the risks either.”

“The ‘unknown’ is the hardest to deal with. You two are my trump cards. If something happens to you, we’re all done for—let me do the probing. You find the best moment to act.”

Without waiting for Nol’s response, Painter stood up from the carriage—literally stood up, transforming back into the tall, skinny Pope of 1.9 meters. Dressed in Sister Holly’s clothes, he looked utterly ridiculous.

Seeing his former adversary in this state, the Eternal Pope hesitated for half a second.

“Seeing is believing. I’ve been curious about you for a long time.” Painter casually adjusted the nun’s attire, his hair returning to its normal red. “It’s a pity that young man couldn’t finish you off.”

“Godfrey Painter.” The old Pope’s attention was indeed diverted from Teest in part.

“Whether it’s your flock or your undead physique, the ‘flavor’ is off. It doesn’t look like normal magic.” Painter kicked away a screaming piece of flesh as if it were a common stone. “My guess, is this a special gift from Lord Anstis?”

“Sharp.” The old Pope was sparing with words. “But you’re too noisy, Painter.”

‘It seems like two divinely granted abilities outside the system,’ Nol thought.

The flock went without saying, and the undead physique… even Players had to pay a price for death—a strict rule of the system. The Eternal Son couldn’t defy the system, so—

Nol expanded his senses, indeed discovering several bizarre corpses in the distance—brains oozing from shattered eye sockets, severed carotid arteries, hearts pierced, and viscera emitting the scent of the Demon King’s corruption.

The three corpses were scattered in different corners of the battlefield, completely mixed in with the shattered flesh and viscera on the ground, firmly obscured by bouncing chunks of meat. If not for Nol’s acute sensitivity to the scent of death, they would have gone unnoticed for a while.

…A skill that pays the death penalty on behalf of others?

The situation became more complicated. Dozens of Eternalists were still alive, including Fischer.

No one knew the “selection rules” for the death penalty. With an aura almost like a False God, and backed by the Eternal Son, picking a scapegoat randomly would put everyone at risk.

A strategy had to be devised quickly. Nol kept his body low, watching the battlefield intently.

On the other side, just as the geezer’s attention was about to return to Teest, Painter sighed loudly, “That’s your precious Chosen One. Are you sure this is the right way to treat him?”

The old Pope reacted quickly. “The Mad Monk.”

Hearing it was about the Chosen One, he eased his grip on Teest’s hand slightly. Teest blinked, pretending to be overwhelmed, staying still.

Painter clapped loudly. “Correct! This gentleman previously visited Paradise for fun. I specially invited him to see you—none of us want to follow the weaker party, so we arranged a little entertainment. Don’t be upset.”

“Desecrating the sacrifice, is this your show of submission?” the old Pope said slowly, his tone full of sarcasm.

“No, no, no. Think of it this way—how important the sacrifice must be, if just the two of us could disrupt it, we obviously need to reconsider our submission.”

Painter wagged his finger. There wasn’t a drop of sweat on his forehead. “Mr. Mad Monk and I have never been ones to play by the rules, right?”

With that, the former Pope cleared his throat in a serious manner. “This way, not only can we demonstrate our strength to you, but we also help you weed out those lacking in ability. You know, this is called a win-win situation.”

“Well, I don’t accept ‘win-win’,” the old Pope replied indifferently. “I don’t have time to play with children. Get to the point, Painter.”

For a moment, Painter’s gaze became complicated. “My purpose has been achieved.”

The old Pope watched him quietly. The flock around him slowly turned, with more eyes facing Painter. Painter decisively looked away, not wanting to see those eerie black goats.

“Because the Mad Monk is the ‘Chosen One of the Eternal Son’, I can completely understand your softened attitude—but you know I’m the ‘Chosen One of the Goddess of Life’, and you didn’t immediately take my life, continuing our conversation… haha.”

The two young ones may not know, but Painter was well aware.

This Pope had controlled the Eternal Church for many years, with extremely limited curiosity and little interest in most worldly affairs.

In other words, the other party just wanted to know the motive, which was enough to spare Teest’s life.

The fact that the old Pope didn’t immediately kill him, an “enemy Chosen One”, meant…

“You also know, ‘Chosen Ones’ are inherently ownerless.”

Painter paused for two seconds. Seeing the old Pope didn’t respond, he continued methodically, “Because of that ridiculous oracle, even though I defected from the Temple, there are still people in the Temple who believe I will ‘return from my lost ways’. In fact, I have no loyalty left for Tilia.”

“Looking at it, Lord Anstis is quite righteous. At least He didn’t hide it from you.”

“Oracle.” The Eternal Pope finally spoke up.

“You mean…”

“My God didn’t summon you to Eternity. Your oracle must not be suitable here. Now, present your oracle. Prove your value to me,” the Eternal Pope said.

His hands still firmly grasped Teest.

“I could tell you, but how will you verify its authenticity?”

Painter crossed his arms, revealing a small faceless god idol from the torn nun’s attire.

“This is Lord Anstis’s altar.” A slight smile finally appeared on the rigid face of the Eternal Pope. “God will watch. God will witness. Lies will have their price.”

“Alright, since you’ve put it that way. Actually, the core part of my oracle is very short, indeed not as, um, special as others.”

Painter sighed deeply.

“‘His existence brings glory to God, and his disappearance will fulfill divinity’… Just that.”

---

The author has something to say:

The great reveal of Painter’s oracle!

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 144: A Story

The tip of Painter’s quill rustled across the thick paper.

The procession had been teleported again to an unknown location, leaving only pitch darkness inside the carriage. Fortunately, Nol and Teest both had dark vision. As for Painter, it was hard to say if he could see clearly, but they knew his handwriting remained neat and beautiful.

[I’ll tell you about the legend of the Claw Scar Mountains’ altar.] He wrote neatly.

Nol and Teest exchanged a glance, seeing a clear curiosity in each other’s eyes. The former Pope really knew how to pick a story. Nol was worried about not having enough background information. Teest, who apparently hadn’t come across this level of intelligence, earnestly lay on Nol, his golden eyes shining brightly.

[You both should know where the Claw Scar Mountains are. They are located north of the Dragon Mountains, with particularly complex terrain. The Eternal Church’s altar is set among these mountains, a secret that isn’t a secret. Unfortunately, the Temple has searched persistently for hundreds of years yet still found nothing.]

[We reasonably suspect that, like the Temple, the Church also controls several ancient fixed teleportation arrays. After several jumps, perhaps only God knows the final location.]

[Since no one knows its location, how can there be legends? Nol wrote enthusiastically.

[This is an internal legend of the Eternal Church. As soon as one reaches the upper echelons, one always gets hold of some secrets. The content of Eugene’s oracle, for instance, is also only known to the Temple’s high-level officials.]

Painter was writing this horror story in a relaxed and pleasant manner—

[I once investigated the Eternal Church alone, although it was for the old Pope’s oracle, the incidental gains weren’t few. This story is one of them.]

Teest: [What about the old Pope’s oracle?]

[Don’t be too greedy, Miss Teesti.] Painter replied calmly. [I can only say, you two need not worry. In my view, our preparations are quite adequate.]

Teest rolled his eyes.

Painter continued on his own. [The Dragon’s Lair is located in the Dragon Mountains, so places like the Claw Scar Mountains and Shattered Scale Canyon are very common for dragons. The Eternal Church’s altar is special—it is made from the complete skeleton of a giant dragon, belonging to the White Dragon, Telistam.]

[It is said that before this, the Eternal Church’s altars were always temporarily constructed using a large amount of materials. It wasn’t until the Dragon Bone Altar came into existence that their place of sacrifice was settled.]

Nol was stunned.

The White Dragon Telistam was supposed to be a distant relative of the leader of the dragon clan, Subelbot. Unlike the stubborn clan leader, Telistam was independent, wandering alone for years.

The dragon territory was a late-game map, and they hadn’t yet managed to design related quests on it. In the original setting, Players could encounter Telistam anywhere in the world.

Did it die?

The thought of that proud White Dragon left Nol feeling empty for a moment.

[More than two hundred years ago, Telistam was accidentally injured and stayed in the Claw Scar Mountains. It rested on a high platform, blocking the water source and sunlight.]

[Near its resting place, there was an ancient village. Its presence prevented livestock from drinking, and its breath made it difficult for plants to survive. The village’s normal life was completely destroyed, but they were unwilling to leave their homes. So, they began to look for humans who could negotiate with the dragon, hoping to persuade Telistam to move.]

[The first volunteer was a strong warrior. He fled without seeing the White Dragon, scared away by its mere presence. The second was a clever trickster who aimed to deceive the dragon away, but he never returned.]

‘Dragons don’t tolerate lies from humans,’ Nol thought. The moment the trickster’s lie was spoken, he would have been incinerated by dragon fire.

[The third volunteer was a frail poet.]

Painter’s quill paused. [He made a deal with the dragon.]

[Wow, that dragon has a good temper~] Teest somehow managed to write with a sarcastic curve in his handwriting.

[The poet set up a tent next to the dragon and started sharing his experiences. Telistam, who only flew in the sky, had never paid attention to the joys and sorrows of humans. It liked the poet, appreciating his wisdom and stories, especially his gem-like eyes.]

Painter continued. [The poet said, his greatest dream in life was to be accompanied by the breath of a dragon after death. For this, he was willing to give up the rest of his life in exchange for a piece of Telistam’s scale and a tooth.]

Nol was silent. The human’s request sounded absurd, but the essence of the deal wasn’t bad. Dragon’s teeth and scales could regenerate… It was just painful to forcibly remove them.

Humans were too insignificant and too greedy. The proud white dragon wouldn’t sincerely agree to this deal. It would surely find a loophole to exploit.

Teest’s expression changed slightly, likely thinking something similar.

[As you might guess, the poet’s contract was full of loopholes—he asked for the white dragon’s scale and tooth without specifying ‘in what state’. If one day the dragon got tired of him, swallowing him whole would still mean ‘being accompanied by these items after death’.]

[The dragon gladly accepted his request, and they made an unbreakable pact. The poet was still young, thinking he could enjoy a few more years—telling stories from spring to summer, singing from autumn to winter. Thinking back, Telistam really liked the poet’s stories.]

[That winter, the poet went down the mountain to replenish supplies and never returned. The villagers said he had been seriously ill and didn’t survive the harsh winter.]

[According to the poet’s will, before the dragon discovered this, they cremated his body and scattered the ashes on the most beautiful hillside of the Claw Scar Mountains.]

He knew the dragon’s pride as well as his own fate.

‘This wasn’t a malicious constraint,’ Nol thought. There was more than one loophole. This deal was more like a gentle inquiry.

Beautiful Telistam, you can give up a small part of your body to complete the transaction.

But, you can also choose—

[That day, the White Dragon Telistam spread its wings and flew to that hillside. It changed its resting platform. The place chosen by the poet was indeed more beautiful.] Painter wrote.

—You can also choose to visit me here from time to time.

[After all, the transaction didn’t specify ‘the scale and tooth must accompany non-stop’.] Painter wrote. [In this way, the poet used the remaining year of his life to successfully make it leave the village area. A decade later, the White Dragon fully recovered and still occasionally flies to this place, resting on the beautiful hillside.]

[What a touching story.] Teest wrote silently.

[Perhaps the poet’s wish was sincere, and saving the village was just incidental.] Nol wrote. [But now, no one knows the truth.]

What was the poet thinking when he was dying?

What does the White Dragon think when it stops at that beautiful hillside?

