Chapter 5: Testing the Waters
Komer also realized that the other party seemed to have seen through his intentions, but he didn’t care. With the Church of Light establishing a foothold in the Caucasus, it was only natural to arouse the suspicions of the Great Secret Cult. Perhaps this confrontation was exactly what Komer wanted to see. “Archmage Xuro, the people at the eastern foothills of the Baden Golden Mountain Range have discovered two evil dragons lurking near a mine, severely disrupting their normal lives. I think if you could find a way to drive these two evil dragons away from this area, it would surely leave a good impression on the Great Secret Cult. This might even help their development in this region.”
“Evil dragons? The Baden Golden Mountain Range? As far as Xuro knows, that doesn’t seem to be the domain of the Dark Lord. It should be within the territory of the barbarians, right? Could it be that the barbarians have already submitted to the Caucasus?” Frowning slightly, his pale face appeared even more sickly at this moment.
“No, Mr. Xuro. Doing good knows no boundaries. Should the Great Secret Cult have to consider race and region when doing a good deed?” Komer retorted.
“Oh, Xuro didn’t mean that. The God of Darkness cares equally for the people of any race on the continent. Just as light can shine anywhere, darkness also reaches every corner. Everyone has the right to enjoy the blessings of the God of Darkness.” A faint smile appeared on the pale face of the man in black. “However, those abandoned by the gods are excluded.”
“Abandoned by the gods?” Komer was stunned and hadn’t processed this yet.
“How can those who don’t even have a deity to believe in receive the favor and care of the gods? These barbarians lack the foundation of civilization and even the most basic beliefs. The appearance of those evil dragons is merely a small punishment for their lack of faith in gods. For years, they have been trapped in the Cordillera Wasteland, unable to move forward, yet they refused to repent, resulting in their current miserable situation. Isn’t that divine punishment?” The man in black, who claimed to be a loyal follower of the God of Darkness, raised his dark eyes with a cold expression.
Only then did Komer realize that the barbarians did not worship the traditional gods of the continent. They worshipped nature itself and opposed idolatry. Among their people, it was the shamans who handled faith and rituals. These shamans were said to have the ability to communicate with nature, capable not only of healing illnesses but also predicting the future through special methods. However, they never interfered in the tribal administration. It was precisely because of this that the barbarians found it difficult to coexist peacefully with other races on the continent that had a tradition of worshipping gods. And this was exactly what Xuro had meant earlier.
“Hehe, Mr. Xuro, your view might make some sense. But if the Great Secret Sect could, through its own actions, overturn the barbarians’ tradition of not believing in gods, wouldn’t that be an event that shakes the heavens and moves even the spirits? Have you considered the impact this would have on all those who believe in gods across the continent, Mr. Xuro?” Komer didn’t give up and countered forcefully.
Seemed somewhat persuaded by his words, the man in black fell silent for a long time. In fact, Xuro was pondering the motives behind such eagerness to push this through. He also understood the barbarians’ nature well—mere superficial efforts would hardly make them yield. Xuro certainly didn’t want the Great Secret Sect to get involved in this senseless “heroic” quest to slay demons and eradicate evil. Yet the man now destined to be the secret ruler of the sect was so persistent that Xuro had to consider his options carefully.
“Secret ruler, since you value our Great Secret Sect so much, I have nothing left to say. I can convey your opinion back to our sect’s temple, where the Holy Pope and the otherenvoys envoys can discuss this matter. After all, the evil dragons are not weak foes; to defeat them, thorough preparation is needed. But I also ask you to seriously consider my advice. If this is merely a way to perfunctorily deal with us or exploit us, it would go against our original intentions.” The man in black’s expression became extremely solemn.
“Please rest assured, Mr. Xuro. I will consider it. If the Great Secret Sect is truly as wonderful as you describe, even if I weren’t this so-called secret ruler, I might come to believe in it wholeheartedly. I truly hope such a day will come.” Komer felt pleased—he had finally convinced this guy and could also take the opportunity to see the true strength of the Great Secret Sect, which dared to rival the Church of Light.
