Chapter 668: Guesses and Clues

Hearing Ophelia’s words, Gawain raised an eyebrow. “Female clerics in an awkward position? What’s going on?”

“After the city defense battle ended, the church’s original order of paladins and combat clerics suffered heavy losses. They’re currently undergoing reorganization and restructuring. The High Patriarch plans to convert those who pass the assessments into White Knights. But there’s a problem… female clerics and female knights don’t seem to adapt well to the White Knights’… style and equipment.”

“Also, as far as I know, the main clerics in the southern church are composed of White Knight battalions. Of course, they’re powerful warriors of the Holy Light and very reliable on the battlefield. But as the church’s face to the people, their style is a bit…” Ophelia hesitated here. Even with her millennia of experience as a Renegade, she seemed conflicted, but she pressed on: “They’re not very approachable. We tried reopening the confessionals in the church district, staffed by White Knights on rotation, hoping to help the people relieve the stress after the war. But there was almost no response.”

Gawain had a pretty good idea of what was going on.

Ophelia sighed, sounding helpless. “To be honest, people who go to the confessionals worry that once they reveal their sins, the White Knights inside might jump out and beat them to death—though we all know that’s impossible.”

Gawain couldn’t help but rub his forehead.

This was a real problem—though it was unclear exactly where it originated (probably related to the High Patriarch’s personal style). Since the restructuring, the Southern Holy Light Church had taken a path of no return. It was organized as a “religious military order.” While there were still ordinary clerics and nuns, the main structure consisted of White Knight battalions and “mechanical monks” who supported the auxiliary units. This militarized organization, combined with the administrative bureau’s control, ensured the southern church’s high degree of loyalty and control. But on the other hand…

Something was off about its style.

During the war in the southern territories, this church structure wasn’t much of an issue. But the overly rigid and cold White Knights naturally lacked “affinity” with the common folk, which became a glaring weakness in the current situation.

And the other point Ophelia raised was also true: the current White Knight armor isn’t suitable for female clergy. It needs to be redesigned.

Even ignoring all these issues, properly accommodating female clerics during the church’s restructuring was essential. And in this regard, Gawain doubted that Light had much experience. So if Ophelia wanted to implement any measures, naturally she would come to him for advice.

“If the northern church is going to restructure, that includes all clerics and monks. Go tally the number of female combat and administrative clerics, and work with Light to come up with a new organizational and management plan. Submit the proposal to me for review. I’ll also arrange for the research department to start developing equipment suitable for female clerics as soon as possible.”

“Thank you for your understanding,” Ophelia bowed her head in gratitude. “Other than that, I have no further questions.”

Gawain nodded. “That’s all for today.”

Ophelia stood up, and before leaving the study, she glanced briefly at the nearby bookshelf, smiled faintly, and nodded.

As soon as she left, the air beside the bookshelf shimmered and twisted. Amber’s figure suddenly leapt out, excitedly shouting, “She really saw me!”

“You can’t sneak past her. Didn’t you know that already?” Gawain looked at the half-elf. “We both noticed you the moment you came in. But I’m honestly a bit surprised you stayed quietly by the side for so long.”

“I was just curious about what you were talking about,” Amber waved her hands. “Besides, I’m the head of military intelligence, you know. I know when to butt in and when to stay quiet.”

As she spoke, a look of awe crossed the half-elf’s face. “But honestly… the inside information is amazing. Their knowledge and research about the gods is a bit scary. Halfway through listening, I almost regretted eavesdropping. Veronica didn’t mind saying all that in front of me, so it seems she genuinely wants to cooperate.”

Gawain looked at Amber, who was pretending to regret listening but clearly didn’t care. He couldn’t help but ask, “After learning the secrets about the gods and the Renegade plan, didn’t it affect you? I remember you said you’re a follower of the Shadow Goddess?”

“First of all, I’m not just claiming that—I really believe,” Amber insisted. “And I’m not an ordinary follower—I’m a Chosen. Don’t doubt it, I really am!” She emphasized this, then pouted and lowered her voice. “Honestly, it’s not like I wasn’t moved. I don’t believe the goddess’s realm is some terrible place, nor that she truly harbors malice toward humans… I’ve talked to her. She’s a gentle deity. She even taught me how to cook. How could she be like Veronica said?”

Gawain was stunned when Amber said the goddess taught her to cook. He immediately suspected her claim of being a Chosen was a bluff. But then he recalled everything he’d learned about this half-elf over time. Seeing how naturally she spoke about these things, with no hint of boasting, he began to doubt himself—

Could she actually be telling the truth? Or at least, truly believe it herself…

But how could that be? This world did have followers of the Shadow Goddess, though their faith was unusual. They didn’t hold large gatherings or have churches, but there were some high-ranking clerics and devotees of the shadow realm. None of them ever said the Shadow Goddess taught people to cook… What kind of god would do that?

“I’m starting to doubt what exactly you believe in,” Gawain frowned. “So what do you think now?”