[Yes, what we’ve heard is just surface rumors, and such matters cannot be casually speculated by outsiders. But…] Painter paused meaningfully, his gaze sweeping over Teest.

[It flew towards him.]

[Not just a scale or a tooth, but it flew towards him with its whole being.]

Teest stopped writing.

He paused for a long time that Nol thought something was wrong. Just as he was considering whether to poke Teest, Teest finally reacted.

[Why would the Eternal Church record such fairy-tale-like things?]

Compared to his earlier sarcasm, his handwriting was now deflated, like hair that had been licked by Ben.

[Oh.]

Painter’s writing pressure increased. [The Church investigated the village and found this story, setting up a trap on that hillside specifically for the White Dragon Telistam—after years of meticulous planning and deploying all elites, they killed Telistam.]

[After killing the White Dragon, they built the altar on the spot with its bones. The village that spread the story was also wiped out, and the location of the altar became a mystery.]

‘…!’

Nol crushed the quill in his hand.

He had felt something was off. The White Dragon Telistam was very young. It couldn’t have just died two hundred years ago so easily. Adding a hateful ending to a beautiful story, was this a special hobby of the Eternal Son?

[It could have escaped.] Teest wrote dryly.

Discovering the human ambush, it could have just dropped the scale and tooth and run away. This wouldn’t have violated the agreement with the poet; as smart as a dragon, it would have thought of this.

But it chose to stay, fighting humans on that small hillside.

[Yes, it could have escaped.] Painter’s handwriting showed some ink shortage. [Maybe for the pride of dragons, or maybe, who knows?]

[Only the story remains.]

Teest bit the tip of the quill, his gaze sweeping over the angry Nol, no longer writing.

……

Eugene hurried back to his room—the dog-headed knight had already run off to find someone. He had earnestly packed all the lamb bones and meat pies, leaving the room neat and tidy, except for an increase in dog hair on the floor.

Oh, and there was a sheepskin ball full of bite marks in the corner. It seemed Knight Saint Bernard had forgotten something.

Knight Eugene casually picked up the ball. “Marion, go to Shiva to communicate with headquarters. Remember, communicate personally. Don’t go through the group.”

“Yes! Captain, you—”

“I’m going to the Claw Scar Mountains. Sister Holly must have left traces. There might be a chance to find the altar.”

Eugene bit a bandage, tightening the wound on his arm—a “little gift” of bloodshed left by the priest when he escaped the Immortal Church.

“You’re going alone…?!”

“I have my own judgment,” Eugene said. “By the Goddess above, I will not recklessly waste my life—if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Yes, Captain.” Knight Marion saluted with a pale face.

After arranging Marion’s task, Eugene applied a mix of herbs and fat. The scent was subtle, but enough to cover the sweet smell of fresh blood.

He needed to find the fastest means of transportation. If the Church also used a teleportation array, he would have to travel light and non-stop to catch up. Any further delay, and he might not reach the Claw Scar Mountains before the Oracle Sacrifice was completed.

Eugene wrapped himself tightly and rushed out into the wind and snow. He hadn’t gone ten steps when something furry bumped into him.

“My ball!” Knight Saint Bernard exclaimed joyfully. “Did you pick up my ball for me? Oh, thank you! Can I lick your face?”

“…No, thank you.” Eugene handed the little leather ball back to Knight Saint Bernard.

“Hey, why are you back?” Saint Bernard secured the ball, then realized something was off. “Weren’t you supposed to leave with the hospitable folks?”

“I got separated,” Eugene answered succinctly.

Knight Saint Bernard’s furry face turned serious. “It’s really dangerous then. By the way, I booked a very fast vehicle. Why don’t we go together!”

“No, no need.”

Eugene had no intention of dragging Knight Saint Bernard into this. Taking a step back, in this human-dominated big city, a simple dog-headed knight probably couldn’t book a decent vehicle—to go to the Claw Scar Mountains, one must cross three countries. How could anyone accept such a business?

He had to spend a lot of money to buy the best swift-feather horses.

“Are you sure you won’t come?” Knight Saint Bernard made a pitiful whimpering sound. “The carriage is really good, and they even said it’s on the way, giving me a discount.”

Eugene: “……”

Eugene took a deep breath. “Five minutes, explain the situation. I suspect you’ve been scammed.”

“That’s not necessarily true.” A cheerful voice came from a distance.

Golden Sword Enbillick Alva was also dressed as a commoner. He approached Eugene with a hearty laugh, making an exaggerated bow.

“What a wonderful coincidence, young knight.” Billy placed his hat over his chest, his smile growing more diligent.

“Mr. Alva.” Eugene’s expression was unwavering.

The last time he saw this guy was during the “Paradise Server-wide Announcement” incident.

“Call me Enbillick.” Enbillick’s smile remained unchanged. “It’s been a while. Have you greeted the Archbishop for me?”

“I’ve been busy with missions lately. I haven’t had the chance to meet him yet.”

Eugene wasn’t very fond of this merchant. He nodded coldly. “We’ll talk when we’re both free, Enbillick.”

“Two of the best swift-feather horses, you, the good Knight Saint Bernard, and me, plus a bit of magic gear, we’ll be in the Claw Scar Mountains in two days.”

Eugene stopped. “Two days?”

To achieve this absurd speed, it would cost more than “a bit” of magic gear.

“Yes, two days.” Enbillick mysteriously shook his finger. “Carriage fare is a special price only for today—just one gold wheel.”

Eugene rubbed his temples with a headache. “What exactly are you trying to do?”

In the conflict between the Temple of Life and the Eternal Church, the Alva Merchant Group had always been neutral. Eugene was well aware that these people also did business with the Eternal Church. Strictly speaking, Golden Sword had no motivation to help him.

“It seems you’re quite confident about this tracking.” Enbillick said, “To be honest, I’m personally very interested in that dragon bone altar—dragons care deeply about their kin’s remains, as all dragon remains are in the Dragon Tomb. That’s an exposed, complete dragon skeleton, I think. I want to see it—the first one in Tahe’s history!”

“A complete dragon bone altar.” Eugene frowned. Even he didn’t know the situation of the Eternal Church’s altar.

“Don’t mind it. A little bird told me.” Billy winked humorously. “Such a good thing, hard to find even by the dragons. Now that we have a clue, I won’t miss it.”

“The Eternal Church won’t let you off.”

Billy: “We dare to offend the Eternal Church, just as we dare to trouble the Temple of Life. Besides, we have you—people only need to know about the young hero who found the altar. Why bother about the hero’s coachman?”

This meant completely shifting the blame to the Temple.

Once the Temple of Life took down the altar, the Alva Merchant Group would definitely arrive first to negotiate, helping to “handle” the dragon bones before the dragons attack. How much profit was involved, Eugene didn’t bother to calculate—he only knew, if this deal went through, the profit would be enough for Golden Sword to live lavishly for a hundred lifetimes.

That said, “knowing the purpose of use” always felt more reassuring than “random acts of kindness”.

“Deal,” Eugene said.

“Worthy of the Malloy family’s talent.” Billy bowed slightly. “Please follow me.”

“You’re coming with me, right?” Knight Saint Bernard wagged his tail. “See, I told you it’s cheap! Mr. Enbillick is really a good person!”

“Play with your ball.” Eugene sighed softly.

Ditching this guy now wasn’t an option. With Golden Sword involved, at least he didn’t have to worry about this guy anymore.

A gold wheel was money, after all, and Golden Sword had always been very accommodating to his customers. Since Enbillick Alva was willing to bring along the dog-headed knight, it showed he was confident in protecting him.

“Do you want to play catch in the carriage?” Knight Saint Bernard asked.

“…Really no need,” Eugene replied helplessly.

Golden Sword maintained an appropriate distance, leading the way in front. His steps were confident and light, showing no flaws.

It was only natural for merchants to pursue profit. Yet, Eugene still had a trace of unease—this was a job that could potentially offend the dragon race. The Claw Scar Mountains were close to the Dragon Mountains, not far from the Dragon’s Lair. Was Golden Sword really just doing this for money?

From what he knew, Enbillick Alva wasn’t such a shallow person.

But at this point, he really had no other choice. Not to mention investigating the altar’s location, just relying on those few nuns, they definitely couldn’t escape on their own.

In the midst of the snowstorm, Eugene stepped into the modest-looking carriage. The next second, a soft white light flickered, and the carriage took off at an angle, soaring into the sky.

The street was bustling with people, and not a single one looked up, as if the speeding flying carriage didn’t exist at all. Billy, acting as the coachman, drove the robust swift-feather horses from outside the carriage.

Countless magic props shone continuously. The swift-feather horses neighed softly, and the carriage shot towards the Claw Scar Mountains like an arrow.

Knight Saint Bernard pressed his nose against the carriage glass, marveling at the shrinking city. Eugene looked in another direction—the swirling snow formed a thick fog, and the distant scenery turned into a dim gray. It was as if, beyond Ice Rock City, nothing else existed.

“The Goddess will look after her devout followers. May your life be filled with vitality.” Eugene prayed softly.

---

The author has something to say:

A bit of calm before the storm (?)

Let’s accumulate some rage for Nol, as for Teest… Teest can’t get angry and can only ponder over life!

Mr. Golden Sword used the strongest magic of Tahe—financial power.

---

Kinky Thoughts:

Saint Bernard is too cute for this world! Nothing bad better happen to him!

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 143: The Devious Demon King

Eternal Church Holy Land, Immortal Church Dungeon.

Knight Marion moved silently in the shadows. The place was heavily guarded that not even Eugene dared to infiltrate recklessly. She could undertake this mission only because she possessed two innate skills: “Dark Stealth” and “War Intuition”.

The sacrifices were kept in the deepest darkness, having been fed honey and oil in advance and cast with a sleeping curse. They were lying there as orderly as corpses, only their shallow breathing remained in the night, quieter than lambs awaiting slaughter.

Using her dark vision, Marion looked at them sadly.

She couldn’t save everyone—to gather as much information as possible about the Oracle Sacrifice, the altar must be drenched in the blood of the sacrifices. If she were to let them go, it would certainly alarm the enemy.

She could only take one person with her, Sister Fischer, who was from the same school as her.

Marion checked each cell but still couldn’t find the young nun among the people.

Suddenly, Marion’s eyes lit up with a white glow, her “War Intuition” quickly warning her. Marion immediately disappeared into the darkness, returning to her original cell.

Damn it. If she couldn’t find her target, she would have to resort to the backup plan.

Which was, Sister Holly sneaking in with her two students and swapping out three innocent people, then personally searching for Sister Fischer. What she needed to do at that time was ensure their safe evacuation once they found the target.

Knight Eugene had advised against it, believing it unnecessary for all three to infiltrate—especially since the two young nuns were too young—but was sternly refused by Sister Holly.

“Mr. Eugene, you believe that Investigation Knights are more willing to sacrifice for God, and knights should devote themselves to protecting the people. Similarly, we are more willing to give everything to God than innocent people who are pure and ignorant. Even if it’s just for three people, it’s worth it.”

Sister Holly said devoutly, “My children and I are already prepared.”

Eugene had no reply, only to agree, but he made a condition—he also wanted to blend in with the sacrifices, to better investigate and protect the nuns more properly.

…If only she could find Miss Fischer first, no one would have to take the risk, Marion thought anxiously in her cell.

Time is running out.

……

Sister Fischer—no, High Priest Fischer—was sitting in his luxurious room, bitterly communicating with someone.

“I will try to move the followers from the west of the city.” Fischer pinched the bridge of his nose hard. “I can’t guarantee the outcome. If it’s too obvious, it will definitely arouse suspicion.”

