It felt as if flames were burning somewhere out of sight.
Across the entire Eastern Parish, the undercurrents previously hidden from view seemed to slowly come to a boil, bubbling and gurgling. Faint, fragmented murmurs reached everyone's ears—barely perceptible at first, but gradually impossible to ignore.
Whispered rumors circulating within sanctuaries, secluded mutual aid societies, peers who had once been mediocre or teetered on the brink of peril only to suddenly rise above everyone else with peerless devotion, cryptic smiles upon the priests' faces, covert transactions in back alleys, and even legendary commodities on the black market that boasted exorbitant prices but no available stock...
Incoherent slips of the tongue blurted out in drunken stupor, smug smiles or sneers, and quiet tips and shares between close friends and relatives.
At first, they were mere rumors, yet those rumors seemed to grow clearer and clearer by the day.
Until, through chance or active searching, the final wisp of mist parted, allowing them at last to touch the miraculous power spreading ever wider.
"Have you heard? Good stuff."
"Sacred seals? Aren't sacred seals everywhere? You want some? I'll give you a couple... They're different? How so..."
"I heard it from the Hierophant! It's good stuff recently developed up in Tiancheng. As long as you wear it, you can..."
"Is this that sacred seal?"
"You've got it wrong. What I heard was that young, staunch believer whose devotion plummeted for years and had both his eyes gouged out... Yeah, guess what? The sacred seal he carried all along actually harbored a wisp of the Holy Spirit's consciousness! After soaking up his offerings for years, it's finally awakened. Otherwise, how could he have rejoined the choir overnight?"
"Bullshit! That's heresy and crooked ways! I—I will never use it."
"Just this? It looks no different from any other sacred seal."
"Put it on and you'll see!"
"This is way too expensive, no way... Wait, let me think... Fine, give me... give me... give me two—no, three of them!"
"No rush, let's see which way the wind blows first."
"How can it be this expensive?! Before, it was only..."
"Supplies are limited! It won't be this price tomorrow!"
"Hey, have you heard? Over at the Great Sanctuary of Sacrifice, they've already started handing them out! That's right, hurry over, come on! Veteran believers who've joined the prayer meetings can even get them for free!"
In just a few days, the previously imperceptible breeze had blown out of the shadows across the entire Eastern Parish, growing more furious by the hour.
No matter how steadfast one had been in the beginning, once the rat race began, bottom lines were breached one after another.
Especially with the rise of sunk costs, the advancement of peers, the destabilization of their own status, and the intoxicating allure of surging faith... people gradually overheated with frenzy.
What had begun as a leisurely stroll after dinner transformed into an all-out marathon sprint.
Besides, everyone else was using it, so why shouldn't they?
The believers reasoned: the Hierophant handed this to me personally, so how could it be fake? The Hierophants reasoned: since everyone else dares to use it, surely there can't be any issue, right?
Besides, I'm using less than they are, so even if trouble strikes, it won't land on my head! Maybe there's a risk—sure, you're right—but why not enjoy the ride before the bubble bursts?
Engulfed in fanaticism, clinging to luck, or having prepared from the start to push others into Limbo, everyone eagerly threw themselves into this banquet of madness.
To vie for an advantage, some Hierophants even had their trusted confidants secretly distribute this mysterious gift to worshippers visiting their sanctuaries.
They even provided tips: if you feel your prayers aren't fast enough, just wear a few more!
Pray, child, pray!
Pray by day, pray by night, pray every single day! You pray, I pray, let us pray together!
Within prayer lies a maiden fair; within prayer lies a house of gold! The harder you pray, the closer the Kingdom of Heaven; the harder you pray, the richer the divine grace!
Starting today, become a full-time pray-er—pray across the Great Continent, pray shatter the vaulted skies!
Look! The sacred day is at hand, beloved servitude is nigh!
Just pray, only pray. Prayer is the one and only truth in this world. Prayer is the most precious offering a believer can render to God.
Prayer...
is the sole purpose and worth of cattle and sheep like you!
Amidst this fanatic joy, the entire Eastern Parish became soaked in fervor. Twenty-four hours a day, the sound of prayer never ceased.
Prostrate believers carpeted the earth; hymns of praise cloaked the skies.
Starlike points of light rose from above the sanctuaries, drifting between heaven and earth, coalescing into an increasingly torrential current that flowed toward Tiancheng...
And on the streets, before a sanctuary, an old man vomiting blood knelt upon the ground, crawling with great difficulty toward the doors. Prayers and praises never stopped tumbling from his mouth, and the sacred seals around his neck gleamed brightly.
