Chapter 1527: A Simple and Clear Answer

Under the ongoing reforms of the Divine Authority Council and the strong governance of the Cecil Empire, the clergy in this city had grown accustomed to—or rather, forced to accept—things that would have seemed unimaginable in the past. Things like the centralized “Church District,” where all temples and churches were gathered and managed uniformly; laws forbidding any cleric from delivering divine messages without approval from the Supreme Administrative Office; and even…

The two real powerhouses of the Holy Light Church dropping by the temple of the God of Commerce for a casual visit.

As the most influential and powerful “first sect” within the Cecil Empire, and the earliest to implement institutional reforms and actively support the Empire’s new policies, the Holy Light Church held an extremely important seat on the Divine Authority Council. The monks and nuns personally trained by Light and Veronica were key talents within the Council—after all, the Council was an organization that dealt heavily with religion. Aside from technical research roles, it needed many genuinely knowledgeable theologians, and in this regard, the deeply reformed Holy Light Church was the most trustworthy.

Because of this relationship, the Holy Light Church had, in a sense, become the Empire’s “state religion.” It was also officially recognized by the Divine Authority Council as a “model institution.” Although Emperor Gawain always insisted on the principle of “not recognizing any religion as the Empire’s state religion,” he still needed a compliant “proxy” to help manage the myriad sects within the Empire. The Holy Light Church was the natural choice, and Light and Veronica, his reliable followers, had lived up to his expectations.

With their exceptional abilities and personal charisma, they earned the respect of many church administrators in the city and maintained a delicate balance amid the complex power struggles within the Church District. They ensured the Council’s initiatives were implemented smoothly across the major churches, while minimizing resistance from all sides—a feat that was far from easy.

Thanks to the backing of the Divine Authority Council and the Imperial Court, it wasn’t difficult for Light and Veronica to enter the temples of other gods. But to do so and have the Archbishop of the God of Commerce welcome them warmly—even showing a relieved expression—spoke volumes.

The heavy wooden door to the side chamber opened again. Light, dressed in a simple robe, and Veronica, holding her platinum scepter, appeared before Gawain. They stepped forward and saluted. Light frowned as he surveyed the chaotic scene in the room, then shook his head after a moment. “The damage is severe… but there’s no residual supernatural energy.”

“We’ve confirmed that,” Gawain nodded. “Only physical destruction remains. That’s actually a good sign. No lingering divine will means the god’s state is still stable—at least, there’s no sign of a mad loss of control. This damage might just be a simple energy outburst or some kind of… signal.”

Veronica nodded slightly, then looked at Archbishop Boris standing nearby. “Your Excellency, may we inspect the side chamber?”

“Of course,” the slightly portly Boris immediately agreed. He knew that this “Saint Princess” was here on behalf of the Divine Authority Council, with the Emperor’s endorsement, so cooperating was no problem. “We sealed off the entire corridor after the anomaly occurred. The scene here remains as it was.”

“Good,” Veronica nodded, then hesitated before making a somewhat bold request. “Also… Your Excellency, would you mind stepping outside for a while?”

The request caught Boris off guard. Even his usually genial face showed a flicker of discomfort. “I… need a reason, Princess Veronica. This is the sanctuary of our Lord.”

“This is precisely out of respect for the god, and for your own safety,” Veronica said solemnly, locking eyes with Boris. Asking the Archbishop of the God of Commerce to leave his own temple was certainly audacious, but her reasoning was sound. “We suspect the divine realm of the gods is currently unstable, and the investigation may uncover some ‘secrets’ related to this. You are a devout follower of the God of Commerce, and because of this connection, it’s necessary for you to remain outside during the investigation.”

Boris’s expression shifted subtly.

For ordinary lower-ranking clerics, faith might be simple and pure. They knew few secrets, allowing them to accept divine will without distraction. But a high-ranking cleric like him could not embrace faith so purely. Since the Council’s establishment, senior clerics were required to undergo training to understand theological trends and knowledge about the gods within safe limits. This process weeded out many conservative clerics who failed to meet the standards. Those who passed—progressives like Boris—had to constantly remember certain principles and “taboos” throughout their careers.

“Keep your distance from your god. Distance protects your mind,” Light’s deep voice broke the silence. Standing nearly two meters tall, he looked imposing before Boris, but his tone was gentle and his smile warm, making his words persuasive. “Worship requires separation, and ‘understanding’ is a sharp blade that can pierce faith. Your Excellency Boris, unless you’re prepared to face the final test, it’s best not to be curious about our investigation.”

“…I understand,” Boris’s face shifted twice. He clearly grasped Light’s meaning. As a rational man with flexible standards of devotion, he took only two seconds to reach the right conclusion. “I will wait outside. If you need anything, please call on me.”

With that, the Archbishop turned and left the side chamber. Only then did Amber seize the chance to ask Light, “What was all that about? You guys were going around in circles with all that god-talk…”

Light opened his mouth but hadn’t decided how to answer when Gawain spoke up beside him. “It means we suspect Baufal’s been hit by the Lady of Night. We’re likely to uncover some pretty shocking stuff soon. A devout believer might not handle the shock well. Considering the God of Commerce’s dignity, the church’s reputation, and Archbishop Boris’s mental state, it’s best he not be here.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Amber waved her hand. “Like when they ask family to leave during an autopsy because it’s too upsetting…”

Veronica shot a strange look back and forth between Gawain and Amber several times before finally frowning. “Sometimes I really wonder how you two even communicate.”