“Just move some people. That’s enough.” From the other side of the communication crystal, Painter smiled. “More importantly—”

Fischer interrupted him coldly, “Have some dignity, Painter. My personal funds aren’t your money bag. Asking for three thousand gold wheels as soon as you open your mouth, do you want to bathe in gold coins?”

“The famous leader of the Drifting Mercenary Group, do you really think I believe you’re broke just because you dress shabbily?”

“Calm down, sir. Anger is bad for your health.” Painter’s tone was smooth. “It was Mr. Mad Monk who specifically requested this. I’m just the messenger.”

“Is three thousand gold wheels enough?” Fischer’s tone brightened in an instant.

“Of course! Oh, remember, I need two thousand in cash and one thousand in gems,” Painter responded with a smile. “The sooner, the better.”

“An hour. Give me a location.”

“You’re so straightforward!”

“But I still have to ask. Painter, where is this money going? The Eternal Church is always watching the market. In case they notice something…”

“No worries, no worries. Just buying some very ordinary things. You have to have confidence in those two.”

Painter smiled, looking out the window, where snow piled up to the height of a palm. A plump bird jumped from a branch, causing the snow to fall in a flurry.

Soon after, in a certain snowfield.

“You’re truly evil.”

In the cold wind, the slender Sister Teesti made a praying gesture, her long hair gently fluttering in the wind. Her expression was pitiful, and her tone innocent and sad—Nol had to admit, if it weren’t for the blood-stained golden threads between his fingers, the scene would be quite beautiful.

“I’m not interested in crushing the weak, but this is the first time I’ve received a slaughter order from you. Ah, this day has come sooner than I expected.”

Teest theatrically lifted his skirt, stepping over bodies steaming with warmth.

Fresh organs fell onto the snow, quickly freezing. Pairs of cloudy eyes were wide open as snowflakes continued to gently fall on them. Everything happened so fast that their owners didn’t even know what was happening until they were dead.

“Actually, you could do it yourself, couldn’t you? You just want to see bloodshed, Lord Nol.”

The Mad Monk, wearing his young shell, stopped a few steps from Nol.

“…Have you had your fun?” Nol rubbed his temples helplessly.

Teest hopped about in the blood-stained snow, clearly having pent-up aggression these days. His desire to perform had increased by fifty percent.

At this moment, around them lay a thousand plump meat sheep.

These sheep were from Sheepskin Ball Village at the foot of the snowy mountains. They were good quality and quickly delivered—Nol went as a merchant in disguise, and just in case, he drenched himself in pungent cologne.

Nol offered a buying price slightly above the market rate under the guise of “urgent need”, spending a total of two thousand gold wheels. The deal made the village chief so happy, he nearly took off like a propeller.

Then, they drove the sheep to an uninhabited snowfield, where the Mad Monk neatly dealt with them.

Actually, this wasn’t a good choice, as the extreme cold damaged the quality of the blood and meat. But with the Temple watching closely, he could only transport within the territory of Gratice.

“We can make pepper mutton bone soup tonight.” Teest stretched his body. “Pity the meat has another use… Ah, you’re truly an evil genius. I’ve never thought of such a novel way of desecration!”

“Thank you.” Nol clapped his hands. “A Demon King must look the part.”

At Nol’s summon, skeletons climbed out from the snow, standing blankly in place—they were just the lowest level of skeleton foot soldiers and Nol could summon thousands of them.

This time, the skeletons had a special task.

Nol waved his staff, and blue fire traced a path through the air. The flesh and fur of the sheep carcasses slowly wriggled, leaving their original skeletons to cover the bare skeletons, gradually shaping into thin, blank-eyed “humans”.

White sheep wool interlinked, concentrating at the top of the head, changing into different colors. Excess wool wove itself into fabric, covering the “humans'” private parts—though under the fabric, there was actually nothing.

In less than ten minutes, only clean white snow and white sheep bones remained. Hundreds of pale humans stood on the snowfield with unblinking eyes and horizontal pupils.

Marion said that the Church’s sacrifices would be hypnotized throughout, so as long as they kept their eyes closed, it should be fine. Nol put away his staff—his workload was already big enough, so he would bluff his way through unseen parts.

After all, when it was time to secretly swap out the sacrifices, he still had to fine-tune the appearance of these “people”.

The skeleton foot soldiers suddenly acquired an additional layer of “clothing”. Some wandered around curiously, many even rotating their heads 180 degrees to admire their flesh-enriched backs.

“The meat is a bit of a waste.”

Teest, twirling the golden thread, looked sorrowfully at the “fake people” nearby. “Now that they’ve become like this, I don’t feel like eating them anymore… Honey, that meat was very good. I hardly smelled any mutton odor.”

“Trading it for some lives is still worth it,” Nol said.

“It seems you can’t be said to be absolutely just either.” Teest laughed. “Lord of Creation, who favors humans—”

“No, I’m just a normal person.”

Nol, holding a sheep skull in both hands, added a touch of self-mockery to his tone. “I’m full of personal desires. You should know that best, dear.”

He emphasized the last word with a slow, suggestive enunciation.

Teest snapped his mouth shut, swallowing the joke he was about to make along with the cold air.

Nol rarely called him that. A warmth flushed through Teest’s nape for a moment, as if a warm blade skimmed his skin.

“Um, actually, I’m not that clear on it.”

After a few seconds of silence, Teest bent down with a smile to pick up the bones for stew. “So, you’ll have to favor me a bit more, Husband.”

Now it was Nol’s turn to be taken aback.

He dropped the sheep skull and quickly turned around, casting [Ash Remnants] on the “fake people” scattered on the ground to maintain their body temperature, breathing, and heartbeat.

Mr. Demon King’s ears were even redder than before. Teest was willing to bet ten gold wheels that it had little to do with the cold here.

……

Several days later, one night.

With Marion and Eugene’s full support, Nol finally managed to enter the sacrificial dungeon as he wished. Fortunately, infiltrating was much easier than escaping. Perhaps the Eternal Church never imagined that someone would be so eager to become a sacrifice.

Eugene went to the male prisoners’ side. The three “nuns” followed Marion, looking for people on the female prisoners’ side.

Of course, they all knew that dear Sister Fischer was sitting in the High Priest’s chair, busy preparing for the sacrifice. If they didn’t infiltrate in time, the Age Reversion blood potion would lose its effect—on Fischer’s territory, it was easier to replenish.

When Mr. Fischer personally came to deliver the medicine, he witnessed a scene that was… not sure whether to call it eerie or spectacular.

Painter released dream magic, causing Knight Marion to fall deeply asleep, probably dreaming that “she was still awake”. Nol was making rifts in the darkness—

Snowflakes fluttered beyond the space.

Nol dragged the fake people from the snowfield, while Teest adjusted their facial features, magically changed their clothes, and laid them flat on the ground.

Warmth came from the fireplace beyond the space.

The replaced ones, wearing wool undergarments, were sent to a large room behind the fire circle, where someone would soon come to receive them. Fischer probably knew what Painter wanted those gems for. Gratice never lacked smugglers, and gems were much more useful than gold for buying passage.

The Drifting Mercenary Group had excellent connections, Fischer smirked.

Both took a gulp of the replenishing blood potion, busy and bustling.

The Eternal Church’s precious sacrifices were one by one replaced with—Fischer wasn’t sure what those things were, but he felt they weren’t human—very similar counterfeits.

“My Lord, if impure blood is used for the sacrifice, the sacrifice may not be able to continue successfully.” Fischer pleaded earnestly. “I don’t know what you two have swapped in, but surely it can’t just be any material.”

“It’s fine. Just cause some commotion when the time comes.”

Nol wiped the sweat from his face and dragged over another fake person. He straightened the other’s twisted neck from the back of the head, arranged the distorted limbs, and then handed it over to Teest for face sculpting.

“But…”

Fischer glanced again at the “fake person” on the ground. Its facial muscles twisted into a half-smile, its horizontal pupils rolling chaotically, making him, a former Eternalist, quite uncomfortable.

‘Too creepy,’ Fischer thought, glancing at Nol. ‘Truly worthy of being followed by my God.’

“If my honey says it’s fine, then it must be fine.” Teest was shaping the thing’s facial muscles. “He wouldn’t lie about something like this.”

“Yes.” Fischer quickly bowed his head.

He glanced at Painter nearby—the former pope was focused on the ceiling, as if a beautiful masterpiece had suddenly appeared there.

Presumably, he couldn’t bear to directly witness the eerie scene before him, and Fischer felt somewhat relieved.

“That dog-headed knight.” He reported earnestly, “He’s been circling around the church recently, waiting for you to take me out. If this continues, he’s very likely to be regarded as an enemy of the Church, and his life will be in danger.”

“Forget it. Let your confidant handle it. Seeing us, Mr. Saint Bernard should be calmer.” Nol sighed.

They had spent hours on mental preparation in advance but couldn’t overcome the dog-headed knight’s stubbornness. He insisted on seeing them with his own eyes. Fortunately, the Oracle Sacrifice was managed by Fischer, so Knight Saint Bernard should be in good hands.

‘As long as he’s kept out of the center of events,’ Nol thought.

The next day, the sacrificial event officially began.

The Eternal Church’s convoy assembled in the center of the cathedral. Black carriages drawn by blindfolded horses whose mouths were stuffed with blue fluorescent lilies stood motionless, quiet as corpses.

In front of the horses wasn’t a door, but a sloping passage leading underground. This passage could only be opened with the Pope and the auxiliary High Priest present. For the Temple, where this passage led remained a mystery.

At this moment, only pure darkness lay ahead of the convoy.

The sacrifices were loaded into the prepared carriages one by one, suppressed by layers of magical arrays, ready to be transported to the altar. However, when it came to loading Knight Marion and Knight Eugene, an unexpected change occurred.

“Stop.”

The masked High Priest approached, casually pointing out Marion and Eugene. A majestic and deep voice came from behind the mask. “The aura of these two is wrong… They’re not weak enough. What’s going on?”

While asking “what’s going on,” his killing intent had already leaked out. Two deadly curses shot towards Eugene and Marion, who nearly instantly sprang up to dodge the deadly moves.

“So we have rats,” the High Priest said contemptuously, casually waving his hand, and dozens of black light balls appeared in the air, smashing towards the two knights.

At the same time, the surrounding guards also made their moves. Eugene clenched his teeth. “Retreat!”

The mission started off on the wrong foot.

Eugene couldn’t understand—they had made their disguise perfect, yet the High Priest still spotted something amiss. Theoretically, “Eye of the Storm” wasn’t so adept at combat. He wasn’t supposed to have such high-level combat intuition.

Were the three nuns not discovered because they were too weak? At this point, with limited equipment, they really couldn’t abduct someone from the Eternal Church’s headquarters… Direct infiltration was indeed too risky. They needed to think of another way…

Seeing the two Investigation Knights decisively retreat, the priests present all breathed a sigh of relief.

One of them saluted Fischer. “We were almost deceived by the despicable people of the Temple. Fortunately, you personally inspected the sacrifices. His Holiness, the Pope, will surely be moved by your loyalty.”

High Priest Fischer chuckled mysteriously. “It’s all arranged by my God.”

Well, to be honest, he didn’t actually notice anything unusual. Eugene truly lived up to being one of the strongest Chosen Ones of the Temple. But it didn’t matter. He already knew the correct answer beforehand.

By the way, among this batch of sacrifices, not a single real one was present. Through the holes in his mask, Fischer looked sympathetically at the other priests.