Everyone passing by halted involuntarily, staring in shock, cheering him on with admiration and shouting in praise of this pious faith and ascetic devotion.
Until, with a smile of bliss, the final remnant of the old man's self burned away completely before the gates. His face dissolved, reducing him to an empty husk.
At once, the crowd swarmed forward in ecstatic admiration, encircling him and reaching out to touch this venerable sacrifice, to share in the divine grace, and even fighting over the clothes on the old man's body.
"Are they out of their minds?"
In the distance, Yan Fei's face twitched once, then again. He had an overwhelming urge to go on a slaughter, yet he could not fathom the culprits behind this ignorant frenzy.
"Don't... don't they care about the consequences at all?"
"Consequences? What consequences would there be?"
Ji Jue countered indifferently. "Since ancient times, believers have been nothing more than draft beasts, while priests are the shepherds. Does a shepherd mourn the sheep sent off to slaughter?
"Even when livestock are butchered and hacked to pieces on an invisible assembly line, as blood splatters everywhere, people only marvel at how succulent and tender this year's beef is, wouldn't you say?"
Yan Fei stood dumbfounded for a long while, his voice trembling slightly. "Th-then what about the sacred seals..."
"A sacred seal is just a sacred seal. How could there possibly be anything wrong with it? *I had no idea, I knew nothing, it was all done by my subordinates behind my back! I only did it for the good of the Order! I was winning faith for the Holy God, what could I possibly have done wrong?!*"
In a single second, Ji Jue rattled off a hundred thousand cookie-cutter excuses. "Besides, everyone's using them. As long as I use a little less, won't I be fine?
"Even if something goes wrong, it's not like they can kill everyone, right?
"In fact... there are even people who can't wait for everyone to get slaughtered."
When a tidal wave strikes, fools scramble to dive into the water, stoking the surges and drifting with the current toward chaos. Heroes and champions sacrifice themselves, standing before the deluge and the fury of the foolish, striving to turn the tide, or ending up as stepping stones mocked and trampled underfoot.
The instigators decisively pull out after reaping maximum profit, while the so-called 'clever people' have already plotted how to channel the flood, deciding which hell it should drown...
"Look at them. Everyone is reveling, lost in their bliss. Who among them would be so tone-deaf as to step forward and ruin the mood? No matter how farsighted someone might be, aside from pursuing profit, the best they can do is look out for themselves."
Ji Jue narrowed his eyes, gazing toward the highest point of Central City—the Great Sanctuary of Sacrifice—and grinned silently. "Meanwhile, the person truly responsible for all of this...
"Heh, he's still grinning from ear to ear."
Everyone had pitched in to add fuel to the fire, fanning the flames into a raging inferno. And atop the preheated pyre, the archbishop, perched at the pinnacle, was still admiring this spectacle of piety and fervor, elated beyond measure.
Yet while he feigned ignorance, scheming how to leverage this miraculous surge to climb higher—to enter the Privy Council and wash his hands of the mess—a letter of denunciation from the Eastern Parish had already landed upon the desk of the Privy Council in Tiancheng.
"...Sacred seals?"
The Pope on duty stared at the report before him, his brows slowly furrowing. "Outrageous! Utterly outrageous! If the subordinate Hierophants are ignorant, is he, an archbishop, ignorant as well?!
"Presumptuously second-guessing divine will, coveting divine grace—he has lost his mind!"
"A reprimand or a warning?"
The secretary picked up a pen with understanding, gauging the Saint's expression as he prepared to draft the document. "Or perhaps dismissal and exile?"
"..."
The Pope lowered his eyes in silence. In the quiet, staring at the records in the report detailing the existence of these bizarre sacred seals, his expression grew increasingly grim. "No. The matters underlying these sacred seals are of grave significance... Issue an order: Saint Yidela's inspection tour of the south is to be suspended immediately. He is to proceed to Central City in the Eastern Parish and take full charge of all matters involved.
"Furthermore—"
He paused, a glint of blood surfacing in his dark eyes. "Tell Yidela: cut the weeds and dig out the roots, eradicate evil utterly! Heretical practices must never be permitted to poison the Divine Kingdom!"
The secretary's hand trembled, causing an ink blot to bloom across the order sheet—just like the blood that was soon to flow across the east...
meandering without end.
It didn't even take a month. In a mere ten-odd days, the miraculous sacred seals had spread across the entire Eastern Parish—no, not just the Eastern Parish.
