The Zor Elves were staring at Eden, and Eden was looking back at them.
The putrid battlefield suddenly beca solemn again, as the cold crows danced chaotically in midair, their gray-black feathers falling down.
Both sides seed hesitant, as if any slight movent would lead to mutual slaughter; this was undoubtedly a ga for cowards.
After a long while, Eden spoke first:
"Who are you? Are you here to tend to the battlefield as well?"
Upon hearing this, the Zor Elf, after a mont of hesitation, nodded.
It seed the other party had no hostility, only wariness.
Eden judged in his mind.
He looked around, seeing that not much could be gleaned from the battlefield, he continued:
"Put down your bow and arrow, we have no need to harm each other."
The Zor Elf, after hearing this, lowered his bow slightly but did not completely put it down.
"Here, there’s hardly any spoils of war left, I can’t find much more."
Eden paused for a mont, then slowly said:
"I just want to find a place to stay before it gets dark now, could you point in the right direction?"
The Zor Elf, this ti without any hesitation, pointed in a direction.
It was to the southwest.
Eden nodded slightly, turned, and left the shattered battlefield.
The Zor Elf watched him go silently, his bow being raised and then lowered again.
After a while, the Zor Elf muttered to himself:
"Strange... there’s a True Believer in this place."
He had judged this from Eden’s clothing.
After the Zor Elf pointed out the direction, Eden had been walking towards that direction for nearly half the day, and it was already afternoon when, just as he thought the Zor Elf had been deceiving him, the high walls of a great city appeared on the horizon.
Eden slightly bowed his head, rembering sothing. He found a nearby forest, took off the distinct outer garnt of the True Believer from himself, folded it in his arms, and then approached the city gates. Just then, a caravan was entering the city. Seizing the opportunity, Eden blended into the servants’ group, and the guards, failing to notice an extra person in the rchants’ group, allowed Eden to enter the city smoothly.
Upon entering the city, Eden imdiately saw the distant Scripture Institute.
Undoubtedly, this was a city of Heresy; he looked carefully around and couldn’t see a True Religion church.
Here, in his own world, it should be the frontier of the Danschel Empire which took True Religion as the state religion, but not a single church could be seen here.
It wasn’t hard to guess, over ti, the Empire’s southern frontier inevitably had drawn back, while those Heretical countries had nibbled at the Empire, taking one piece after another and striving to erase any trace of the True Religion.
"I can’t be impulsive like before."
Eden reminded himself,
"Be careful, be patient, and gather more information."
The belief in new gods of the Heresy, the stone pendant in his chest, the strange tispace... all sorts of mysteries swirled before him, and the Priest knew that anger wouldn’t solve anything.
"First, I need to figure out, how far in the future this ti point is."
Eden thought to himself.
Since Priests often bore the responsibility of recording history, the best way to clarify the ti was to visit the Heretical Scripture Institute.
Having made up his mind, Eden imdiately acted, making his way without stopping to the Giant King Sect’s Scripture Institute.
Along the way, he saw old n, youths, n, won—all sorts of people heading towards the Scripture Institute; like True Religion, Heresy also had ceremonies akin to vespers.
Eden successfully blended into the crowd of those listening to scriptures and praying. Because of the large numbers of people, not everyone had the chance to enter inside the Scripture Institute; the Priest had a hard ti squeezing through the layers of people to get inside.
Once inside the Scripture Institute, Eden exhaled deeply; he looked around the hall then focused on the Assistant Priest maintaining order.
"Priest, how far in ti is it from the ascension of King of Kings to the Prophet Xilan of the True Religion?"
Eden, after hesitating for a mont, asked humbly in an inquiring manner.
The Assistant Priest, seemingly with no suspicion—for there were simply too many people and he had no ti to doubt—responded almost reflexively:
"About, about four thousand three hundred years."
Upon hearing this, Eden’s heart stirred, but his expression remained unflinching.
So this was... the future, four thousand three hundred years later?
No wonder... no wonder...
Over four thousand years, empires rise and fall, the sea turns into mulberry fields; ti was enough to erase all traces of the True Religion from this city.
With these thoughts, Eden returned to his place, and in no ti, the Main Priest of the Heretical Scripture Institute appeared before the crowd, and the noisy Scripture Institute suddenly quieted down. The Believers all bowed their heads, listening to the Scripture in silence.
