Chapter 19: No One Gets to Leave

Chapter 19: No One Gets to Leave

Although there were not many worshippers in the Church of Storms at night, Klein still chose the corridor leading to the garden as the place where they appeared, in order to avoid conflict.

“How amazing…” Pasha looked at the surrounding scene as it solidified and murmured to herself.

Roy forcibly restrained the emotion surging in his heart. He glanced to the left and right and said,

“If that Patriarch came to the church to avoid the curfew decree, he would probably be in a similar place.”

“If he wasn’t worried about accumulating crimes, an angel would have too many ways to deceive ordinary people.” Klein spoke casually. “Later, I will send you to the other churches. Try to stay somewhere with glass windows or mirrors. Once you discover an outsider who seems to be Feysacian, find a chance to draw a symbol…”

Before he could finish, his head suddenly turned toward the door that connected the great prayer hall to the garden.

A figure over two and a half meters tall slowly walked out. He wore a black robe edged with white, and his muscles bulged beneath the loose clothing, stretching it taut.

This was an old man with grizzled stubble and a square cap. His eyes were pale blue, with only a few wrinkles on his face, and he naturally carried an air of looking down upon all things.

Larrion, Patriarch of the Church of the God of Combat… There was no need for Klein to identify him. His spiritual intuition told him that the figure before him was an angel and the target he had come to the church to find.

Larrion glanced at him and spoke with slight surprise.

“Not Arianna…”

He then withdrew the expression from his face and said with considerable indifference,

“It seems you are Her helper.

“You may tell Her that I have reached an agreement with 0-02, which has activated to a certain extent. I will abandon sealing it in exchange for permission to leave, while all of you will remain here, enduring the changing rules and increasingly strict laws until you die completely…”

The Patriarch did not seem at all worried that Klein would stop him. As he spoke, his body aged rapidly. In no time, wrinkles covered his skin, liver spots grew across it, and decaying liquid seeped out.

In the span of only a few blinks, Larrion had aged to the point that he seemed about to evaporate from the human world.

Then he truly turned completely into rotting liquid and evaporated in full.

The scene, filled with overwhelming impact, made Byers and the others feel genuine terror. Their minds seemed close to chaos, their emotions near collapse.

It was as horrifying and terrifying as when countless little worms had crawled out of Mr. Magician’s wrist wound and formed a new palm.

“A strange ability, related to Twilight?” Klein showed no intention of stopping Larrion. He merely nodded, as if in thought.

Within the spirit world corresponding to Belltaine, Larrion’s figure was outlined and returned to normal.

Immediately afterward, as though he could command spirit world creatures, he penetrated the invisible barrier and escaped the layers of restrictions surrounding Belltaine.

But just as Larrion began to shuttle away, his vision suddenly darkened, and he saw a pitch-black, seamless “cloth.”

It was like a wall, blocking Larrion’s path forward.

Larrion cautiously stopped his traversal and looked upward toward the infinite heights where the Seven Lights resided. All he could see was an illusory “curtain” hanging down from there, covering the portion of the spirit world corresponding to Belltaine and isolating it into an independent world.

At the same time, Larrion’s Demon Hunter intuition told him that the barrier formed by that “curtain” was extremely sturdy and difficult to break through. It would take no small amount of time and effort to do so.

For the Patriarch, what was happening now had a peculiar absurdity to it, causing anger to surge within him despite himself.

It was like having gone through countless hardships to finally find the key to a secret chamber, only to discover, just as he had a chance to open the door and leave before everyone else, that there was now another lock on that door—an extremely sturdy one.

It lacks a little reality. It’s an image from the historical void… This is fraud! No, it is outside Belltaine, beyond the jurisdiction of the rules… This historical projection should have existed here long ago. In no more than two minutes, it will be unable to sustain itself and disperse on its own… Larrion quickly regained his calm, once again balancing his anchors against his tendency toward madness.

…

In the corridor of the Church of Storms, Roy and the others finally recovered. They turned their heads to look at Mr. Magician, whose status did not seem much lower than an angel’s.

After hesitating, Pasha said with considerable fear,

“He… He seems to have escaped.”

If so, they would have no way to obtain information on 0-02’s location. If they truly had to rely on a carpet search, there was definitely not enough time.

Moreover, none of those present knew what that terrifying Sealed Artifact actually looked like. A description like “similar to a book” was far too broad.

“We can only think of another way.” Klein answered with upturned lips. “Do any of you have suggestions?”

He had been waiting for Larrion to return and negotiate with him, only to discover that the Patriarch would rather wait in the spirit world for the “curtain” historical projection to vanish. As for Klein himself, while he could enter that part of the spirit world, he could not break through the strange barrier created after 0-02 replaced the rules.

As he spoke, Klein seriously considered other methods while allowing a small number of Spirit Worms to control his body and converse with the Beyonders beside him, attempting to find inspiration from their discussion.

“We should actively create a ‘contradiction’ like the one on Byers, placing ourselves in a relatively safe state. Only then can we begin searching,” Phil brought up the idea from earlier.

Pasha shook her head.

“But if we use that ‘contradiction’ to do anything, 0-02 will definitely add new rules to resolve the corresponding problem.”

