Chapter 32: Holy Word

Chapter 32: Holy Word

Although it had been less than a week since Klein entered the Forsaken Land of the Gods, he had long since gained enough understanding of this place through Little Sun. He knew that normal humans, and even saints, had to use fire and create light when walking in darkness. Otherwise, they would easily encounter attacks from the terrifying monsters hidden deep in the dark, or be swallowed by Concealment, vanishing soundlessly and never to be found again.

Yet at this moment, that aged clergyman carried no beast-hide lantern. He simply walked through the thin mist in utter darkness, slowly entering the church’s interior illuminated by the lantern’s dim yellow glow.

If not for his deep, calm eyes and the absence of even a hint of madness, Klein’s first reaction would absolutely have been that he had encountered a special monster.

Of course, this normal human-like state and his behavior of being immersed in darkness were so contradictory that any creature whose intelligence reached the standard line could easily conclude that the newcomer might be even more terrifying than a special monster.

Among existences that could walk through darkness unaffected while still possessing sufficient intelligence and spirituality, Klein had only ever seen one before:

The Blasphemer, Amon!

Feeling the dim yellow light shine upon his face, the tall, hunched elder in the deep-black clergyman’s robe stopped and looked at Klein beside the demonic wolf statue. In a low, hoarse voice, he asked, “Where did the master of this city-state go?”

Klein was the kind of person who, if he could avoid fighting strangers, would resolve things peacefully as much as possible. While raising his guard, he answered calmly, “I only just entered this city. I also do not know where its master went.”

No sooner had he finished than the entire church abruptly darkened. Thin mist surged in from outside like a tide, drowning the interior.

The lantern’s light in Klein’s hand could no longer illuminate the windows or entrance. The outside was deep black. Nothing else could be seen at all.

In the blink of an eye, the church that housed the demonic wolf statue seemed to have been isolated from the ancient city of Nois, transported to some unknown place.

Klein’s pupils dilated slightly. Looking at the wrinkled, white-haired clergyman, he asked in a low voice, “Who are you?”

The hunched clergyman answered with a lofty, overlooking attitude:

“I am the servant beside the Lord God’s throne, the Angel of Holy Word, Stieff. I walk this land of the past in the Lord’s stead, searching for blasphemers hidden in the darkness.”

As he spoke, the old man’s figure instantly expanded to four meters tall. Behind him appeared sheet after sheet of dark, illusory feathers. Their interwoven light and shadow wove into four pairs of deep yet sacred wings.

“Angel of Holy Word” Stieff… servant beside the Lord God’s throne… land of the past… This is a blessed of the True Creator, subordinate of the Angel of Fate, a member of Rose of Redemption? No wonder he can walk through darkness—he has the power of Depravity protecting him… That evil god is still searching for the Attendant of Mysteries Beyonder characteristic? Klein had no choice but to lift his head and meet the gaze of Stieff, who clearly still wore a black clergyman’s robe, yet had grown four pairs of angel wings. Even in angelic form, this high-ranking existence still had obvious wrinkles and withered white hair, His entire body filled with contradictions.

Pretending as though he had never been an enemy of the Aurora Order, Klein calmly said, “That blasphemer has long since fled. I am also looking for Him.”

Angel of Holy Word Stieff stared at Klein for two seconds, then asked in a deep voice, “Who are you?”

This is not a good question to answer directly… Klein sighed and smiled.

“I am a lonely traveler.”

No sooner had he given that answer than he abruptly sensed an extremely dark self being born within him. It sank downward, merging with the shadow cast by the lantern’s light.

That pitch-black figure immediately twisted and “came alive,” stretching into another Gehrman Sparrow—one whose eyes were sinister and whose aura was lonely.

This… Klein’s gaze shrank. Without hesitation, he reached his right hand diagonally forward and grabbed into the air.

At this point, if he still could not guess that Stieff was making use of his “answers,” then he might as well join the Aurora Order and believe in the True Creator.

At that moment, he already understood what the Angel of Holy Word was.

This was clearly an Angel of Evil Words!

Using the other party’s answer, intercepting parts of it or expanding ambiguity, He created speech-spirit-like effects.

When Klein said he did not know where the city’s master had gone, Stieff intercepted “I do not know where I went,” making Klein trap himself and isolate himself from the outside world.

When this angel spoke of His own identity, every word elevated His level and power.

When Klein answered who he was, that answer was used to split off a “lonely traveler” self.

From the moment He appeared in the ancient city of Nois, Stieff, wearing the black clergyman’s robe, had carried intense malice!

Just as Klein attempted to summon a certain image from the gaps of history, the sinister Gehrman Sparrow seemed connected to him in mind. It too grabbed toward the same projection, and the two attempts canceled each other out.

Seeing that the Ancient Scholar’s ability had been restrained, Klein’s gaze hardened. Without hesitation, he opened his mouth, intending to speak a word in Jotun.

But the next second, that word was stolen.