“…I want to ask the goddess myself, hear her explanation in person,” Amber’s expression turned serious as she spoke deliberately. “Next time I meet a high-ranking shadow follower, I’ll look for clues from them. In any case, without solid evidence, I can’t fully trust what Veronica says.”

She quickly added, “Of course, I believe most of what she says is true, or at least based on facts. The other gods are probably as dangerous as she claims—but the Shadow Goddess definitely isn’t!”

Seeing Amber’s firm conviction, Gawain finally realized something: this half-elf really does believe in the Shadow Goddess—not just casually because it’s convenient.

But her usual behavior never gave any hint of faith.

This left Gawain deeply conflicted.

He took a deep breath to calm himself and said gravely, “I respect your faith. But regardless, our current cooperation with the Renegades is necessary. In the long run, we must prepare for the dark future Veronica described. I don’t want internal divisions or misunderstandings on this point.”

“I understand,” Amber nodded, her ears perking up slightly from their usual droop. “Anyway, Veronica’s goal now is just to shift human faith. I’m the Shadow Chosen; my faith won’t be affected by that. And if the worst really comes to pass… then it just proves she was right, and I won’t hesitate.”

Just as Gawain knew, when it came to serious matters, this half-elf was always clear-headed.

Renegades and gods…

Gawain sighed inwardly. The information he’d heard today from Veronica/Ophelia stirred waves in his heart once again.

What kind of beings were these gods that truly existed in this world? Were they protectors of the world, or were they waiting for its destruction?

Even the Renegades couldn’t explain the gods’ contradictory nature, their chaotic yet sometimes rational and biased behavior. They could only prepare, day after day, for the moment the gods might reveal their malice.

Gawain had his own theory about the true nature of the gods:

Perhaps these powerful beings were too far beyond mortal understanding. They could no longer be judged by simple notions of “good and evil,” which were just concepts mortals created within their limited cognition.

Maybe the gods operated under a higher, more incomprehensible logic. Their acts of protecting or destroying the world had nothing to do with good or evil, but other reasons.

The second possibility was even more chilling and unsettling:

Could the gods be mad?

Or rather, were they beings who periodically fell into madness—at some specific “doomsday moment,” all the gods uncontrollably descended into insanity?

Those two legendary heroes who crossed the rift and returned half-mad left behind the words: “This is a countdown.” Perhaps they meant the countdown to the gods maintaining their sanity…

If that second possibility was true, then Veronica’s cautious efforts to reform the Holy Light Church and shield the “worldly bridge” without alarming the gods might be utterly pointless. Whether the gods unleash the apocalypse wouldn’t depend on whether the Renegades disturbed them, but on a countdown.

A countdown no one knew the exact length of, ticking down somewhere, possibly right now.

The magical storms were unpredictable and devastating, but at least the surveillance satellites in orbit could provide some warning. But if this countdown to sanity really existed… Gawain had no way to foresee it.

At that moment, Amber’s voice beside him pulled him from his thoughts. “Old Dumpling… your expression is kind of scary.”

Gawain looked up, pushing aside the tangled thoughts. “No… it’s nothing. Let’s not talk about that now. What about you? What brings you here?”

Amber hesitated, then revealed her original purpose for coming today. “I found a lead.”

“A lead?” At first Gawain didn’t react, but then he understood. “You found a lead on Sarilundolf?”

“He was a royal shadow guard, personally knighted by Francis II, holding a secret noble title. That’s why he had a noble rank but wasn’t on the official noble registry,” Amber said, deciding to lay it all out. “His last mission was to search the Dark Mountains for clues about the Gondor legacy. The reason he stayed in the southern territories and became a thief was because he defected.”

Gawain: “…”

“Wait, that’s a lot of info. I need to organize it,” Gawain rubbed his temple, muttering, “Why is it always big info dumps on days like this…”

“This is the material I found. You can look it over while sorting it out,” Amber said, pulling out the registry and dossier she’d gotten from the Raven’s hand. “I’ve confirmed it’s my foster father. The name and appearance match.”

Gawain took the documents and carefully flipped through them. There wasn’t much content. Skipping Sarilundolf’s early years, the rest could be read in a few minutes. As he read, he asked, “Did he ever tell you about his past identity and experiences?”

“No, I always thought he was a native of the southern region, just a lousy little thief… But now that I think about it, his nose was quite prominent, and his eyes were a bit lighter in color—that’s actually a northern trait…”

“This country is narrow from north to south, and the differences between northern and southern people are subtle. You were just a child back then, so it’s understandable you couldn’t tell. Besides, given his status as a deserter from the Shadow Guard, it wouldn’t have been appropriate to explain that to an innocent kid,” Gawain said, quickly finishing the review of the documents and setting them aside. “He defected during a mission to the Dark Mountains to seek the legacy of Gondor. That’s a lead… Could it be that he was after the Rebellion Fortress?”

“I don’t know, and I can’t make sense of it either. Even if he was really searching for the Rebellion Fortress, what could possibly be worth defecting over?”

“Exactly…” Gawain folded his hands, resting his chin on them, his tone heavy. “That’s a real mystery…”

(End of chapter)