"My fellow believers before I start the scripture, I want you to listen to a poem; if you glean understanding from it, you have understood the scripture,"
said the Main Priest, and two Assistant Priests then stepped forward.
They cleared their throats and recited:
"If one day, disaster strikes,
all n shall fall into despair.
n grow weary, lose hope, and suffer the tornt of others.
Only the righteous, unwearied, hopeful, willingly sink into the lake of death."
A short verse was chanted, and Eden observed that everyone present nodded their heads, the poem seemingly well-known, everyone aware of its origin, and even more aware of whom the ’righteous’ in the verse referred to.
"What is this..."
Eden thought to himself, nodding seriously.
After the poem, the Main Priest began his sermon, which had an unusual connection to the verse.
"’I saw him as a righteous man, and tested him with fire.’
You see, disasters always co, who has lived so many years without facing any calamity? Whether it be a great disaster or a minor one, it is still a calamity.
The King of Kings tests us with these, to discern whether we are re clay or precious tal. Common n panic upon seeing disaster, spending their days in constant anxiety, but how can panic prevent disasters?
The righteous are different, upon seeing disaster, they do not grow weary, they remain hopeful, willingly sinking into the lake of death. This is the act of the righteous, and for this reason, when the righteous act, they are always accompanied by power and signs."
Eden observed that the congregation was hooked by these words, raising their heads high, intently watching the Main Priest.
Power and signs...
As a Priest himself, Eden knew that the Main Priest’s words contained many phrases commonly used by True Church Priests.
Though Heresy despised the True Believers, they had adopted many of their characteristics, subtle indications showing the intricate connections between the two.
"Righteous n and won, regardless of gender, race, or origin, you may want to ask, exactly what power and signs? Take the righteous man in the poem, for instance, born lowly, and his race much discriminated by many, yes, by our very own ancestors, the race they particularly discriminated against."
The Main Priest skilfully piqued people’s curiosity, providing a superb delivery of the sermon, and Eden noticed that the na of the righteous man was almost on the lips of the congregation.
Eden listened with a grave expression, ears erect.
"Everyone knows, the righteous man is called Timian."
Eden was montarily stunned.
Everyone nodded, led by the Main Priest, they instinctively and excitedly recited the poem, the Scripture Institute instantly plunged into a sea of faith.
Eden’s lips quivered, his hands also trembled.
Perhaps... perhaps it’s just a coincidence.
Thinking this, Eden cald down a bit,
There’s no way it’s such a coincidence...
Just as the thought settled in his mind, the Main Priest raised his hand and declared in a revealing tone:
"Power and signs, the righteous man, while suffering alone, encountered the King of Kings arranged power and signs.
Do you understand, a complete stranger, in the view of all, stepped forward to feed the righteous man and attend to his needs!
This is so ordinary, so insignificant, yet this is the power and signs!"
The Main Priest proclaid loudly, and the congregation erupted into shouts of praise, prayers, and chanting, passion for the faith swirling and boiling.
In that sea-like noise, Eden stood still, like a puppet, his expression a mix of surprise and awkwardness, starting to clap.
Long after, amidst the overwhelming noise, Eden finally ca to his senses, murmuring in disbelief:
"Have I... changed the future?!"
In the fervent crowd, no one heard this faint voice.
...
Eden slowly regained his composure, by which ti the Main Priest’s sermon had ended, and the people were praying in unison.
The Priest took a breath, and while no one was watching, he slowly walked out of the Scripture Institute, almost stumbling down the steps.
"What in the world... what in the world..."
No matter how much he reflected, Eden found it incredible.
Who could imagine, a compassionate, unintended act of his could bring a well-known poem to Heresy and be used by Heresy’s Priest to interpret the Scripture, becoming part of myth and legend.
Thinking this, Eden’s first reaction was not excitent, but an indescribable guilt.
"Lord, forgive ."
Muttering so, Eden suddenly questioned himself,
"Forgive, forgive for what?
Did I do sothing wrong, I rely showed compassion—Isn’t compassion a virtue in the Scripture, isn’t it God’s will?"
Thinking this, Eden’s guilt dissipated, he turned his head, gazing back at the Heresy Scripture Institute.
It was necessary... to reevaluate and plan anew.
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