At some unknown point, a blood-covered head had grown from the left shoulder of the nearly four-meter-tall, hunched Angel of Holy Word Stieff. It resembled His own appearance, but much younger, seemingly only in His forties.

Around that head grew two skinless, bloody arms. They herded different souls and used a Beyonder power to steal thoughts and ideas.

At the same time, a blood-drenched head also grew from Stieff’s right shoulder. Its appearance was that of Him at only twenty years old.

Of the three heads, one herded souls and stole Klein’s thoughts. One coldly watched the target, deepening his self-recognition as a “lonely traveler.” And one opened and closed its mouth, saying:

“You are lying!

“You are the blasphemer who destroyed the ritual for the birth of the Son of God and twice interfered with the Lord’s descent into the world!

“You are one of the targets I seek!”

The corner of Klein’s mouth twitched slightly. Then he calmly spat out a word in Jotun:

“Leodero!”

This was the true name of the Lord of Storms!

The reason Klein’s thought had not been stolen was because he had arranged what he would do next into a queue, and every item in that queue was identical. Having the front portion stolen did not affect him following the thoughts behind it.

This was valuable experience he had gained from fighting Amon.

Of course, if he encountered Amon again, Klein suspected a similar method might not necessarily work. Once the God of Mischief was on guard, He would definitely come up with new tricks.

No sooner had Klein’s voice faded than bright silver-white lightning bolts reflected in Angel of Holy Word Stieff’s eyes.

They covered the entire ancient city of Nois, piercing through the darkness enveloping the church and tearing all Depravity, Concealment, gloom, impurity, and evil to shreds.

Within this, Klein and that sinister Gehrman Sparrow stood at the core of the thunderstorm. They disintegrated and dispersed without so much as a grunt.

Then the silver-white, twisting, wanton, terrifying electric serpents swallowed the surrounding area, swallowed the demonic wolf statue, and swallowed Angel of Holy Word Stieff.

Amid a deep, spreading roar, the ancient city of Nois completely collapsed, becoming true ruins.

On the opposite side of the dried-up riverbed, Klein’s historical projection rapidly turned illusory, and his true body returned to the real world.

Immediately afterward, Klein performed Flame Jump repeatedly, putting distance between himself and the Nois ruins. During the process, he pulled out paper figurines several times and snapped them into “angels” to erase traces.

The barren plain returned to deathly silence once more. After no one knew how long, the church ruins trembled. Stieff shook off dust and stones and slowly stood.

His completely white hair had become even sparser, and His deep-black clergyman’s robe was ragged and torn.

The Angel of Holy Word silently left the ancient city of Nois, identified a direction, and walked into the depths of darkness.

Half a day later, a human figure approached the city-state ruins from another direction. It was Klein, who had made a wide circle around the area.

Earlier, he had not yet had time to inspect the ancient city of Nois. Now he had returned hoping to find clues regarding the true destination of the existence who had originally occupied this place.

From a relatively far distance, Klein repeated the entire preparatory process: entering the space above the gray fog to inspect, summoning a historical projection, hiding in an ancient fragment, and using the historical projection to summon another historical projection.

After completing his preparations, he stepped into Nois once again. In absolute silence, he returned to the church from before.

Along the way, the corpses collapsed on the ground had either become ash or left only segments of charcoal, completely losing their terrifying, bizarre feeling.

“That fellow called Stieff didn’t die… Looks like the residual Storm divine power here can at most injure an angel…” Klein stopped before the opened church ruins and muttered inwardly with slight regret.

Of course, it was only slight regret. He had never truly hoped to solve an angel so easily.

As his gaze swept the surroundings, Klein saw several fragments left from the demonic wolf statue.

Their surfaces were deep black, while their interiors were dark red. They did not look like common stone.

“For that Dark Demonic Wolf to use these stones to carve Its own idol, they definitely aren’t simple. Also, they don’t look like products of the nearby area… Perhaps by tracing their origin, I can find the place where the Dark Demonic Wolf hid before coming to the ancient city of Nois…

“As a Miracle Invoker, or even an Attendant of Mysteries, that Dark Demonic Wolf is definitely skilled at eliminating traces. Directly tracking Its whereabouts will be very hard to succeed. But if I can find most of the places It previously hid, I can use that to glimpse Its habits and style…

“Once you grasp a person’s past, you can predict his future!”

Thoughtfully, Klein took two steps forward, bent down, and attempted to pick up a piece of the statue.

At that moment, a blackened hand suddenly stretched over, blocking his fingers.

From the corner of his eye, Klein saw that a charred corpse nearby had stood up at some unknown time!

The charred corpse held a monocle carved from crystal in its other hand and placed it over its left eye.

Amon! Left eye… Klein’s heart first tightened, and then intense doubt and suspicion emerged.

The next second, that charred corpse smiled.

“Sorry. Wrong side.”

As it spoke, it took off the monocle and moved it to its right eye.