Chapter 289: Your Youyou Public Beta Has Begun
Under Veronica’s watchful gaze, one by one, the figures of holy light departed the Great Hall of Illumination. The turbulent divine energy that had filled the space gradually began to settle once more. Only after the last bishop had left did she slightly turn her body to look at Saint Ivan III standing beside her.
“Your Holiness, did you wish to speak with me?”
The aged pope slouched in his ornate chair, the strength he forced himself to muster slowly ebbing away. Though radiant beams of holy light descended from above, they could not reverse the steady decline of his frail body. After several heavy breaths, he lifted his eyelids and said, “Veronica, faithful child of the Lord, what have you seen in the highest prayer chamber?”
She recalled the cold snow blanketing the filthy, grimy streets.
“I saw the holy light shining upon this world, the Lord’s pasture pure and untainted.”
She saw people filled with desire entering the church—those wealthy praying for more wealth, the powerful for greater influence—while the poor lacked even the right to step inside, forced to kneel on the outermost steps of the cathedral.
“I saw the Lord’s people gathering under the holy light, their souls filled with the Lord’s power, becoming pure and sacred.”
“Good,” the pope said slowly, his expression peaceful. “Veronica, my time is short.”
Veronica bent forward. “Your Holiness, your body still seems strong.”
“Do not comfort me, nor do I seek comfort,” the old man shook his head gently. “I will return to the Lord’s embrace. Recently, in visions… I have seen the Lord’s face. He stands at the center of the divine realm, smiling at me. The day I return will be my greatest glory… I will not resist it.”
The Lord’s visage…
The word echoed in Veronica’s mind, but what appeared was a shapeless, massive crystal. The true face of the God of Holy Light had been deeply imprinted in her memory, impossible to shake.
“Veronica, I do not fear death, but I worry our cause will falter with my passing,” the pope’s voice interrupted her thoughts, slow and resolute. “Do you remember the revelation you heard from our Lord?”
“Of course I do. I will never forget,” Veronica answered firmly. “The world is tainted by filth. The false gods cannot save it. Among all the gods, only the Holy Light is the final salvation—the Lord’s will will guide all mortals through the ultimate calamity.”
“The Holy Light is the only salvation,” Saint Ivan III slowly closed his eyes. “Many may not understand what we must do, but we must do it, for the Lord has awakened us from ignorance… to give us the mission to save all beings.”
“I am willing to bear this mission, to make faith in the Holy Light the only belief in this world…”
“Good, child. The Lord is pleased by your words,” Saint Ivan III’s voice grew faint, as if slipping into a dream. “The Holy Light is the only salvation, the only…”
Veronica leaned closer to the pope, who was drifting off, and whispered devoutly, “The Holy Light is the only salvation…”
…
“Calculus is our true path!” In the Rune Research Institute’s comprehensive analysis room, Kamail floated high above the ground, dozens of sheets of paper swirling around him under the control of his magic. They were covered in dense formulas and graphs. “The Lord has lit a bright beacon for us!”
Rebecca, Jenny, and a dozen assistants—including several new recruits—stood nearby, somewhat helplessly watching the ancient mage’s excitement lift him literally off the floor. Only after Kamail calmed down did Jenny speak up.
“Master Kamail, could you come down? The magic crystal lamps on the ceiling are about to burn out from your heat.”
“Oh? Right,” Kamail quickly lowered himself. “I was wondering why it felt so warm near my head.”
Rebecca looked at the glowing mage with admiration. “Master Kamail, you’re amazing! Did you grasp all this so quickly? I’ve listened to our ancestors talk about it for ages and studied on my own, but I still don’t fully understand…”
“That’s because your inductive variation formula—or as the Lord calls it, your foundation in functions—isn’t solid enough,” Kamail said as he neatly stacked the papers back in place. “Back in our day, we used all sorts of mathematical tools to solve problems, so I adapted to this new field faster. But don’t be discouraged. Your mathematical talent is strong—better than most ordinary researchers of our time. You’ll master this soon enough.”
