The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1141 Ch.1140 The Mirror of Omniscience
The small sanatorium next to the church is specifically for those whose injuries are not serious or who are not believers in God the Father, but who have certain identities that are difficult to refuse.

The villas, though not large, are surrounded by luxuriously decorated buildings, filled with a slightly pungent aromatherapy scent. Occasionally, the sound of a piano drifts into your ears, and with each step on the marble floor, the soles of your lambskin boots are reflected in a mirror-like surface.

After passing through an open-air corridor with cascading flower branches on both sides, an old man in a linen robe sat on a bench scattered among the flowerbeds.

Several pigeons landed on the roof of the pear tree shed behind him.

Sender paused, then immediately changed direction.

“When I was young, they all said, ‘Gary, son of nature, Gary, born a saint, you are going to do something most sacred and great!’”

The old man opened his palm.

The pigeons descended from the roof of the shed to peck at the millet in his palm.

Some landed on his shoulders, on his head, and even flapped their wings across his cheeks.

The sunlight was warm, and his hair and beard had turned white.

He laughed like a child.

"You do have that talent."

After thinking for a moment, Shandel walked over to him.

The pigeons watched coldly.

The pigeons didn't like her.

“Actually, the real talent is you, my child. When I was your age, I hadn’t even managed to get close to the second ring road…” Gary Kratofer said, barefoot, his toes buried in the soft soil.

Mischievous children often do this.

“But you touched something else, like my mother’s…” Cinder smiled, looking at the face that was faintly changing color, and felt a sense of dryness in her heart: she was already tired of 'grandfather', but ever since she met Roland, this man had turned the ship around and was getting closer and closer to her.

She didn't like his face.

Their relationship shouldn't allow them to see each other often.

"The rat infestation is over."

Gary Kratofer dusted his hands off and showed them to the flock of pigeons: No.

"It's obvious."

Sender casually added a comment.

"But the three artifacts that were supposed to be handed over to the Council of Truth 'disappeared'... right after the rat plague broke out. Sender, do you know where they went?"

Gary Kratofer looked at his daughter.

Those faded, grayish blue eyes held a newfound scrutiny and warning.

Ask questions with the answers in mind.

A perfectly timed look of doubt appeared on Xander's unusually youthful face: "I'm afraid it's not my responsibility to guard the area, Your Excellency the Bishop."

“Cindy,” Gary Kratofer said in a low voice, “they are dangerous.”

“No artifact is without danger, Your Excellency. Every apprentice is told to use these cursed items with caution and care before becoming a ritualist… Shall we repeat our apprenticeship lessons?”

The old bishop straightened his linen robe.

The roughness that reached his skin made him restless.

He thought that having served God the Father for so long, his heart, as pure as water and mist, was already capable of raising a golden cup in the morning and tending the fields in the evening—but the truth was quite the opposite.

The coarse gray robe that once suited him and excited him in his youth now seemed so unsuitable.

He longed for the boy's skin-soft satin, his perceptive servants, his devoutly bowed head, and his lofty words that lifted him up in turn.

He was somewhat disappointed in himself.

It only lasted a few seconds.

“That’s dangerous, Cindy. I’ll say it again: those things aren’t for you, for your little ones—there’s a curse on the petals that we haven’t figured out yet.”

He observed Xander's expression as he spoke.

He knew exactly what kind of monster his daughter was.

Obviously.

It's not a flower petal.

"Dolls and music boxes won't work either."

Gary Kratofer couldn't figure out what the curse on the petals meant, much less 'read' the hidden text or rituals. But dolls and music boxes are different.

The price of these two wondrous items is crystal clear.

"The former will gradually turn the user into a 'puppet' with repeated use. The music box will cause the holder to age rapidly... You don't need such a dangerous thing, Cindy."

With his hands behind his back, Shandel looked up at the birds preening their feathers on the roof of the pear tree shed.

"Your Excellency the Bishop."

"Cindy?" "If you had a choice, would you go back in time and kill yourself?"

Gary Kratofer remained silent.

He understood what Cinder meant: if he went back in time and killed himself, she would never have been born.

“I think if you had such an opportunity, you would use it to eliminate my mother… or me? What are you afraid of? Father? I’m very confused.”

The old man buried his head in his hands.

He roughly rubbed his face a few times.

"You are a mistake, Cindy."

Perhaps this innocent "father" opened a crack in Gary Kratofer's heart.

He rarely confided a secret to his daughter.

"I have seen the 'Mirror of Omniscience'."

A sudden breeze made the tips of the grass and trees sway.

The flock of pigeons flapped their wings and left the pear tree shed.

"So you're going to follow the instructions of that stupid mirror?" Shandel found the whole thing ridiculous.

She loathed Gary Kratofer and knew he loathed her—not just loathing, but in some situations, he even wished he could die 'accidentally' in a crash.

at first.

Sender thought it was the 'qualities' she possessed.

Evil thoughts.

As the most hypocritical and shameless bishop of the Holy Cross, he naturally did not want her existence to ruin all the enjoyment he currently had—whether tangible or intangible.

One's own existence is undoubtedly dangerous and conspicuous.

But today, she finally got the answer, yet she couldn't be happy at all.

What kind of answer is this?
Another prophecy?

From Enid to Gary Kratofer, what's going on with these guys?

"Once you reach the Fourth Ring and join the ranks of the High Ring Ritualists, Cindy, you will be able to vaguely glimpse the pulse of the world—whether you believe it or not, we will always move forward along the path predetermined by fate..."

Gary Kratofer looked up and met the same blue eyes of the younger man.

"I can't let you destroy this world..."

Xander paused, stunned. "What did you say?"

It's ruined...

this world?

Who?
“The Mirror of Omniscience has never made a mistake, Cindy,” Gary Kratofer shook his head. “I used to think the starting point was ‘you.’ Now it seems I was wrong…”

It must be said that sending his daughter to court was a brilliant move.

A bomb about to burst, and a group of swordsmen he didn't like, who shared the same beliefs but had different understandings.

Under the watchful eyes of those holy flames, if Shandel Kratofer were to show even the slightest sign of distortion, she would likely die 'accidentally' on some mission within a few months—and perhaps, this bomb would even wound the barbarians.

Kill two birds with one stone.

He never concealed his malice from Sandel, and Sandel, in turn, understood and obeyed his arrangements.

The father and daughter both knew the truth.

But now.

Gary Kratofer was surprised by his daughter's 'health'.

She not only avoided conflicts with the executive officer and Enid Jutia, but also never concealed her ever-growing 'qualifications'—how did she survive in the courtroom?
Even like a fish in water?

Fernandez de Winson is not a fool.

If we analyze it this way, there is only one reason: Shandel Kratoff, her daughter is not the 'center'.

If the Mirror of Omniscience cannot err, then the problem lies in its judgment.

and so…

Roland Collins?
Fernandez de Winson?
That Shelley?

or…

Enid Judith?

The path of Holy Flame is indeed not 'stable' enough.

Looking at his daughter's obedient and compliant face, Gary Kratofer wished he could grow eagle claws and tear off that hypocritical mask.

(End of this chapter)