Finally, his gaze landed on the Pope’s carriage.

The Pope stood by the carriage, calmly observing everything. This guy had ruled the Church for over a hundred years yet looked to be around sixty years old.

The old Pope’s face was gaunt, still showing his handsome features from his youth. From his head protruded a pair of spiraling, twisted black goat horns, with ancient silver chains and black veils hanging from the tips, conveniently covering the upper half of his face.

Above the black veil, the emblem of the Eternal Son was embroidered with silver thread—two circular arcs intersecting, symmetric full moons above and below. The overlapping part in the middle resembled an eye without a pupil.

A tangible scrutiny came from beneath the black veil, and Fischer humbly bowed his head, drawing a circle over his chest.

The Supplement Demon Goat Gregori Gilmore, the Pope.

The Demon Goat symbolized misfortune and curse, adept in black magic and evil sacrifices. In terms of monster strength, it was considered above average.

Once the Supplement Demon integrated, it was hard to change. It was an existence that defied common sense and creating an “artificial chimera” was even more fantastical. Supplement Demons could only increase various attributes or skills of similar monsters by consuming Supplement Potions after their integration.

The problem was, this old Pope had lived too long—

With accumulation over time, this old bag’s attributes were definitely terrifying. Facing the old Pope, High Priest Fischer had no intention of challenging him.

But his incapability didn’t mean his God was incapable.

Fischer withdrew his gaze, his lips curling slightly behind his mask.

Inside the sacrificial carriage.

[The carriage is moving.] Nol curiously looked around. [We are going downwards.]

[Indeed.] In the cramped carriage, Teest lay on top of Nol, the two forming a perfect cross.

Painter looked at the two young men in front of him, who were obviously communicating through some method he was unaware of, with resigned amusement.

The journey was boring, and the former Pope had quite a few things he wanted to discuss, but with listening magic all around, he could only sulk in silence.

Watching Mr. Painter visibly wilt, Nol thought for a moment and reached into Teest’s pouch with his hand, pulling out his own pen and paper.

Please, he signaled Painter with his eyes.

[Actually, it’s nothing major. Judging by the reactions outside, Eugene and Marion escaped successfully. Even with the old Pope present, with Eugene’s level, he wouldn’t be quietly captured.] Painter wrote fluently. [I’m just a bit bored, but thanks for your concern.]

[You’re quite noisy with just a pen and paper.] Teest scribbled on the paper.

[Thank you for the compliment.] Painter wrote modestly. [Did you two bring any food? I’m a bit hungry.]

Teest: [We only have mutton soup, mutton pies, and lamb ribs.]

Painter glanced at the two with a complex look, then at the “people” sprawled around.

[I guess I’m not that hungry.] He wrote resignedly.

After a long darkness, the carriage slightly trembled, and the glow of a large teleportation array lit up from outside.

With the incoming light, Painter looked meaningfully at Teest, then grabbed the pen. [This journey will take a while. Do you want to hear an interesting story?]

[We’re not really nuns…] Teest began to write.

[Yes!] Nol wrote.

Teest silently crossed out the unfinished sentence, pretending nothing happened.

Painter smiled slightly as his pen touched the paper.

……

Meanwhile, in the best room of the inn in Ice Rock City.

The blizzard unusually ceased, revealing a sky so clear it took one’s breath away. Even during the day, a hint of the moon’s remnant could be seen.

“Sir, our capabilities are limited. We really couldn’t find any trace of Drake and his party,” a middle-aged man dressed as a butler reported.

“It’s as I expected. It’s not your fault. Even the Investigation Knights haven’t found them.”

Golden Sword Enbillick Alva shook his head, relaxing against the armchair. “Any other news?”

“In the vicinity of the Immortal Church, Eugene Malloy and his subordinates were suspected to be found, and relevant personnel are further confirming,” the man continued to report.

“Good news.” Enbillick stood up, stretching his shoulders and neck. “Once their identities are confirmed, keep a close eye on that gentleman in secret, and have someone prepare the best carriage and horses.”

“What about Drake and his party…?”

“Considering the time, the Eternal Church’s Oracle Sacrifice is about to start.” Enbillick crouched in front of the fireplace, leisurely warming himself. “With our Captain of the Fifth Brigade appearing here, and so urgently that you guys noticed, it seems the sacrificial procession is about to depart.”

“This year is special. The Eternal Church is unlikely to take the water route, which makes it easier to intervene. Would our Mr. Drake miss such an event? …Even if he wanted to, fate wouldn’t allow it.”

The middle-aged man paused. “Do you have other intelligence…”

“Just intuition.”

Enbillick poked the dancing flames with his fingertip. “Ah, by the way, when you go out later, help me send a package home—Mo and Col love the mutton here. If I don’t buy some to take back, they’re definitely going to cry.”

“Yes!”

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 142: The Phantom of God

“Miss Mary.”

Painter—School Sister Holly elegantly sipped her tea. “It has been eight years since we last heard from you. The last time was when you had just been promoted to a knight in the Second Brigade.”

He smiled, and his tone was filled with a touch of sentimentality. What was more terrifying was that he sounded sincere. Nol glanced at Painter out of the corner of his eye, wondering how he managed to do it.

Knight Marion was slightly startled, her expression softening. “Yes, it has been eight years, Sister. In fact, I still miss the cookies you used to make.”

“The secret was the cinnamon from Inato and a bit of orange peel. I remember you liked half the sugar.” Painter smiled, eyes narrowing. “If I had known you liked them so much, I would have given you the recipe. But it’s not too late now. It’s perfect with winter tea.”

“Haha, you remember so clearly.” Knight Marion’s cheeks flushed slightly. “Could it be because…”

“You and Odette sneaking into the kitchen for a midnight snack, arguing over whether to take savory croissants or sweet cookies.” Painter smiled, changing his address naturally*. “I was the one who separated you, and at that time, you only took the cookies with half the sugar.”

*Clarity: He started using the informal form of you (你). Note: Whenever you see something mentioned like this, just know that oftentimes they switch forms of address (formal and informal). In this case, switching to informal shows a more friendly closeness (as it’s a more casual address). Since I don’t want to keep making T/N of this whenever this happens, just keep this in mind going forward. You can tell, based on the context, which form is being switched to when it’s mentioned.

The knight’s dignified face drifted, and her ears started to redden.

Painter smiled more broadly. “It’s all in the past.”

Nol took a deep breath inwardly, respecting the masterful digger of embarrassing histories.

“How nostalgic,” Painter continued. “You always didn’t get along with Odette, and when you found out she stayed in the Fini Empire to become a priest, you cried for a long time… Do you still keep in touch?”

“We-we occasionally write letters.”

“If convenient, please send her my regards.” Painter took another sip of tea. “Children are amazing. That tomboy Odette became a gentle and dignified minister, and you cut off your beautiful long hair… I almost didn’t recognize you when I first saw you.”

Marion opened her mouth, looking helplessly at Eugene—she couldn’t take the lead in the conversation in front of Painter. Mr. Eugene remained unmoved.

“Eleven years ago, you also led us on a tough mountain pilgrimage.” Marion continued bravely, “Heather caught a severe cold, and we camped in the uninhabited snowy plains for two weeks. At that time, I thought it was a great hardship. Only after joining the Investigation Knights did I understand your intentions—the training in the snowy mountains, I got first place in the group.”

Painter raised his eyes, showing a reminiscent expression. “If possible, I wouldn’t want you to suffer like that… Haa, maybe it’s because I’m getting older. I remember it was Heather’s twin sister, Hil, who got sick.”

“But one thing I won’t forget is that you never used to eat snow carrots, but during our time camping in the snow, you quietly ate the snow carrots Odette found without a single complaint.”

“Maybe I remembered wrong. I always mix up Heather and Hil.” Marion smiled sheepishly. “Anyway, the leader told me the situation. Now I’m responsible for the investigation of sacrificial offerings for the Oracle Sacrifice. I’ll do my best to help you!”

She looked at Eugene again, nodding imperceptibly. “I have another meeting at noon. I’ll come back to talk with you in detail tonight.”

“Go ahead, child,” Painter said warmly. “Be safe.”

“Yes, Sister Holly.”

Nol couldn’t help but whisper to Teest telepathically, [This isn’t something that can be faked, right?]

Teest: [Details like these are the most prone to mistakes. If it were really a disguise, the old fox should avoid such topics.]

Nol felt conflicted. Painter had defected from the church twenty-one years ago. And eleven years ago, Painter was only in his thirties.

The identity of “Sister Holly”, if it was Painter from the start… Did he quickly adopt a nun’s identity after defecting? What for? A hobby?

His gaze towards Painter gradually became subtle.

“I’ll step out for a moment too.” Eugene nodded in acknowledgment. “I hope you can forgive my intrusion. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Given the Oracle Sacrifice, your caution is very necessary. If it makes you feel at ease, you can verify my identity,” Painter said elegantly, sitting with his hands clasped on his lap. “Besides, I’m also pleased to see Mary again.”

The two looked at each other calmly, one openly admitting to probing, the other accepting the probe.

This identity confirmation ultimately ended in Painter’s victory. Nol breathed a sigh of relief. How to put it… Even in such matters, experience still counted.

“When did you start, Mr. Nun?”

Not long after Eugene left, Teest bared his fangs.

“Well… The second year after I defected, I just happened to get a suitable identity.” Painter’s face remained calm. “A Temple position is quite convenient. Besides educating novice nuns, a school nun can travel alone for pilgrimage. At that time, the Temple was chasing me across the continent, so this disguise was the best.”

Indeed, the Temple would never guess that the young and promising Pope would return to the Temple in drag right after fleeing, brazenly roaming around.

Nol looked at Painter expressionlessly. It was a bit inappropriate to think that this guy had always been guiding young girls in the guise of a nun…

“To be clear, I’ve always maintained a sense of distance.” Painter cleared his throat. “Even with those kids, I would live next door, just like now.”

“Oh, is that so?” Teest raised his eyebrows. “Then you could’ve been a praying nun—also able to travel for pilgrimage, without having to babysit.”

Painter’s smile dimmed for a moment. “Our doctrine needs change.” He lowered his gaze. “No one is born a zealot… Even if those kids are destined to become zealots, I hope they receive better guidance.”

“School Nun Holly Artis and the Guidance Monk Tinder Green have been identities This Villain used for nearly twenty years. If you hear these names next time, please spare me.”

“That famous commoner monk Tinder Green?” Teest clicked his tongue. “You’re really busy.”

Then, with malice, he hummed, “Interesting, I remember Tinder Green never taught Eugene Malloy. You left the most dangerous bomb unchecked, yet have time to educate irrelevant people?”

Painter put down his teacup, pretending not to hear this question. “It’s time to discuss serious matters, gentlemen.”

“Since Eugene sent Marion, we can enter the team through the Investigation Knight’s connections. On Fischer’s side, we can have him turn a blind eye…”

The three quietly discussed the plan.

Surrounded by soundproof magic, Knight Saint Bernard slept, snoring away—while Knight Marion and Sister Holly reminisced about the past, this thick-furred knight slept by the fireplace.

……

Knight Eugene returned to the inn. He was still dressed like a simple local, his golden-brown hair dyed the common dark brown of the area. Paired with his deliberately subdued posture, the dark color added a somewhat gloomy temperament to him.

Sister Holly’s identity had been confirmed by Marion, and the details they talked about were indeed hard to fake. Yet, he felt an inexplicable unease every time he saw Sister Holly’s pale green eyes, reminding him of someone else. It was absurd, but also strikingly similar. Not just the eyes.

