"You're from the Afterglow Church?"
Max's eyes widened, brimming with anticipation.
During the Civilization Lonely Tower era, Folly's will reigned supre while Chaos's influence waned. The Afterglow Church had lost its power and declined to near irrelevance. Yet even so, it remained a pilgrimage site for Chaos followers.
But the Afterglow Church was beneath his station. Cheng Shi adopted an air of mystery:
"The Afterglow Church is a relic of the past. It doesn't deserve to be ntioned in the sa breath as ."
"You don't need to know more than this: I too am a follower of Chaos."
"Enough talk. I have more questions for you. Besides the ravings, what else do you know about this statue?"
Max turned out to know quite a lot. Under the warm glow of shared faith, he dumped every bit of information he had.
Most of it Cheng Shi already knew from passersby. But one detail was entirely new.
"You're saying the Fool-Hunting Statue was built directly on top of the first Fool Hunter's grave?"
Max nodded:
"Yes, my lord."
"Skart—the very first Fool Hunter in history—was the one who proposed the supre principle that 'Folly equals a capital offense.' He further distilled the Civilization Lonely Tower's concentration of Folly, giving Folly's armies greater combat power and sweeping away the remnants of Truth's attempted restorations and the Afterglow Church's provocations..."
At this point, Max stole a cautious glance at Cheng Shi.
"After his death, he was buried here. In his honor, the Civilization Lonely Tower erected a statue atop his grave, making it a convergence point for the masses' faith—so that he could draw nearer to their Benefactor, Folly."
"There are even rumors that Skart was elevated to Envoy long ago. People claim to have witnessed it firsthand: when criminals guilty of Knowing Folly were punished before the statue, strange waves would surge from within, drawing sothing out of those sinners."
"The townsfolk believe it's the rciful Skart stripping the folly from the guilty. But this sort of thing is hard to verify, and it hasn't happened for a very long ti."
Cheng Shi had little interest in Redi Core's history. What he really wanted to know was whether this so-called Folly Envoy actually existed.
Folly had His nose so high in the air that He looked down on every living thing in the universe. If He ever did take notice of sothing, it would probably only be That lofty Creator of the Real Universe.
Co to think of it, an interesting thought: had Cheng Shi ever wondered whether Folly disdained Origin? Did He consider Origin's Universe Slice Experint yet another foolish act?
No one could answer that question. After pondering, Cheng Shi concluded that a true Envoy probably didn't exist—but the absence of an Envoy didn't an there were no Servant-God-level creations.
According to Dragon King's theory, since Truth had the Ritual of Truth, then logically, Folly should have a similar creation.
And every mysterious aspect of the Fool-Hunting Statue pointed to it being extraordinarily close to Folly.
So was it possible that a clue to His creation was hidden here?
If so, then even if this trial didn't yield the Eye of Mockery, finding clues about Folly's creation would be a trendous gain. After all, a creation was the crystallization of an authority's power. Finding it might bring him one step closer to that authority.
Cheng Shi's heart burned with anticipation. His gaze toward the statue brimd with eager... greed.
He patted Max on the shoulder, secretly slipping a die into the corner of the man's garnt. Then, true to his word, he let Max go.
After Max reluctantly departed, Cheng Shi quietly changed positions, ducking into an alley's shadows while Shadow Cheng Shi darted through the darkness toward the statue.
The night was still, the wind calm, passersby long gone. Cheng Shi wasn't about to waste this perfect opportunity. He intended to study the statue up close and determine whether it hid a secret even greater than the Eye of Mockery.
Just as Cheng Shi began his examination, Max—now several blocks away—suddenly stopped in the middle of the road.
His expression vanished in an instant, becoming utterly blank—no joy, no sorrow. He slowly retrieved the die from his shoulder seam, examined it for a long mont, then tucked it back into place exactly as before.
Then he turned his head toward the towering statue. His eyes were unreadable.
...
On the other side.
The Torchbearer Threat Elimination Plan had collapsed.
Ji Yue genuinely could not fathom how the Fate Weaver had managed to coexist with this never-silent Silence follower for an entire day.
After barely half an hour of searching with The Prisoner, she used the edge of her spear to taphorically "cut ties," sending him off to search in a different direction with orders to signal via fire ssage if he found anything.
She'd even torn open the void for him to travel through—terrified he wouldn't get far enough away fast enough.
Initially, The Prisoner objected. He worried that if they split too far apart and Ji Yue encountered both enemies, he wouldn't make it back in ti to support her, leaving the Torchbearers' Fire Seeker in danger.
But his concern was expressed in the wrong way. To a War follower's ears, his nonstop chattering translated to:
'Can you handle it? Can you handle it? Can you handle it?'
He'd forgotten that War and Silence were rival faiths. A single doubt from an opposing faith's believer ignited Ji Yue's fury. If not for one last thread of restraint, her spear would've run him through for the second ti that night.
But the butt of her spear did send him tumbling into the void.
With no other choice, The Prisoner compromised. Before leaving, he still managed to squeeze in a parting complint:
"No wonder you can pass the torch—your fire's burning strong."
"...Get lost!"
Ji Yue didn't even know how she'd forced that word out of her throat. All she knew was that her battle spirit blazed so intensely she wanted to find soone—anyone—and unleash the fury building inside her.
And as luck would have it, shortly after The Prisoner left, a figure appeared in her line of sight.
Zhao Xishi!
The Historian wore a cold smirk, studying Ji Yue with an amused gaze:
"Bishop. When you refused , you should have expected this mont would co."
"Ready to receive news of your own death?"
"War has winners and losers. His followers don't win every ti."
"So—how would you like to die?"
Before the last word had faded, an iron fist ca hurtling straight at the Torchbearer's face. Ji Yue's eyes sharpened—she raised her spear to block—only to discover the weapon in her hands had already been obliterated without a trace.
Her pupils contracted. She ducked, but how could a mage stop a warrior at point-blank range—especially when that warrior was ranked number one on the Chosen leaderboard?
The punch caught the side of Ji Yue's face and sent her flying. But this War follower didn't choose defense even after being hit—she tore open the void and summoned countless ancient battlefield weapons back into the light of day.
Only the void didn't tear open behind her as usual. It opened behind Mo Shu—at the exact spot where she'd first encountered the enemy.
The positioning was subtle. It was far from Mo Shu but very close to Zhao Xishi.
Distant water couldn't save a nearby fire. Even if the deluge of weapons could hold Zhao Xishi, it certainly couldn't stop Mo Shu. And compared to a support Historian, the Scavenger was obviously the real lethal threat.
By all appearances, Ji Yue had made a wrong decision under the shock of being struck.
But had she really?
Not at all!
War wasn't just about fighting technique—it was about tactical deploynt.
When Zhao Xishi steeled her expression to defend against a Purgatory Bishop's wrath, she spotted sothing within that storm of spears and swords: a gleaming bald head, plumting toward her like a teor.
Her pupils shrank. She cried out in shock and fury: "The Prisoner! You didn't leave?!"
"If I left, how would I make my way into your heart?"
The Prisoner roared with laughter and cannonballed straight into Zhao Xishi's midsection.
Behind her, Ji Yue coughed blood as Oblivion's infinite power forced her steadily backward. But she looked at Mo Shu and sneered:
"Like Tian Ji racing horses—which inferior horse do you think dies first?"
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