“It’s not every day you hear that from ‘Ophelia Norton,’” Gawain chuckled, then waved the topic away. “Enough of that. Let’s see if there are any valuable clues here. Veronica, you’re the expert on divine realms. What do you make of this?”

Veronica said nothing at first. She walked slowly around the side chamber, platinum scepter in hand, taking in every mark and trace. After a thorough scan, she stopped thoughtfully at the far end, looking up at the “holy statue” placed there.

The statue of Baufal, the God of Commerce, stood quietly atop a granite pedestal. In the mortal world, he was depicted as a calm-faced middle-aged man, dressed in splendid robes, holding coins and scales symbolizing wealth and trade.

Like other churches on the Loren Continent (except the deeply reformed Holy Light Church, which had abandoned idol worship), Baufal’s followers had crafted this statue with exquisite artistry. It was lifelike, exuding an indescribable aura of solemn dignity—an aura likely enhanced by the glowing runes surrounding it.

Veronica stood silently at the statue’s base, gazing up. As the leader of the Renegades, she felt no reverence here—only calm curiosity and the analytical eye of a researcher.

“This is Baufal’s statue. For centuries, mortals have depicted their God of Commerce in this form, so presumably this is also his true appearance in the divine realm…” Gawain joined her, glancing up at the sculpture. “Is there something wrong with the statue?”

“The statue itself is fine,” Veronica replied softly, her face thoughtful. “But statues in cathedrals often have a real reflective connection to their gods. Usually, when anomalies occur nearby, clues appear on the statue itself.” She paused, then added, “But strangely… there are no cracks, no scorch marks, no deformation. Baufal’s face shows no abnormalities.”

“That means the anomaly happened around the statue, but wasn’t actively caused by its ‘owner.’ At least, the destructive force in this side chamber wasn’t released through the statue as a medium,” Light nodded. Some of his knowledge came from Veronica, and some from recent Council research. “The marks here might indeed be a signal, but it’s not from Baufal.”

“Then it must be the Lady of Night,” Amber said casually, eyes scanning the cracks of various sizes on the floor. “Too bad the signal’s so abstract. Who can make sense of this mess? If worse comes to worst, we can take rubbings of all the marks and have some linguists and cryptographers piece it together later.”

“No need to go to such trouble,” Veronica shook her head. “I’ve already started modeling it.”

“Huh?” Amber blinked. “Modeling? What kind of model?”

Veronica didn’t explain. It was hard to describe to a layperson how the computational arrays left from the Gondor era could simulate complex geometric deformations. She had already scanned all the marks into her mind and transmitted the data to the Ophelia Matrix deep beneath the Azure Well. The massive graphic data was now being continuously pieced together and reorganized within the matrix, attempting to form meaningful patterns. The process was similar to Amber’s suggestion but far more efficient.

Gawain seemed to guess what Veronica was doing. He waited patiently, then couldn’t help but ask, “Any results yet?”

“Not yet. I’m trying to piece together letters or pictograms from these marks, but…” Veronica shook her head. Then, mid-sentence, she suddenly stopped, her expression turning very strange. “Ah, this…”

Her lips twitched once, and with a stiff neck, she turned her head away, her gaze landing on the sacred image of Baofal, the God of Commerce. Then her lips twitched again.

After all these years, Gawain had never seen such a human expression on the face of this so-called “Saint Princess”!

He and Amber spoke in unison, “Did you notice something?”

“Maybe… the answer is even simpler than we thought,” Veronica said casually, tracing a shape in the air beside her. The holy light floating around her gathered at her fingertips, quickly forming a three-dimensional model of the dents on the floor of the side chamber. “A straightforward, obvious result—yet one that everyone’s mind has overlooked.”

Amber blinked, staring at Veronica’s projection of holy light, utterly confused. “Who’s supposed to understand this? Isn’t this just… wait—”

Suddenly, she got it. Gawain did too.

“That’s Baofal’s face,” Gawain’s mouth twitched, barely able to believe what he was seeing. “A face as big as this entire side chamber, smashed flat on the floor…”

It was indeed a simple and direct conclusion. Yet even a tough guy like Leight couldn’t hide his shock at the revelation. “So all the mess and dents in this room are actually from a face being slammed onto the floor?! Wait, it does look like it, but some details don’t quite match up, like—”

“That’s not a mismatch. It’s a face that got beaten up and twisted. Think back—does the face under your fist look like this?” Gawain covered half his own face, suddenly realizing that this hidden ancient god was far more formidable than he’d imagined. At the very least, whatever this deity had done was beyond ordinary comprehension. “But there’s also a shattered dent next to the face, which is a bit hard to explain…”

No sooner had he finished speaking than Amber suddenly cleared her throat twice. “Ahem, I think I know what that is.”

Gawain shot her a surprised look. Then he saw her reach into a shadowy crack in the air and pull out a short staff. The end of the staff had a terrifying forked design, half black, half white, like a double-headed war hammer.

Amber swung this knockoff shadow scepter twice in midair, gesturing toward Veronica’s holy light projection. “Look at this club. Doesn’t the hammer end match the shape of that dent on the floor?”

“You just called it a ‘club’!” Gawain blurted out. “That thing’s clearly a scepter…”

Amber retorted confidently, “Do you really think Lady Night used that thing to do even a tiny bit of what a scepter’s supposed to do?!”

(End of chapter)