When he knocked on the door again, Sister Holly was nowhere to be seen. Teesti and Noli were watching the snow on the balcony, while Knight Saint Bernard was curled up by the fireplace, snoring loudly.

“You’re back.” Sister Noli smiled—a serene and beautiful nun who always seemed a bit nervous when she spoke to him. But considering they were young and knew he was the captain of the Investigation Knights, it was normal for Eugene to think they felt nervous around him.

“Miss Holly is in the kitchen. She said she wanted to bake some cookies for Sister Mary. You can come look for her later.” Teesti, as usual, clung to Noli’s arm. Her golden hair wound around the other’s sleeve, like some kind of climbing plant.

Noli’s close friend, the fragile and timid Sister Teesti, a naive daughter of a wealthy merchant family, spoke with a soft accent typical of lower nobility. Yet, whenever he caught sight of those golden eyes, he sensed a subtle mockery hidden within. When he tried to look closer, she would shyly avert her gaze.

“I can wait here,” Eugene said. “I’d like to try the warm cookies too.”

Here it comes again. Eugene sharply noticed a hint of disdain in Sister Teesti’s fleeting glance.

“There’s stewed apple juice on the table.” Noli patted the back of Teesti’s hand and politely said, “You can have some to warm up.”

Holding the steaming juice, Eugene walked towards the balcony.

It was getting late. Snowflakes like goose feathers fell from the pitch-black sky, quickly covering the streets with snow. The buildings of Ice Rock City, primarily in shades of gray and black, were now hidden in shadows, making the golden lights particularly striking.

It was as if the heavens and earth had reversed, with the snow drifting towards the stars.

Eugene sipped the juice, which was sweet and refreshing. There was certainly a good amount of honey added.

Two meters away.

‘…Damn,’ Nol thought.

With such a large presence as Eugene nearby, he and Teest couldn’t freely chat. If they did talk, it would have to be about things young nuns would discuss. Even if they used telepathy, they would still appear silent on the surface. No matter how he thought about it, the atmosphere was awkward.

Teest clearly didn’t want to talk to Eugene, so he had to find a topic to casually chat about.

“You’re very polite to the beastmen.” Nol glanced at the sleeping Knight Saint Bernard. “The knights I’ve met before are… Well, quite rigid.” Theoretically, the Temple wasn’t friendly towards non-human races, with some being designated as “monsters” by the Temple. Zealots, especially, would keep a distance from non-human races.

Eugene was quite different in this aspect. Curiosity was inevitable. Nol was very interested—was this a contradiction of “Anstis’s Chosen One” or…

Eugene turned his head. “You really are like Marion. She was curious too.”

“The Holy Scriptures mention that humans are the most vibrant race on this earth, favored by the Goddess of Life,” Teest muttered aptly.

Eugene pursed his lips.

“…Don’t take the Holy Scriptures at face value.” A voice floated from distant memories.

It was also a day with heavy snow. How old was he then—three? Four?

Eugene Malloy received a very special oracle shortly after birth, which the Malloy family treasured. Servants had to observe for over a year before being assigned to care for Eugene.

Eugene had a perfect childhood. Education about faith was gradual, waiting until he grew a bit older before sending him to the best theological school in Bissus, the Holy Land.

But under this protection, in the garden at the end of winter, Eugene met a stranger.

A tall, thin, redhead young man wearing a wooden mask carved with the emblem of the Goddess of Life. Through the holes in the mask, a pair of pale green eyes shone like new sprouts in spring.

“Good morning, child.” The stranger greeted with a smile. “I am an envoy of Lady Tilia, here to guide you.”

Eugene didn’t believe him. He immediately told his parents, and the Malloy household searched for a long time without finding any trace. Thus, Eugene’s parents concluded—either their child had an imaginary friend, or he really saw an envoy. Either way, Eugene was safe.

So, only when Eugene was alone in the garden would the strange envoy appear. After countless unsuccessful calls for his parents, Eugene had to endure this peculiar fellow.

The man always wore the emblem mask, sitting on the branches of a short tree, telling him all sorts of interesting anecdotes. Those stories were fascinating, and over time, young Eugene couldn’t hate this “envoy” anymore.

Only one problem remained—the many principles the man spoke of differed from what his parents taught him.

“Humans are the most vibrant race on this earth, favored by the Goddess of Life,” young Eugene stated seriously. “Non-human races have mixed beliefs and cannot be trusted…”

“The Holy Scriptures are written by humans. Don’t take it at face value,” the man said with a smile. “The lives of all races are worthy of praise.”

Eugene: “……”

Eugene: “But you’re also human. Why should I believe you?”

“Because I’m an envoy,” the man said mysteriously. “I know your oracle. You’re special, so the Goddess specially sent me to guide you.”

“The Goddess is kind and friendly. But humans, for their own sake, often do things that aren’t so glorious… like consolidating faith with arrogance and harm, exchanging the glory of the Goddess for wealth. Child, you need to learn to distinguish.”

‘That’s so hard,’ Eugene thought. It was very different from what his family taught him.

Seeing Eugene’s face wrinkle into a frown, the man laughed loudly.

“If a stranger walks past you with his nose in the air, ready to burst out and scold you non-stop, commanding you around if you do anything not to his liking, would you like him?”

“No…”

“Would you agree with what he believes in?”

“No!” Eugene stood tall.

“Then remember this point well,” the envoy said, his deep wine-red hair slightly shaking beside the mask. “Believe me, many adults can’t remember this.”

Eugene: “You mean…”

“Don’t be bound by rules and traditions. Think for yourself,” the envoy whispered. “Understand the core doctrines. The Goddess of Life is kind. She is the source of all life. Her followers naturally should be kind to others.”

“Child, trust your own judgment. Believe in your own God.”

“I’ll remember,” young Eugene said. “Can you tell a story now?”

“Today, let’s talk about the beastmen.” The envoy’s voice was full of laughter. “They are a group of fluffy good knights, living in the snow of harsh winters. Let me start with the compliments they would like…”

This “imaginary friend” accompanied him from when he could speak and walk, all the way until he was twelve—when he left for the Holy Land Bissus.

Their parting was unremarkable, without any forewarning. The envoy’s disappearance was as sudden as his arrival. No matter how long Eugene stood in the garden by himself, he never appeared again.

…And when Eugene learned about Godfrey Painter in the theological school in Bissus, he realized why the “envoy” no longer appeared. At one glance, he recognized the hair color and eyes of the person in the painting.

Just a little bit more, Eugene thought. Just a little bit more, and he would’ve truly believed that man was an envoy. Even in Bissus’s best school, the instructors weren’t as wise and humorous, nor did they have such unique insights as that man.

Godfrey Painter. The defected Pope, the greatest disgrace in the history of the Temple of Life.

Just because of recognizing him as a godfather, the Malloy family couldn’t raise their heads in public for over a decade.

Perhaps the man’s abrupt visit was just for some godfather responsibility or a ridiculous compensation mentality. Eugene hated his mockery, but those words were etched in his soul. No matter how hard he tried to detest the man, he had to admit, Painter was right.

…So there was only one solution left.

Eugene pulled his thoughts back from the memories, stretching out a hand to catch the large snowflakes sticking together.

“God is merciful,” he said. “Human words are insufficient to bear God’s wisdom. The Holy Scripture is a tool for understanding God, not the truth. I will act according to my own understanding and love God with my own understanding.”

“This is different from what I’ve heard about the Malloy family,” Sister Noli said. “Your thoughts are very special.”

“This isn’t my own idea.” Eugene closed his fingers, the snowflake melting in his glove. “Just someone’s opinion.”

Nol could probably guess who that “someone” was. Mr. Painter certainly wouldn’t let Eugene, this ticking time bomb, go unchecked.

“Oh… sorry. It sounds like you love the god in your imagination,” Sister Teesti murmured, leaning on Noli’s shoulder. “The illusion ‘someone’ created for you.”

“In the end, we all live in someone else’s imagination. I think even God does, and Lady Tilia would understand all this.” Eugene smiled again.

Nol’s eyebrows twitched. Knight Eugene was always smiling, but this time, his smile seemed genuinely sincere.

“I will surpass his imagination,” Eugene said, regardless of whether those two young nuns understood. “I will comprehend the true will of God. I will offer the purest love and devotion.”

Alright, Mr. Painter’s post-supervision was necessary. With Eugene’s obsession, if he really became Anstis Chosen One, Fischer might not get the chance to be Pope.

“Thank you for your teachings.” Nol tried to end the topic.

“What if the direction you want to surpass goes against your nature?” Teest suddenly said. “If you find you can’t give the so-called pure love…”

Huh? 

Nol looked at Teest somewhat surprised. The Mad Monk always sneered at religious topics. What’s going on today?

…Wait, he understood. Teest must be testing this once Eternal Son’s Chosen One, to see if Eugene had noticed anything unusual on the path of faith.

When it came to matters related to faith, indeed, Teest was more attentive. Mr. Xu, a young man true to his roots, sighed internally. He really couldn’t understand the mindset of a zealot.

Eugene’s smile deepened, his gaze resting on them, his dark green eyes shining with a peculiar light.

“If I believe it’s love, then it is love. If I believe it’s God’s, then it is God’s.” He gently uttered the unusual words. “It definitely won’t contradict my nature.”

Nol: “…..”

Sister Teesti smiled sweetly for the first time, letting go of Noli’s arm. She lifted her skirt and curtsied. “Worthy of being the captain of the Fifth Brigade. Thank you for your teachings.”

“Oh, what did you learn?” Eugene asked curiously.

Teest stared at the oblivious knight, smiling even brighter. “I’ve recently discovered that some things I thought were pure trash can actually be recycled and reused.”

Eugene: “…?”

Nol: “…………”

Such a strange conversation. For a moment, he even had the absurd thought, ‘The Mad Monk is going to be led astray.’

……

That night.

After a brief discussion on the plan related to the sacrificial offerings, everyone returned to their rooms. Their overt objective was to “rescue Fischer”, and Eugene didn’t resist too much—had Mr. Eugene known that these three audacious beings planned to assassinate the old Pope, he wouldn’t have been so lenient.

Nol, as usual, hugged Teest. Today’s Teest was exceptionally well-behaved, so much so that Nol couldn’t help but touch his forehead, fearing he might have caught a cold in the chill.

Although he knew that a False God wouldn’t really catch a cold. But now, Teest seemed too fragile, and it worried him.

This was the mark left on Teest by the Eternal Church.

Had Painter not intervened, Eugene would have been seized by the Church first and transformed into a Supplement Demon. Having received an oracle shortly after his birth, Eugene might not even have memories of his family. What would happen to his family? Nol wasn’t sure. Only that it wouldn’t be anything good.

Yet, Eugene’s fate changed, and he narrowly escaped hell. All the misfortune that hadn’t happened yet, wouldn’t happen.

Yet, Nol couldn’t change the past that Teest was destined to have.

Had Teest been taken away by the Temple of Life, he surely would have had a better life. It was hard to say about loyalty, but Teest would undoubtedly become a powerful Investigation Knight, hunting Eternalists more openly and righteously.

Even if there were emotional deficiencies, he would have a warm family instead of a cold gold wheel.

Nol suddenly felt sad.

Those oracles that represented fate—did they merely record fate, or did they weave it? This time, he had to find out for sure.

With a sigh, Nol kissed the top of Teest’s head.

“…What do you think about Eugene’s ideas?” Suddenly, Teest spoke up in the darkness.

His face was buried in Nol’s chest, and his breath was warm and moist.

