Chapter 189: The Image Left Behind by Selina Gelph

Ten days into the onset of winter, the brick kiln factory and the arcane crystal smelting plant in the New Cecil territory completed their comprehensive expansion and renovation.

The deployment of mining machinery ensured a steady rise in steel production, which in turn guaranteed the smooth activation of machines and equipment across the territory, one after another. In the brick kiln and crystal smelting plants, new molding machines, crushers, tunnel kilns, and more powerful honeycomb arcane grids replaced the old equipment, prompting these factories to undergo early refurbishment and reconstruction. Though many regarded these sprawling “factory zones” as impressive large-scale buildings, to Gawain they were still just bigger workshops. Only after every factory had undergone at least one expansion did they begin to resemble the “factories” he envisioned.

The territory was changing daily. Ample food supplies and heating materials sustained the workforce, while Nicholas’s godlike metal manipulation allowed machines to materialize from blueprints as if printed. Every day, Gawain found piles of progress reports on his desk. Though reviewing them was mentally taxing, he found it deeply satisfying.

Reading reports was far more pleasant than wielding a blade against cultists—those battles meant people were suffering at the hands of villains, but these reports meant everyone in the territory was getting better and better.

Yet, besides the reports, Gawain had other matters to attend to.

The “Soul Lantern” he had retrieved from the Kant territory sat on his desk, emitting a faint, pure white glow.

When he first left Kant, the lantern had seemed unstable. It continuously emitted a faint violet mist like starlight, and anyone who touched it heard faint, strange sounds. Effects like hallucinations and nightmares were common. Moreover, it refused to activate as Gawain remembered it should. It seemed that even without Lilith Kant—the lantern’s original user—the negative energy trapped inside wouldn’t dissipate. So Gawain had no choice but to seal it away temporarily in a storage vault within the mountain ruins.

But yesterday, a guard suddenly reported that the lantern’s violet starlight had faded.

It had returned to normal—or at least, on the surface. Apparently, the evil rituals performed by the Sleepless cultists couldn’t sustain their power indefinitely. Once the rituals ceased, the nightmare energy inside the lantern quickly waned.

Gawain picked up the lantern, carefully examining its crystal casing and intricate brass base. Through the translucent crystal, complex runes slowly shifted—much as they had seven centuries ago.

This lantern wasn’t a product of the ancient Gondor Empire. Its technology came from the dwarven kingdoms in the western continent. Those squat, mining-loving dwarves often seemed rough, but they were masters of crafting exquisite tools, especially skilled at combining crystal and metal into wondrous magical devices. The “Dream Lantern” was the proud creation of a renowned dwarven artisan of that era.

In Gawain’s memory, besides amplifying dream magic and protecting the user’s spirit, the lantern had some unique little functions.

He placed his hand on the lantern, infusing it with a trace of magic—enough to awaken it, but not fully activate it. As he did, he pictured Selina Gelph’s figure in his mind and silently spoke her name.

Seconds later, fragmented, chaotic images began to surface in his mind.

He “saw” himself floating about a meter above the ground, the viewpoint swaying slightly from side to side. In his peripheral vision stood a woman clad in moon-white priestly robes, and farther off were tents and simple huts.

A surge of excitement welled up inside Gawain: the data really hadn’t vanished!

This was the Dream Lantern’s special function—when infused with the right magic, it could record images and sounds, then replay them directly into the user’s mind through a special extraction method. Selina Gelph had often used this feature to document scenes along her pioneering journey. On rare occasions, she even managed to transmit crucial intelligence this way.

Gawain’s only worry was whether the lantern’s new owner after Selina had also used this function—if so, Selina’s recordings might have been overwritten. But it seemed this secret feature was known only to Selina and himself.

The initial footage showed scenes from the expedition—familiar to Gawain, so he quickly skimmed past them. Soon, he found the recordings near the end.

He hoped Selina had kept up the habit of recording meaningful images, capturing the scenes he most wanted to see.

Finally, another image appeared. Gawain “watched” Selina Gelph walking along a rugged mountain path, surrounded by solemn “pilgrims” dressed in priestly robes or church armor.

The next scene showed a wide clearing atop the mountain, where a massive altar had been set up. Priests and church knights stood solemnly around it, while in the distance, mist swirled among rolling peaks.

The Ancestor’s Peak! The ceremony seven centuries ago where the high clergy of all major churches gathered to commune with the gods!

“I’m a bit nervous. Everyone looks tense. I hope everything goes smoothly,” a faint, low female voice echoed in Gawain’s mind. It took him a moment to realize it was Selina’s voice—the dream priestess was recording her impressions of the ceremony.

It was her habit.

The image wavered as Selina seemed to move position. When it steadied, Gawain saw familiar figures gathered beside the large altar in the clearing.

He saw the Pope of the Church of the Holy Light, the Pope of the War God’s Church, the High Priest of the Holy Spirit sect, and various other church leaders and pontiffs…

The supreme leaders of all the sects.

At this point, the “Religious Peace Accord,” or the “Ancestor’s Peak Agreement,” had yet to be signed. The sects were still at odds. Yet the scene atop Ancestor’s Peak was far less hostile than outsiders imagined. Though the atmosphere was tense and solemn, it was due more to the gravity of the ritual than religious rivalry.

Had these leaders already reached a consensus for peace before communing with the gods? Even the future leaders of the corrupted Dream Church, Storm Church, and Druid Church seemed to have accepted this accord?

Countless speculations flooded Gawain’s mind. Then, one religious leader stepped forward.

Clad in a solemn black robe and wearing a wooden mask painted with constellations and eyes, Gawain hesitated briefly before recognizing him as Megor III—the Pope of the Dream God’s Church seven centuries ago.

Megor III approached the altar, removed his mask and robe, standing there in simple attire as the other leaders bestowed their blessings. What happened next puzzled Gawain:

After the blessings, several archmages stepped forward—non-clerical spellcasters who began casting one protective spell after another on Megor.

Every protective spell Gawain could name was layered upon the Dream Pope. Judging by their robes and bearing, these archmages were all immensely powerful, so the effects were extraordinary.

Once the magical protections were complete, Megor III began donning a strange “suit” with assistance. It lacked the elegance of priestly robes and could only be described as ugly—thick, multi-layered, with integrated gloves and boots, covering every inch. Each layer bore intricate magical patterns.

Only when Megor III put on a bizarre, crystal-made spherical helmet did Gawain realize what it was:

A magical version of a spacesuit!

Selina’s voice came from outside the image: “…The Pope has received blessings and magical enhancements, and is now wearing a protective suit specially made according to the ‘Divine Revelation’—capable of resisting divine powers. Honestly, it’s ugly, but it has all the necessary functions. I hope everything goes well…”

With Selina’s soft prayer, Gawain saw Megor III step onto the altar. At the same time, two others emerged, standing at special nodes on the altar’s outer edges.

They were the Pope of the Storm God and the High Druid of the Holy Spirit sect.

They seemed to communicate with the Dream Pope, but the recording had no sound. Due to the camera angle, Gawain couldn’t read their lips. He could only judge from the altar’s design that these two leaders would participate in the upcoming ritual and likely face some risk.

Then, the ceremony began.

Runes on the altar lit up one by one. The overwhelming energy released by the divine array distorted the surrounding air. Megor III, encased in his “spacesuit,” raised his hand and waved vigorously at the surrounding popes, pontiffs, and the Holy See.

A beam of white light descended from the sky, and Megor III’s figure vanished within it.

The image then plunged into darkness—the recording ended there.

It seemed some powerful force had prematurely cut off Selina Gelph’s “recording.”

(End of chapter)