He sighed in admiration. “If anyone’s truly impressive, it’s your ancestor… I can hardly imagine how he mastered so much knowledge—not just a legendary knight, but also skilled in magic, runes, mathematics, even cartography…”
“I don’t know why he was so amazing either,” Rebecca scratched her head shyly, as if the praise was hers. “He was a legendary hero. Half the country’s territory was won by him!”
Kamail turned to the curious assistants around him, his mood buoyant, his whole body glowing faintly blue. “Each of us must master these new mathematical tools. I’ve already discussed it with Jenny. From now on, as long as it doesn’t interfere with research, everyone must learn calculus!”
Jenny smiled and nodded, signaling her approval. Rebecca cheered on the researchers with a bright smile. “Don’t worry, it’s not that hard! Though I haven’t fully learned it yet, I think with ten or fifteen days of study, you can get the hang of it…”
The assistants nodded uncertainly. Jenny lowered her voice to whisper to Kamail, “Does Rebecca even realize her math ability isn’t like ordinary people’s?”
“Judging by her expression, probably not…”
“I’m mostly worried these new assistants might quit once they see calculus.”
“No worries. I’ve welded the door shut.”
“?”
“That’s the Lord’s way of saying we must never back down.”
Jenny blinked, utterly confused.
Meanwhile, the very person who had unleashed the “demon” of calculus, Gawain, was completely unaware of the scene unfolding at the Rune Research Institute. He was busy discussing with Amber how to integrate the first batch of military intelligence operatives into the Cecil commercial network after their training.
Since the network had been designed with many slots for intelligence agents from the start, this task was straightforward. He just explained his ideas to Amber, and the half-elf would handle the rest.
“Our commercial network is already starting to work. Merchants across the land voluntarily send intelligence to the guild headquarters. Once professional agents join, Cecil’s eyes and ears will be fully established,” Gawain leaned back in his chair after finishing the briefing. “Help me think if there’s anything we’ve missed.”
“Missed? Is there anyone craftier than you in this world?” Amber rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I wonder if those seven-hundred-year-old legends about you are true. The stories say you’re a guy who solves problems by charging in with whirlwind slashes, but here you are, scheming better than any conspirator…”
“Legends get artistic license. Back then, we were expanding territory, and people liked to solve problems by cutting everything down. So when they said someone was powerful, they meant they could slash well. Did you know the Duke Franklin, who once killed the orc invasion’s grand marshal with a single blow, was actually better at cooking?”
“Duke Franklin? The ancestor of the Franklin family in the Western Territories?”
“Yeah. A master of the jumping cleave, he killed two legends and at least a hundred high-level supernaturals in direct combat. But his real skill was carving radishes. When he wasn’t busy, he’d practice on radishes—and then call us over to eat them. That’s why after the kingdom was founded, the four founding dukes and King Charles himself didn’t like radishes. History books never mention that.”
Amber was stunned, then suddenly realized a blind spot. “Wait, I saw you eating radishes with gusto at dinner last night.”
Gawain froze, realizing he’d spoken too freely, but quickly recovered. “I hadn’t eaten any in seven hundred years. I’m just catching up.”
Amber stroked her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm… so that’s how you catch up…”
Gawain glanced at her awkwardly, about to change the subject, when suddenly a faint ripple stirred in his mental world.
It was hard to describe—most would mistake it for a brief lapse or daydream. But Gawain caught the subtle discord immediately. It wasn’t his mind stirring; something else was connecting to it.
The Eversleepers’ psychic network!
The connection was reestablished? The Eversleepers had finally launched their public beta? Their servers were fixed? His account was back?
A flood of plausible and implausible thoughts erupted in Gawain’s mind, but he showed no sign of it. Instead, he abruptly ended the current topic and looked seriously at Amber.
“I’m going to… take a nap. Stay by my side.”
“Huh?”
(End of chapter)