“It’s hard to say which is crazier compared to Painter,” Nol replied with lingering fear, still stroking Teest’s long hair.

Teest let out a long breath. “Hmm, at least he has the merit of half a bean.”

‘But Eugene’s “love” was too fanatical,’ Teest thought. He didn’t agree, and obviously, Nol wouldn’t like it either. However, the idea of “surpassing imagination” was indeed good. He could think along those lines.

He gently kissed Nol’s collarbone.

Strangely, he didn’t feel the usual mood of hunting a target or the tremble of a pilgrimage.

‘It’s warm,’ he thought.

Teest quietly tightened his embrace.

Outside the window, the wind and snow howled. By the fireplace in Painter’s room, Knight Saint Bernard slept soundly, his ears twitching now and then.

Painter himself, holding a cup of stewed apple juice, stood on the deserted balcony. In the boundless night, snowflakes flew above the cup, swallowed by the steaming heat.

“‘He is destined to lead a long night. He is bound to die between canine teeth.'”

Painter looked towards the direction of the Eternal Church, raising his cup. “Old geezer, I have a good feeling… your prophecy has come to an end.”

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 141: An Unexpected Crisis

“Lord Eugene.”

In a dark alley, Knight Marion performed a simple courtesy. “The situation of the offerings for this ‘Oracle Sacrifice’ was investigated by us yesterday.”

“The Church won’t replenish the offerings on the Isle of Wails this time. They are cooperating with slave traders at the border and have issued special tasks to some Demons. Unfortunately, they are acting in a scattered and secretive manner, and we have only identified two cooperating slave traders.”

“This is the territory of the heretical church, and time is limited, so it’s not your fault.”

Eugene was dressed in the most common black and gray cotton robes of the area, with his cheeks hidden in the shadow of his hat.

Usually, a chaotic organization like the Eternal Church wouldn’t prey on its own for offerings. This time was an exception. To secure the support of Gratice, they needed to act even more covertly.

Sister Fischer being abducted by Demons seemed all too reasonable now. A sufficient blood sacrifice was needed either way, and sacrificing Temple nuns was certainly better than targeting the local populace. If it weren’t for Saint Bernard and himself keeping watch, the other nuns would likely be in danger too.

Knight Eugene pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on.

Both sides knew that the Temple couldn’t maintain this high level of surveillance for long. The Eternal Church not only didn’t plan to postpone the sacrifice but also intended to advance it. This indicated that the Church highly valued this Oracle Sacrifice, making the investigation more dangerous than ever.

“Have you seen this lady?” Eugene projected an image of Sister Fischer into the void.

“An Evergreen Nun?” Marion frowned slightly. “No, I haven’t. I’m incompetent. I’ve only seen the slaves that were bought.”

“She is a child under the Sister Nun, recently abducted by Demons in White Salt Village.”

Eugene dispelled the magical illusion. “Sister Holly is now in Ice Rock City, insisting on participating in this investigation… Marion Averill, I remember you were taught by Sister Holly when you were an Evergreen Nun?”

“Yes,” Marion said, somewhat flattered.

Knight Eugene was younger than her, and she hadn’t expected him to remember such details.

“You’re in charge of investigating the sacrifices. Since she was your mentor, why not pay her a visit along the way?” Eugene smiled. “In my view, you’re more suited to communicate with the nuns than I am.”

Marion paused for a few seconds, hesitating. “You mean…”

She was on a mission. Knight Eugene was always approachable, but on normal days, he would at most suggest she meet her mentor after the mission, never during it.

“You will have more topics to discuss, right? Like common memories, similar experiences… I will assist you with the investigation of the sacrifices, so it won’t delay the important matters.”

Eugene’s smile was unwavering.

“Understood!” Marion lowered her head, her reply firm.

As an Investigation Knight from the Fifth Brigade and a former student of Sister Holly, no one was more suitable than her for this delicate task.

Captain Eugene clearly had doubts about the identity of “Sister Holly”.

……

Two streets away.

Knight Saint Bernard hid his face in his hood, his tail dangling under the heavy cotton robe. Judging by his silhouette, he resembled a tall, robust human male.

There were too many humans here. The village chief had said that when humans outnumber you, it’s easier to move around with your face hidden. Saint Bernard firmly believed the village chief of Sheepskin Ball Village was always right.

From under the shadow of his hood, Saint Bernard inhaled the air, sniffing the city’s scents.

He smelled buttered and salted baked buns, the slightly charred fat on roast meat, sizzling pickled fish on a hot plate, and apples with a hint of alcohol…

He smelled human sweat, bad breath, frozen excrements, rotting meat and tubers, sprouting potatoes…

The scents here were far more complex than in Sheepskin Ball Village, drying out Saint Bernard’s nose. He preferred searching for targets in the clean snow mountains over finding someone in such a place.

Suddenly, he caught a familiar scent.

It was somewhat like boom fish, yet too light, mixed with a slightly bitter, complex medicinal smell—the scent of Sister Fischer!

Saint Bernard’s spirits lifted.

He continued to sniff the cold wind. Sister Fischer’s scent was intermittent, coming in and out, like a bit of straw in a flood of sewage. His head began to ache from the effort.

But she was a guest of Sheepskin Ball Village. Saint Bernard sprayed some protective spray on his nose, carefully licked his nostrils, and devoted himself to sniffing once more.

The scent broke off near the city center.

Knight Saint Bernard rubbed his dry, sore nose, looking towards the massive building complex ahead. He knew this was a gathering place for bad humans, the largest Eternal Church on the continent of Tahe.

But there were so many rooms. Whether above ground or below, the complex and chaotic scents were overwhelming. The area was too vast, making it impossible to pinpoint Sister Fischer’s location. How was he to rescue her?

Saint Bernard was anxious, pacing around a streetlamp.

The village chief had said to never approach the Eternal Church. But the village chief also said to never neglect any guest… What to do…

Should he get closer to check? He pondered, hoping it would be alright just to verify the scent trail.

He pulled his hood lower, his paws tucked into his pockets, and headed towards the Immortal Church, looking suspiciously out of place.

Unfortunately, Saint Bernard was unaware of the complexities of human disguises. He was just focused on sniffing, finding no scent, no scent, until—

“Who’s there?” A shadow flashed at his feet. An Immortal Knight blocked his path.

“I-I’m lost,” Saint Bernard said nervously, his tail hanging straight down. “I need to use the restroom. Do you know where the nearest one is?”

The Immortal Knight scoffed. His sword flashed, and Saint Bernard felt a chill on his scalp—his hood was slashed to pieces.

“Ouch!” Saint Bernard quickly retreated, his paws protecting his nearly cut ears.

“You’re not welcome here, dog-headed beastman.” The voice of the Immortal Knight came from behind the helmet, colder than the city’s wind. “Come again, and I’ll make a carpet out of your fur.”

‘This threat was too cruel,’ Saint Bernard thought angrily.

He bared his teeth at the knight and ran off quickly—better to report Sister Fischer’s situation to the friendly guests first. At least her scent didn’t include the stench of corpses. He knew she was still alive.

Just returning near the inn, Saint Bernard saw Sister Teesti.

Their lodging wasn’t low-grade and was surrounded by upscale shops. To the left of the inn was a small flower shop. Ordinary for most cities, but in Gratice, where even leafy vegetables needed to be traded with Shiva, flowers were an absolute luxury.

Petite Teesti squatted in front of a large bunch of blue roses, her long hair flowing like golden threads over her cotton robe. She stared at the bouquet as if trying to burn holes in the petals with her gaze.

Saint Bernard curiously approached. “Sister Teesti?”

“Ah, good knight, you’re back.” Teesti blinked, a bit surprised by her response. Her eyes quickly scanned the slashed hood.

“I caught the scent of Sister Fischer. We’ll tell everyone together later.”

Saint Bernard puffed out his chest, lowering his voice nervously. “But you, coming out like this is dangerous. There might be Demons nearby… Speaking of which, where is Miss Noli?”

In his view, the two nuns were inseparable, hardly ever apart.

“Noli’s a bit tired so she’s sleeping inside,” Teesti whispered. “I just wanted to look at the flowers. I won’t go far.”

“Oh…” Saint Bernard squatted beside Teesti, curiously sniffing the scent of the flowers. Then, he quickly turned his head, letting out a massive sneeze.

Such a strong scent! How do humans enjoy this? He couldn’t understand.

But Sister Teesti was looking so intently. There must be something special about it, Saint Bernard thought seriously. He continued to squat beside Teesti, looking at the flowers.

“Knight Saint Bernard.” Teesti breathed into her hands, producing a puff of white steam. “As knights, do you have special protection targets?”

Huh? Saint Bernard blinked, looking at Teesti in confusion.

“To you, are we, like Sister Fischer, important charges? So you would do everything to protect and help us.” Teesti mumbled to the flowers. “…Reminds me of someone I know, even though he’s not a knight.”

‘Girl, flowers, “him”. Got it!’ Knight Saint Bernard thought confidently. The village chief had taught him that this must be a topic of human love!

Sister Teesti must be troubled. He needed to respond seriously.

“We certainly have special protection targets!” Saint Bernard wagged his tail. “Compared to the guests of the Sheepskin Ball Village, parents, spouses, and children are definitely more important. The weight of responsibility is different.”

Teesti was still staring at the flowers. “How can you differentiate? To me, it looks like you’re almost stupidly… I mean, warm, towards everyone.”

“For example, if it’s Fischer you lost, you would search with all your might. If it’s a family member, you would still search with all your might. There’s no difference.”

‘Right, what a tough question.’ Saint Bernard’s tail slowly drooped.

“…It’s different.” He stammered. “We know in our hearts, it’s different.”

“I know I am special enough in his heart, and I know we won’t be separated. But it still feels wrong. It doesn’t feel right.”

Teesti propped up one cheek, and her voice became a bit muffled. “It’s a strange sense of emptiness. I don’t know what to fill it with. It really bothers me.”

The indestructible master-servant relationship, the most solid mental reliance, the unique imprint of memories… Nol’s love and desire.

He cast them into chains, made them into bridges, and did everything he could. Yet, there’s always one step between them. A polite step, a rational step.

An inexplicable sense of loss.

Teest detested this kind of loss. It unsettled him—he could see it right in front of him, always wanting to do something, yet having no idea what to do.

Hell, he was even talking about this with a beastman. He must be really crazy, Teest thought. But at least beastmen were a bit better than Painter, so let it be.

Saint Bernard stared blankly, completely not understanding what this human was talking about. What’s going on? Are human love topics this complicated?

“He could have been a bit more forceful with me. I’ve said, I allowed him to plunder me.”

Teesti sighed in frustration. “But he’s always like that, perfectly nice to everyone. If I didn’t know him better, I would suspect he’s of the same species as you.”

Saint Bernard: “……” For some reason, he felt that wasn’t a compliment.

“I don’t understand,” he said with a whimper. “Sorry, we never worry about these things—even-even though treating family members looks similar to treating guests, we just know it’s different.”

“I love my family, and I know my family loves me a lot.” He cautiously added, “I love my guests, but guests can have any attitude. We are prepared for that. We don’t care… It’s definitely not completely the same, right?”

Sister Teesti was silent.

Saint Bernard tensed up, fearing the fragile nun would start crying. But strangely, Teesti’s eyes didn’t even redden. She just remained silent for a long time.

“Yes.” After a long while, she spoke again. “I’ve changed my mind. You are much more useful than the old fox.”

Saint Bernard: “…Huh?”

What fox? He didn’t smell any fox.

While Knight Saint Bernard was still dazed, Teesti stood up, patting the skirt of her cotton robe.