“At the very least, it can buy us more time,” Phil emphasized.

“That can indeed be done,” Roy said in agreement, then added, “But our focus should be on finding 0-02. Perhaps we can create some kind of ‘contradiction’ that forces it to reveal its own location?”

As for what kind of contradiction could achieve that effect, and how to create it, he currently had no ideas whatsoever.

Contradictory situations… Adding new rules to resolve them… Klein wore a smile as he quietly listened. In his mind, one thought after another collided violently, sparks bursting out between them.

Just then, waterlight rose on the surface of the Magic Mirror in his hand, and silver words appeared one after another.

“Pasha, do you wish to know what new contents have been added to the noticeboard?”

This mirror is asking me directly… Why is it asking me directly? Pasha froze for a moment, then hurriedly nodded.

“Yes.”

Waterlight surged within the silver mirror and quickly restored the noticeboard’s current state.

Very clearly, two new rules had been added there:

“…All major churches shall cooperate with the curfew decree and close early…”

“…All inns shall only receive guests whose identity documents have been registered…”

Phil instantly panicked.

“…Where can we go now?”

He could no longer imagine how he, Roy, and Pasha could avoid punishment.

Roy and Pasha looked at one another. All kinds of thoughts surfaced in their minds, but none of them were useful.

At that moment, Klein, who had remained quiet before, smiled and turned his gaze toward Byers.

“Where in Belltaine is your home?”

“Inside a rented room at 18 Red Maple Street. But that apartment building already collapsed under artillery fire,” Byers answered with some confusion.

Klein smiled.

“You can make a wish to me for your home to be restored to its original state.”

“…Can that be done?” Although the miraculous Mr. Magician had healed Phil’s severed hand with abilities beyond belief, Byers still felt that restoring a collapsed house should be more difficult than that. After all, according to Roy, the military doctor Webber could also heal severed limbs.

“Of course.” Klein smiled and reminded him, “Hurry.”

The worshippers inside the church were leaving one after another.

Byers did not dare delay any longer. He immediately spoke.

“I wish for my home to be restored to its original state.”

“All right.” Klein raised his right hand and snapped his fingers. “Your wish has been granted.”

Eh? While Roy and the others were still stunned, Klein opened Teleportation again and brought them to 18 Red Maple Street, stopping outside a two-bedroom room.

Byers stared blankly at the familiar wooden door before him. Subconsciously, he stretched out his right hand and pushed it open.

Cabinets, a coal stove, bunk beds, a greasy wooden table, and old newspapers scattered messily about entered Byers’s eyes one after another, instantly making his gaze moisten.

Before the war broke out, whenever he returned here from the mines, he could always see his mother busy beside the coal stove. His father and elder brother would either use the spare time to perform small repairs, or help trim bad portions from fruit and vegetables, taking on work that could be done at home. His young niece would sit beside her mother, who pasted matchboxes, learning the shapes of words from scraps of old newspaper.

Though such a life had been hard and had no ability to withstand even the slightest risk, it was still an extremely beautiful memory for Byers—better by far than dim mine tunnels, heavy ore, and the overseer’s whip.

And now, even this tiny, insignificant beauty had been completely destroyed.

“Won’t you invite us in?” Phil stood at the doorway, not daring to trespass into a private residence.

Byers suddenly came back to himself and hurriedly said,

“Please come in, please come in.”

After entering the unoccupied room, Klein pulled over a chair that looked like it could break at any moment and sat down, falling into silence.

Roy, Pasha, and the others did not dare disturb this gentleman. They waited quietly at the side.

Twenty or thirty seconds later, Klein suddenly looked around and said with a smile,

“I have an idea I need to verify. Which of you will cooperate with me?”

“I will,” Roy replied without hesitation.

Klein smiled.

“In a moment, do not answer the question truthfully. I am searching for a loophole hidden within the rules that 0-02 has already proclaimed.”

Roy nodded.

“No problem.”

Klein then took out the Magic Mirror and said to Roy,

“Ask it a question.”

Roy thought for a moment before saying,

“Where can I search for my next potion?”

A scene immediately appeared on the surface of the silver mirror.

It was Larrion, the Patriarch of the Church of the God of Combat, waiting in the spirit world.

…Roy’s expression instantly stiffened. Then he heard Mr. Magician say,

“Now it is your turn to answer its question. Remember, do not give the correct answer.”

Roy hurriedly gathered his thoughts and looked again toward the mirror. The scene inside had already changed into Mr. Magician himself, with several lines of text written as if in blood:

“To whom did you give your first time?”

Roy instantly recalled the past. His face flushed crimson. Then, following Mr. Magician’s instruction, he answered,

“I don’t know.”

“You are lying!” The bloody text on the mirror surface instantly condensed into a single word that made one’s hair stand on end.

Pa!

A not particularly strong bolt of lightning appeared out of thin air and struck Roy.

Roy convulsed and screamed. Many parts of his body were charred black, and every strand of hair stood on end, but his life was not truly in danger.

Byers, Pasha, and Phil all jumped in fright, completely unaware of what had just happened.

At that moment, Klein looked around. The corners of his mouth lifted bit by bit.

“You see, the mirror was not punished for intentional injury.

“Within this lies a true opportunity.”