As the bell tower beside St. Mark’s Church rang loudly, its clear chimes spread across the Virgin Square like lingering ripples. The clear sky and brilliant sunlight cast a golden glow on the square. Pigeons around the fountain took off, flying high above the square, casting shadows below. Almost all the believers in the square instinctively turned their heads toward the church’s dome, silently reciting prayers of repentance, hoping that the God of Light would forgive all original sins in the world and bless humanity.
The magnificent and exquisite St. Mark’s Basilica, one of the most important religious sites on the continent, is undoubtedly the foremost building of the Catholic Church. The three-nave basilica in front of the main building extends it several dozen meters forward, somewhat diminishing its grandeur and making it appear more approachable. Yet to see the full view of the basilica, especially its spectacular dome, one must go to the center of St. Mark’s Square in front of it.
The 25-meter-tall obelisk has essentially become a landmark, with magnificent fountains located at each of its four sides. The lines connecting these fountains and the obelisk form the long and short axes of St. Mark’s Square, around which the oval-shaped square is arranged. Extending outward along its curved colonnades, it becomes the greatest open-air square on the continent. The square’s long axis is 198 meters long, while the curved colonnades are 17 meters wide. Four rows of Doric columns stand tall—over 284 in total—along with 88 majestic pilasters. The parapets are adorned with 96 statues of saints and martyrs. The columns are thick and dense, forming layers like a forest, with dramatic changes in light and shadow. Baroque artistic concepts blend here with a strict and concise layout, creating a wonderful mixture. Corridors connect the colonnades to the cathedral on both sides, forming a trapezoidal square. The square has a noticeable slope, allowing the Pope to bless the faithful from the steps in front of the cathedral, and the faithful in the square can see him clearly.
No wonder such a grand yet delicate architectural marvel exhausted the talents and passion of Bernini, the most famous architect of his time. After designing this building, he is said to have said only one sentence, “Divine inspiration, once lost, is never regained.” From then on, he never produced another notable work.
Entering through the corridor beside the cathedral and turning left, a spacious hall with a crystal-like surface comes into view.
The wheelchair creaks as it moves forward. If someone unaware of the situation were to see this, they would be stunned by the scene. Without any assistance, the wheelchair slides slowly forward, like a ghostly carriage from legend, with its wheels moving at a steady pace with a monotonous creaking sound. The figure seated in the wheelchair, barely resembling a dwarf, is so strange that it’s hard to believe one’s own eyes.
What a bizarre face it was—a invisible line extending down from the nose divided the face into two halves, each so distinctly different that it would be unforgettable to anyone. The left half of the face was parched like a piece of leather stuck to a skull, with every joint and seam of the facial bones clearly visible through the leather. Yet its black, almost colorless eyeball held such profound depth, its icy gaze capable of piercing through any obstacle in its path. The right half, on the other hand, resembled a delicate, fair infant’s face—its rosy-white skin exuding vitality, even the hairs on it appearing smooth and flawless. Yet it was still the eyes that ruined this perfection: cloudy, lifeless eyeballs filled with bloodshot veins and spots, making it hard to comprehend why such eyes could belong to that half of the face.
If someone were to tell you that this strikingly contrasting face belonged to Julius II, the current pope of the powerful Church of Light that dominated the continent, you would surely disbelieve it. Yet that was indeed the case.
The Caufni Chapel was also designed by Bernini himself, embodying architecture, sculpture, and painting in perfect harmony—its finest testament to his skill. The shrine of Saint Helena was entirely sculptural, with accurately rendered balconies depicted in low reliefs on the side walls. The Caufni family, standing behind the railings, gazed at the enchanting image of Helena as if about to step forward. The small chapel was dazzling, filled with golden light and vibrant colors, utterly magnificent.