“I want this bunch of blue roses,” she said cheerfully, pulling out a gold coin from her pocket.

She quickly got the bouquet. The nun hugged the flowers, freeing one hand to pat Saint Bernard’s head. Finally, she raised her index finger to her lips.

“Keep my love troubles a secret, okay, good knight?”

“Of course!” Saint Bernard immediately put his confusion aside, his tail wagging again. “Then I’ll go report to Sister Holly first.”

The moment Saint Bernard’s figure disappeared, Teesti’s “girlish expression” vanished without a trace. He held the bouquet high, covering most of his face with the blue flowers.

‘So that’s how it is.’ He thought he understood the source of that sense of loss—

Nol knew “the Mad Monk won’t give love”.

Nol was a smart and rational person, not blindly chasing after something non-existent. So there was that one step distance, stopping at the right point.

No matter how special he was or how sincere Nol’s feelings were, there would always be a step’s distance between them.

Because that was the “distance of a guest”.

Because they “do not love each other”.

Teest returned to the room with the bouquet, decorating it on Nol’s side of the bedhead.

Maybe he had vaguely realized this all along, Teest thought.

Even seeing this unsolvable situation clearly, even though his goal had long been achieved. For some reason, he still couldn’t accept that step… What should he do about it?

“Teest, look at this.”

Flames ignited. Nol stepped out of the void, holding a breastplate. “I succeeded.”

The unmanned glacier and Gratice were both blind spots for surveillance. From any perspective, this “temporary equipment modification” could be considered a complete success.

Teest sat on the edge of the bed, looked at Nol for two seconds, then stood up. “Breastplate?”

“I’ve merged the shield and armor together. This type of light armor is more convenient for movement and can also be hidden under clothes.” Nol excitedly displayed the “Seeker’s” attributes. “How about it? Do you like it?”

Teest weighed the strange armor in his hands. It was light and thin and looked pure white as snow, yet it flowed with the unique cold aura of corruption. With just a little power injected, it obediently adjusted its shape, as if it were a part of the body.

This was the armor Nol personally made for him—the most suitable armor for him.

In the past, he would have been ecstatic about such a wonderful acquisition and would have praised his adorable God on the spot. At this moment, however, Teest felt something was a bit…

“…Heavy,” he muttered silently.

“Hm?” Nol watched his reaction, curiously leaning in. “Do you not like this style, or is there something unreasonable about its appearance—”

“No, it’s perfect. I didn’t expect it to be so perfect.” Teest caressed the edge of the breastplate. “I was just thinking if I could make it even more perfect.”

Nol’s eyes lit up. “Then why not give it a try?”

Teest examined the armor inside and out, then took off his shirt on the spot, not even leaving his undershirt on.

The smooth, thin breastplate clung to Teest’s body contours, automatically adjusting its size. Its rounded edges touched the skin without causing any pain or discomfort. It lay quietly on his chest, as if it was an exoskeleton that had always existed.

Teest put his clothes back on. Just by looking at the shape of his body, it was completely invisible that he was wearing a breastplate.

“Not bad. Excellent concealment.”

Nol nodded satisfactorily with a flush on his face and a hint of excitement, obviously in a very good mood.

Teest touched the location of his chest. Even if a dragon tried to pierce him with its horn, it couldn’t penetrate this layer of defense. Once power filled the circuit, the armor became somewhat warm, like an embrace.

“Thank you, Nol,” he said with a smile. “I really like it.”

“Not ‘praise you’? Where’s your devotion?” Nol joked, his attention now drawn to the blue roses by the bed. “You can even buy flowers here, and they’re quite fresh.”

“Do you like them?”

“Of course! Are they for me?” Nol raised an eyebrow.

“Mm, but this isn’t enough for a return gift—your gift is really too great.” Teest, as usual, clung to Nol, wrapping his arms around the other’s neck. “I’ll try to find a proper way to respond.”

Nol shrugged, feeling the warm body behind him. “It’s not a transaction. There’s no need to be so precise.”

“Transaction? You think too highly of me.” Teest’s lips brushed against the skin on Nol’s neck. “I just want to live a bit more joyfully, you know.”

Nol shook his head with a smile. He was about to say something when he suddenly grabbed Teest’s arm. “Eugene and Marion’s presence.”

“The female knight from last time.” Teest recalled for two seconds.

“They’re coming this way.” Nol nodded, speaking solemnly. “Let’s go and meet up with Painter first.”

……

The two False Gods were still a step too late.

When they entered Painter’s room, there were already three figures seated as guests—Knight Saint Bernard was seriously eating pastries, Knight Eugene had a smile on, and there was a girl dressed as a commoner.

Nol remembered the girl’s face. It was indeed Marion, the knight they had encountered during The Manor incident, one of Eugene’s right-hand men.

Knowing Mr. Eugene was the Chosen One of Anstis, Nol found it a bit difficult to look directly at this zealot.

Speaking of which, wasn’t Eugene very troubled by their “insistence on participating in the investigation”? Why had he suddenly become so proactive and even specifically sought them out?

“Who is this sister?” Sister Teesti leaned on Noli’s arm, curiously asking.

“Just call me Marion. I was taught by Sister Holly when I was still an Evergreen Sister.” Knight Marion smiled at the two “adorable juniors”.

Nol managed to smile back as naturally as possible.

Damn it, a familiar face has arrived!

His gaze shifted to Painter, who was calmly drinking tea—Eugene was obviously suspicious of them. A school nun and an Evergreen Sister in her charge that had lived and eaten together for years—who knew how many “stories impossible for outsiders to know” among them.

Even with Painter’s excellent acting skills, it was impossible to fake these kinds of details. Continuing this conversation, this guy was definitely going to slip up. Now they were just short of dealing with the Oracle Sacrifice, were they going to clash with the Temple at this juncture?

…What to do?

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The author has something to say:

Teest’s sweet and sour love troubles, only Saint Bernard’s world is wounded (not really

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Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 140: New Work

Ice Rock City Inn, the double room of Sister Noli and Teesti.

Teest decisively combined two single beds into a double bed, then sprawled across the center of the bed, pretending to be a human-shaped tape that stuck the two beds together.

In front of him, the communication crystal flickered non-stop.

“It was my lack of consideration. I didn’t report all the information.” On the other side of the communication crystal, Fischer said cautiously, “Demons are hard to kill. I thought… cough cough.”

He thought they had thoroughly interrogated Crimson. After all, they never asked Fischer related questions. By the desk, Nol helplessly patted his face.

“Stop beating around the bush. Get to the point,” Teest said impatiently.

“Regarding you, the Pope indeed issued two oracles—” Fischer hurriedly tightened his tone. It was evident he was sitting very upright.

“The diamond hidden in the vineyard, the gold buried under the snow. God smiles upon the favored lineage, and he has witnessed this smile for seven years. The world should be careful. He will bring endless destruction and chaos.”

“Following the river of fate, returning to the land of ashes. Walking through the chaotic times and corpses of Demons—the darkness in his soul remains. His hands can slay everything, and he will follow the God of his choice.”

High Priest Fischer said word by word, afraid the two on the other side couldn’t hear clearly.

“What is this?” Teest directly interrupted the communication, flopping down. “I thought there would be more exciting content, but it’s all things already known. That old fox is really good at making things mysterious.”

Nol casually wrote down the two oracles, the tip of his pen dotting on the parchment.

Now it seemed, the oracles were more straightforward than he thought. The first oracle seemed nonsensical, but actually provided many key points—

The Chosen One was in Grape Collar and nearby areas, with ancient lineage, aged seven.

The diamond and gold not only hinted at the Flama family, who were in the jewelry business, but also represented Teest’s hair and eye color. As long as Teest was confirmed as the “inauspicious White Demon”, “endless chaos and destruction” could also be explained.

The Chosen One captured by the Eternal Church would definitely be transformed into a Supplement Demon. Not dying from the potion transformation—it basically confirmed they caught the right person.

Teest’s second oracle was even more direct.

It explicitly indicated Teest’s time travel, returning to the burnt-down church in Grape Collar, participating in killing Demons. Afterward, Teest received the “King of Eternal Sleep”, following him, the God of Creation, which also matched the content of the oracle.

No wonder Painter was interested in the ending of the oracle.

As it stood, regardless of where the oracle came from, it was destined to be fulfilled in some way.

The pen tip ignited a blue fire, and the parchment with Teest’s oracle was burned to ashes by Nol.

Thank heavens, Teest’s oracle didn’t mention anything bad. At least not like the deceased Priest Bonds, who carried the bad ending of “dying under God’s gaze”.

As for “bringing endless chaos and destruction”…

Nol couldn’t help but turn his face. Teest switched to lying on his back, limbs spread out. He instantly noticed Nol’s gaze, conveniently lifted his face, wearing his signature innocent smile.

…Forget it. He would take good care of his knight.

…He didn’t want to hold hostility towards Teest over such vague stuff.

Nol’s mind hadn’t finished turning, yet his body had already leaned forward, kissing Teest’s forehead. The latter stretched his body lazily towards Nol, swapping the position of his forehead for his lips.

Mr. Demon King intended to stop at a light taste, but then the back of his head was firmly held by two hands, his breath tinged with the scent of honey apple juice.

Nol simply closed his eyes, focusing on enjoying the kiss. With deep kisses and light pants, Nol’s body leaned lower and lower. The homemade necklace slid out from the collar, and the wedding ring clinked against the key and the tri-colored bead, making a jingling sound.

The sweet and intense kiss suddenly stopped. Nol opened his eyes in confusion. For a moment, he thought his gaze was reflected back by those golden eyes—somehow, Teest looked equally puzzled.

Maybe it was the Mad Monk’s fickleness again. Nol took the opportunity to sit up, wiping his slightly swollen lips.

Nol: “We…”

“I just remembered, there’s something I haven’t finished saying to Fischer Reginald,” Teest suddenly said. “We need to finalize the action plan first. I don’t want to be distracted by this.”

As soon as the words fell, he activated the communication crystal again, as if fleeing from something.

The communication crystal hadn’t lit up for the second time before Fischer immediately connected. “Yes, My Lord. Do you have new instructions?”

Nol: “……”

No wonder gods like zealots. They are too useful.

“We’re going to infiltrate the Oracle Sacrifice. You arrange it,” Teest ordered bluntly.

Fischer hesitated several times. “My Lord, I indeed obtained the qualification to assist in the sacrifice. But, if I may be so bold, even if you are interested in the Oracle Sacrifice, I wouldn’t recommend both of you getting involved.”

“What do you mean?” Nol lay down beside Teest, curiously interjecting.

“Before every winter solstice, the Pope needs to depart from Ice Rock City, heading to the altar in the Claw Scar Mountains,” Fischer patiently explained. “Usually we would take the route from Gratice—Isle of Wails—Claw Scar Mountains, but this time…”

Nol spread out the map, and their heads came together.

The Kingdom of Alka was a huge island nation, located to the east of Gratice and Shiva. Separated from the continent by the Tears Strait, the Isle of Wails was in the middle of this strait, nominally belonging to Alka.

Normally, the Church would take a boat down the Tears Strait, picking up sacrifices at the Isle of Wails on the way, and taking the sea route to reach the Claw Scar Mountains near Old Gemino.

The Temple had been strictly monitoring the Kingdom of Alka recently… Thinking about it now, it was hard to say whether they were fully searching for the “Hero Team” or intentionally interfering with the Eternal Church’s Oracle Sacrifice.