Carried by countless traveling pilgrims and further fueled by the pushes from the resistance camps, they had already spread across all four parishes, like flames burning beneath paper, impossible to contain.
There was no need to wait for the end-of-month tally.
No need at all.
In just these dozen or so days, the increase in faith across the entire Eastern Parish had already doubled compared to past records, and it was still climbing, fiercer by the day!
And amidst the resounding hymns overflowing with joy and adoration, thunder suddenly cracked across the skies of Central City. When countless believers raised their heads in utter disbelief, they beheld a spectacle of legend.
A colossal gateway opened wide in the sky.
Behind gorgeous, majestic reliefs, the magnificent projection of Tiancheng was cast, blotting out the sun and sky. Escorted by rows of angels, under the illumination of glorious light, a dazzling chariot drawn by pegasi descended slowly from the heavens!
"A Saint! It's a Saint!!!"
"The Saint has descended!!!"
Countless believers wept tears of joy, falling to their knees in prayer and cheering wildly.
Indeed, their prayers had moved the Holy God! In their lifetime, they were actually able to witness the Holy God bestow such a magnificent miracle. In an instant, the chorus of prayers surged to a new crescendo.
Yet the dazzling chariot swept coldly across the sky, descending straight toward the Great Sanctuary of Sacrifice.
Soon, amid the hurried and nervous tolling of bells, all the high-ranking figures of the Order gathered in haste—some startled, some delighted, some fearful, some suspicious. It had happened too fast, too abruptly, without any prior notice whatsoever!
When the archbishop knelt to welcome the arrival, he had not even had time to properly fasten his vestments.
Yet the Saint, normally so genial, merely walked past him with utter indifference, without lingering for even a split second, causing the archbishop's heart to sink straight to the abyss.
With a vanguard of angels filing in to take over the sanctuary's security, the grand doors swung wide. Saint Yidela strode in, entering the Hall of Pilgrimage, and took the head seat without hesitation.
"Who else hasn't arrived?" Yidela asked suddenly, casting a glance over the half-empty conference hall.
In the dead silence, everyone exchanged uneasy glances. Someone summoned the courage, wiping cold sweat from his brow. "Two of our peers... Due to the suddenness of the summons and the great distance, they couldn't—"
"Neglecting sacred affairs is an unforgivable offense," Yidela said. "Cast them into Limbo."
An angel knelt to receive the order, turned, and departed. Outside the window, a brilliant light soared into the sky. Before long, it returned, raised its hand, and hurled two severed heads onto the floor, still screaming in terror and begging for mercy.
Amidst the oppressive atmosphere, aside from their agonizing wails, not another person dared utter a sound.
The Saint merely flicked his sleeve, tossing a letter of denunciation onto the table.
"Speak," Yidela looked down coldly. "What is going on here?"
Struck as if by lightning, drenched in cold sweat, the archbishop trembled, trying to rise, but his legs gave way. Kneeling on the floor, he wailed, "It was all the subordinates acting on their own authority! I—I truly knew nothing! Saint, have mercy! Saint—"
Before his words had even finished echoing, someone slammed the table and sprang to his feet.
It was none other than one of the seated Hierophants.
Pointing an accusing finger at the archbishop, he bellowed, "—I wish to denounce the archbishop! He harbors heresy, profanes the sacred, and defiles the Order! His crimes warrant nothing less than death!"
His righteous fury rang out loud and clear, each word like cold iron meant to nail the archbishop firmly to the pillar of shame.
Regrettably, he was not the only one eager to drive the nails.
Nor was he the only one who had suddenly slammed the table, jumped up, and pointed at the archbishop...
In fact, some were a step too slow, only rising after the first man was halfway through his accusation. After a moment of dumbfounded shock, their gears spun instinctively, and they shouted at the top of their lungs:
"Me—me too!"
"Same here!"
"And me!"
For a moment, faces that had come prepared flushed crimson as they stammered incoherently, their eyes locked on one another in utter shock and stupefaction.
Why on earth had matchmaking suddenly paired them up into a pre-made team?
Wait, no—I fucking queued solo! I didn't queue for a five-stack!
Well, true enough, it wasn't a five-stack.
Because the letters of denunciation tossed onto the table by the Saint numbered a full eight!
A thick stack of denunciations now fanned out across the tabletop, the names of every single person standing clearly written upon the envelopes.
In this sudden awkwardness and dead silence, the moment realization dawned upon everyone who had leaped up, an icy chill gripped them from head to toe!
*We're screwed!*
Chapter 512