The wheelchair finally came to a stop right in front of the chapel. Dappled sunlight streamed in through the stained glass from above, creating a rainbow of colors through the multiple refractions—such a dreamlike sight that it inspired believers to long for heaven. Wrapped in a simple white cloth, the frail body appeared bathed in colorful light, yet it still gave the impression that life was slowly draining away from this once-glorious figure.
Taking a slight breath, the person’s clear and cloudy eyes revealed a hint of sorrow, especially in the deeply dark eye. Their gaze rose to the open dome; the movable canopy above had been removed. Their fingers trembled slightly as their bony left hand lifted gracefully in a seemingly ordinary gesture. A murmuring sound, as if coming from deep within space, slowly filled the chapel.
In an instant, it seemed as though the entire chapel trembled slightly, with an invisible force enveloping the frail figure. Slowly, the person raised their head, turning their face—marked by both vitality and decay—toward the deep blue sky, as if piercing through the heavens to gaze beyond, or perhaps quietly waiting for something.
The change in the chapel’s energy field did not go unnoticed by the two people standing outside in the crystal hall. Almost simultaneously, they glanced toward the chapel before quickly pulling their eyes away. Their gazes briefly met in the air before parting, and they silently returned to their original states.
The old man dressed in pure white seemed on the verge of falling asleep. Had it not been for that brief exchange of glances, no one would have sensed the power hidden within him. His broad, fair face had a hint of rosy color, his silver hair like snow, paired with his white robes—what a reclusive monk, detached from the world. In contrast, the old man standing opposite the white-robed monk appeared much more plain. His gray mage robes were somewhat faded, and even the worn edges of his sleeves were clearly visible. His face was utterly ordinary; no matter how hard you tried to remember it, a single glance away would make it impossible to recall any of its features.
His dark, deep gaze lingered at the entrance of the chapel. The old man in gray robes seemed lost in thought. He had already sensed the immense magical power emanating from within the chapel, power strong enough to lift the entire structure. He even felt as though the massive energy field was about to tear the chapel apart. If this were not the chapel designed and built by the great Bernini himself, if it did not contain so many sacred relics, he believed it could never withstand such a powerful force.
“Great Prophecy!” A soft exclamation did not escape the gray-robed old man’s ears. It seemed he had no intention of hiding anything. Everyone present could feel the earth-shaking power of the Great Prophecy. Yet, no one could understand why the Pope would risk his health to cast such a spell.
“Lord Vazinki, can you sense the power of the Pope? It seems his health has recovered well, but isn’t it somewhat reckless to use the Great Prophecy Art? His condition doesn’t seem suitable for such magic.” The old man in plain clothes finally raised his head to look at the old man in gray robes who still stood with his head bowed. The calm on his face couldn’t conceal his astonishment; he was equally surprised by the Pope’s unexpected actions, believing the other man must feel the same—changes in the soul don’t require proof through outward appearances.
“Lord Frenst, the Pope has always acted independently. It’s hard for us to predict his moves. But I agree with Lord Frenst—using magic while his health isn’t fully restored does seem inappropriate.” With a faint smile, his expression didn’t change at all; you couldn’t even tell where the smile came from, yet it seemed clear he was smiling.
Nodding slightly, the old man in plain clothes, clearly Lord Frenst, retracted his dark gaze. Apart from Archbishop Vazinki, perhaps only that madman from the Tribunal, Noyola, in the Light Church could speak to him with such calmness. And the composed attitude of this man before him clearly couldn’t belong to those fanatics from the Tribunal.
“It seems turmoil is about to arise on the continent. I’ve followed the Pope for decades and have never seen him use the Great Prophecy Art because of something, especially in his current condition. His spiritual senses must have detected something—but what exactly drove him to do this?” It seemed like he was talking to himself as much as seeking the other man’s opinion. The old man in white robes never took his eyes off the gray-robed mage’s face, trying to discern some clue, but it wasn’t surprising—the other man appeared calmer than ever.
It seems his ability to purify the mind has surpassed mine, Frenst thought with admiration. Perhaps I’ve been too focused on improving my magical skills and neglected cultivating my spiritual strength. Should I adjust my mindset?