“…This time we need to head south along the land route from Gratice—Shiva—Old Gemino’s coastal border.” Fischer continued, “This journey will be very tough. And even though I can assist in the sacrifice, I don’t have the qualifications to follow the Pope deep into the altar. He will definitely go alone. There’s no room for operation—unless he voluntarily abdicates, willing to teach the process to a new Pope.”

‘Indeed troublesome,’ Nol thought.

Zealots weren’t ordinary people, so they were difficult to coerce. This Pope was an old monster, so who knows what tricks he had up his sleeve. Moreover, the oracle concerned the secrets of the two gods, and there might be dangerous mechanisms…

“That means, there’s no rigid rule that ‘only one person can enter’ the altar,” Teest said.

“Uh, that’s correct…”

“Then it’s simple. We’ll follow the team.” Teest fiddled with the communication crystal. “You find an opportunity to swap identities with me—before the Pope acts alone, I’ll just kill him.”

Nol: “…?”

Fischer: “…?!”

“If I take him down, if successful, he can slip away with Fischer. If he really dies, I can control him for a while, letting him lead us into the altar.”

Teest shook his finger; his tone was so calm that it was chilling. “See, how simple that is.”

Fischer: “You…”

The Eternal Pope had lived too long. He never thought someone could kill this old bag. Teest’s words, indeed, could be realized. But, if the Pope suddenly disappeared, what would happen to this ancient and massive Church?

“Please reconsider. The Eternal Church will definitely lose control… and those Demons…” Fischer murmured.

“So what?” Teest replied without hesitation. He continued to play with the communication crystal, watching it roll around. “Do I look like I care about order?”

The round communication crystal rolled on the bed, held down by two pale fingers—Nol, with mixed feelings, picked it up and gently placed it back in front of Teest.

On the other side of the crystal, Fischer was completely silent. Nol could guess what he was thinking.

…The world should be careful. He will bring endless destruction and chaos.

Teest was smart. He surely knew the kind of chaos storm assassinating the Eternal Pope would bring in this tense situation. But he didn’t care—the Mad Monk never cared about these things.

Before, Nol always felt that Teest’s behavior was a bit odd. Today, he finally understood the subtleties.

The Mad Monk he first met would complain softly about his own pain, hiding the chaos in his heart. Now, Teest would secretly hide his wounds in front of him but no longer deliberately conceal his true nature.

A slight sting came from one side of his cheek. Nol turned his head, meeting Teest’s gaze.

From this angle, the hanging golden hair blocked most of Teest’s face. His golden eyes peered through the strands of hair, looking straight at Nol without blinking.

It wasn’t probing, just curiosity.

…His mad yet gentle knight.

Nol felt an urge to laugh. Teest, Painter, Eugene, Fischer… Apart from the neighbors, it seemed like everyone gathered around him was mad, each in their own flamboyant way.

Following the principle of “birds of a feather flock together”, maybe he himself was the biggest lunatic.

Nol let out a long sigh. “This plan has no major issues in its overall direction.”

Fischer: “You also—”

“But.” Nol cleared his throat. “I have two objections.”

Beside him, Teest tilted his head, his eyes widening slightly.

“First, I don’t want the Demons to get out of control, nor do I want trouble for the Eternal Church.”

Nol’s brain worked at full speed, crafting the next “plot”. “After everything is over, let the Pope announce ‘abdication in accordance with the oracle’. Fischer Reginald, you will be appointed as the next Pope.”

Fischer: “Ah?”

Isn’t this person taking the crafting of oracles too comfortably?

The position of Pope, which he had yearned for for decades, was now set as if it were a joke?

“Once you’re in position, use the name of the oracle to reign in the actions of the Eternal Church—stop all human sacrifices, creating Supplement Demons, and so on. Don’t worry, the Eternal Son won’t bother about such trivial matters.”

The heavyweight Chosen One was snatched by mortals, yet Lord Anstis didn’t make a peep, let alone for a matter like this?

“As for the Demons, I will give them some harmless tasks to distract them,” Nol said, tapping his fingertips randomly on the blanket.

The Eternal Church had no way to restrain Demon Players, but Nol knew very well.

Those people sought power and also money. He could, through Fischer’s mouth, give them some treasure reward-focused, tough side missions to divert their attention from “slaughter leveling”.

“This…” Fischer swallowed. “To stop those things, we need an excuse.”

“The Demon King has been reborn, so thus the cycle of fate. The battle of the two gods is in the distant future, and God will return to His throne.”

Nol improvised an oracle on the spot. “…In short, under the guise of paralyzing the Temple, let them lie low and wait for the return of God.”

Fischer: “…Okay.”

You’re really enthusiastic about crafting oracles.

Half of his brain screamed, “This guy is too blasphemous,” while the other half screamed, “Worthy of whom my God follows.” Mr. Fischer’s head was filled with screams, but he could only voice his agreement.

Teest propped up one cheek, a smile appearing in his eyes. “I really like the way you manipulate the world… Alright, the first issue is successfully resolved! What about your second objection?”

Nol sighed, hanging up the communication. “My second objection is your safety.”

“Painter was Pope for only a few years. The Eternal Pope has been in position for over a hundred years. The Goddess of Life doesn’t care about Painter, but that doesn’t mean the Eternal Son doesn’t care about the old Pope. The assassination of the Pope, I will do it with you.”

Teest blinked, nodding after a few seconds.

“Also, hand over your weapons and armor.” Nol poked Teest’s shoulder. “I’ll see if there’s anything that can be improved.”

With multiple clanging sounds, the weapon “Betrayer”, shield “Curiosity”, and armor “Knight’s Will” were instantly piled up, neatly appearing in front of Nol.

Nol carefully wrapped them up. He took out Kando, directly connecting to the uninhabited glacier in the Cold Sea.

“I’ll be back before dawn,” he said.

The blue fire extinguished. Teest rolled on the bed. He lay at the intersection of the two beds, extending his right hand, palm towards the dim ceiling.

‘Something’s off,’ he thought.

Facing this entirely new field of “emotions”, Teest thought hard and finally came to the conclusion—

Nol stopped.

Nol always liked to consider a lot, from the future of the world to the safety of his kind to their relationship. Nol knew him too well, so he stopped a few steps away.

A safe and sweet distance, the most stable distance. Whether for the soft-hearted God of Creation or the loveless Mad Monk, this was the best choice.

Normally, the Mad Monk would indeed like this kind of stable balance.

But Teest didn’t like it.

Teest extended his left hand again. He raised both hands and reached towards the void, slowly tightening them.

“This won’t do,” he muttered, frowning in distress. “…Need to be closer.”

……

Above the uninhabited glacier.

“Why don’t you return to Paradise? It’s freezing here!” With no one around, Kando finally opened its eyes.

“I don’t want to give the Temple any clues.”

Nol exhaled a white breath—Teest’s knight trio set was spread out on the crystalline snow. Nol couldn’t help but stretch out his hand, gently tracing the outline of the armor.

“Alright, alright.” Kando grumbled. “Haa, I still prefer warmer places… What are you doing with that guy’s armor?”

“Modify it,” Nol said. “Their performance can’t keep up with Teest’s abilities. It’s inconvenient for him.”

He previously had no authority to significantly alter system items, but now with [Creator], he could try some experiments.

Kando: “Hey—he still needs protection? You two are almost as tough as dragon-hide monsters!”

Nol ignored Kando’s teasing. “It’s always good to have a backup plan.”

“That’s true.” Kando gave him a sideways glance. “Don’t say it. You two are progressing faster than I thought.”

Nol gave him a look as he took out a feather pen. He dipped the pen tip in his own blood, and with the magical glow, wrote rows of dense characters on the surface of the weapon.

As he expected, bottomless cheating mods won’t work. To strengthen the weapons, stronger materials had to be mixed in, like the blood of a False God.

The modification of the “Betrayer” went smoothly.

Considering Teest’s attack mode, Nol planned to enhance the “death”-related attributes, perfectly matching the profession. In less than an hour, the “Betrayer’s” attributes were transformed.

[Betrayer: This weapon can switch between two custom forms. Attributes grow with the owner’s level; the weapon has necromantic traits, +30% damage to living beings; when the level difference with the enemy is ≥ 10, the weapon can ignore [level difference] % of the enemy’s defense (up to 100%).

※This weapon can only be used by Teest.]

The last level difference reduction in defense took half of Nol’s blood to successfully add. Although he didn’t think the old Pope’s level would be higher than False God Teest… But, there was always a chance, right?

After strengthening, the “Betrayer” still looked battered and worn, but its color had faded a bit, like a layer of gray-white filter was added to it.

Following that, Nol hit a wall with the shield “Curiosity” and the armor “Knight’s Will.”

Modifying these two items felt awful in his hands. No matter how hard he tried, the outcomes were… excessively random. His ideal creations always ended in failure, then failure again.

Could it be that Teest’s soul is so uniquely dark that his belongings can only be enhanced with malicious attributes?

But both the armor and shield were meant for “protection”, so they could only be imbued with positive buffs. Taking a step back, “Curiosity” was made by Teest himself. It shouldn’t be this stubborn!

Soon, [Creator] had drained all of Nol’s mana. He sat down on the glacier, gasping for breath in frustration.

On the snow, “Knight’s Will” displayed a steely gray, silently narrating its refusal. “Curiosity” was slanted in the snow, looking exactly like a rough pot lid.

Infuriated to death, Nol pulled out “Curiosity”. He suddenly noticed that the feel of this shield was off—it had become much more fragile than when it was first made.

The core of this shield was made from bone material from the “Demon King’s Minions”. The corruption power within it vanished along with the Demon King, leaving empty magic circuits.

…But, it seemed like Teest could use the power of corruption?

Nol stroked his chin, decisively breaking down “Curiosity” into ancient silver and bone material—since Teest rarely used the shield, and “Knight’s Will” was also made of light ancient silver armor, it might as well be mixed together.

He mixed the remaining bone material with blood, blending it into the molten ancient silver, then he drew circuits of corruption power in the light armor. Although Nol couldn’t activate it, a mere replica was still doable.

This time, his approach was correct.

With meticulous drawing, the light armor gradually contracted and writhed, transforming into a new form.

It turned into a portable breastplate, made of bone-like silver, shimmering with the white of fresh snow. It lost the form of full-body armor, but its attributes were very pleasing, enough to protect Teest’s vital heart.

Teest, who loves light and convenient items, would definitely like it.

After a flash, the system named this new piece of armor.

[Seeker: God’s sole knight. You chase the truth, and the truth chases you.

※Jointly produced by Teest & Nol.]

Perfect.

In the gradually deepening night, Nol breathed a sigh of relief—if it hadn’t been successful, he would have had to restore the shield back to its original form.

The white breastplate shone in the shadows.

There was a strangely familiar feeling. It seemed like he had seen this item before, more than once.

…It must be an illusion.

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The author has something to say:

Below, I’ve organized the oracles of the four Chosen Ones, not mentioning the already deceased Priest Bonds—

Teest: The world should be careful. He will bring endless destruction and chaos. His hands can slay everything, and he will follow the God of his choice.

Eugene: With a heart full of zeal, he will ascend the highest place and behead the False God with the sword of faith.

Fischer: He follows the Deepest Darkness and will witness the most glorious Eternity.

Former Pope of the Temple of Life, Painter: [Not disclosed]

The above is the core of the oracles (that is, the most valuable part of the prophecies); the complete oracles also have some clues pointing to identities. Please refer to Teest’s complete oracle (lol).

Since these characters are all confirmed, I won’t repeat parts related to “confirming identities”, only writing the core.

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