Ice Vapor Goddess

Chapter 2 The Northern Throne

Siren walked through the cinder road, which was filled with yellowish-green mist and resembled a bowl of thick pea soup, and returned to his residence next to the church.

The room was filled with the smell of everyday life—clothes and stockings were scattered everywhere, and the bed was messy. Only the wardrobe was relatively tidy, after all, Father Delrant was always a gentle and upright good man in front of outsiders.

After clearing a space where he could stand, Xiren changed into a purple shirt, a black robe and shawl embroidered with purple trim, tied a purple silk sash around his waist, and put on a ring engraved with the Latin phrase "Sub Cruce Vigilo" (I watch over the cross).

The original owner may not have been happy to become the Bishop of Speyer, but Siron was very happy about it.

The people in Lundin are numerous and intriguing, and they are all acquaintances of Sirion. It's easy to slip up unnoticed.

Although the North is bitterly cold, it doesn't stop him from having a chance to fully display his talents!
Although in his previous life he was just a liberal arts student who graduated with a philosophy degree but couldn't find a job and taught himself to become a clinical psychoanalyst, he still fantasized about taking Earth's technology to another world to climb the technology tree and do something that would shock the people of that other world.

But before that, he needed to confirm one more thing—

Upon spotting the large black rat that suddenly darted out from the corner, Siron immediately gripped the cross at his breast and quickly recited, "You shall not pass over it!" (Job 38:11)

Golden wisps of light and blurry, tiny images appeared behind Xilun, and the rat immediately crashed into a transparent wall, flying backward several centimeters before collapsing unconscious on the ground.

Xilun felt the warm current flowing through his body and smiled with relief.

Fortunately, I didn't lose the power to use divine magic because I don't believe in God—although the original owner wasn't much of a believer either.

Then he said to the mouse, "Jehovah Rapha!"

This is a spell from the Book of Exodus, meaning "The Lord is my healer."

A few seconds later, the mouse shook its tail, got up from the ground, and quickly ran away.

Xilun sat down on the sofa with satisfaction.

He currently possesses six divine spells in total. In addition to [Holy Healing], which allows for rapid recovery from injuries, and [Stop], which creates an invisible wall, there are also [Exorcism], [Hymn Chanting], [Radiance], and [Pain Soothing].

“It doesn’t seem very strong…” Xilun thought for a moment, but it wasn’t his problem. In his memory, even his mentor couldn’t form an army by himself. The Church mainly relied on special resources and rune mechanical technology.

The armor worn by Senior Brother Anthony is the "Holy Armor" developed by the Church, and these knights are called "Iron Angels".

Unfortunately, he failed the physical test back then and could not pursue a career in the military. He could only study theology at the University of Florence. However, in general opinion, this was definitely a more promising path than joining the Iron Angels, because the cardinals could not defeat the Iron Angels, but they could command them.

The time on his wristwatch had already turned to six o'clock in the evening. The sun was gradually sinking into the Windington River. The clouds and the cargo ships with their sails lowered were urging him to hurry up. So, Siron pushed his already packed suitcase and hurriedly boarded the public carriage at the door.

The original owner of the body had already made preparations for leaving. His brass and leather suitcase contained his bank credit card, passbooks and deposit slips, some cash, clothes for each season, and a toiletries set.

On the cobblestone road teeming with carriages and horses, a bishop's robe drew the attention of passersby. When Siron boarded the carriage, the people inside were surprised that "such a distinguished person" would take a public carriage. Since the first carriage was already full, Siron climbed up on all fours. A lady wanted to leave the carriage to offer the bishop her seat, but Siron resolutely refused. Then, panting, she carried her suitcase to the top of the carriage to enjoy the breeze.

The worker next to him, wearing a rough brown shirt, tried to say something, but his face turned red and he couldn't get a word out. Instead, Xilun started chatting with him, asking where he lived, how much he earned, what the factory environment was like, and how many children he had.

The golden rays of the setting sun spilled over the Windington River and the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral. Countless chimneys, like giant pipe organs, played hymns to the prosperous empire. Airships displayed advertisements for the World's Fair, and the Parliament building was brightly lit on the massive steam-powered gear structure... Xiren really wanted to experience the charm of the world's most bustling city.

But the train was already roaring on the tracks, the white train belonging to the church heading towards the northern wilderness, and the knight paced anxiously, waiting for the arrival of the new bishop.

"I'll come back to check it out later," Xiren thought to himself.

But he could never have imagined that this scene would become eternal in his heart and the hearts of many others. It was the last silhouette of the former empire, a golden age that could never be returned to, a memory that people would forever cherish but could never touch for the next thousand years.
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The Northern Holy See train crawls along the black tracks like a white, earthly serpent, its steam specks tinged with red—representing the Church's precious, exclusive fuel, mercury.

A knight clad in white plate armor stood outside the carriage, glancing at his watch and then at the clock in the subway station.

"Five minutes left," he said, knocking on the train conductor's window beside him. "We'll leave when it's time."

"Aren't we waiting for the bishop?" the train conductor asked hesitantly.

"No, we won't wait," the knight said coldly.

“Okay.” The train conductor shrugged through the transparent glass.

The knight glanced at the station clock, adjusted the hands of his wristwatch again, and wound it up fully to ensure that every second was perfectly synchronized. His steps were also in sync with the second hand, and he even precisely crossed the gap between the two paving stones with each step.

"out--"

"--etc!"

Sweating profusely, Xilun squeezed through the crowd, pushing his huge brown suitcase, and quickly walked a few steps to the train.

“You’re late, Mr. Delland.” The knight’s expression turned displeased. “Were you delayed in bed with some mistress? This isn’t the Middle Ages anymore; your reputation is utterly disgracing us…”

"Sorry—I mean sorry." Siren smiled sheepishly and patted the knight on the shoulder.

The knight's expression stiffened for a moment, then relaxed considerably. It was the first time he had ever seen a bishop apologize to a captain of the guard, even though this Bishop Delland was known for his arrogance and disdain for his servants.

Xilun put the luggage in the car and watched the rider's precise steps, even gripping the door handle precisely in the middle of the two welded points.

“I haven’t told you your name yet, Mr. Knight,” he said with a smile, glancing at the station clock. “Don’t worry, this train will cross 0.025° of longitude eastward to Speyside, arriving exactly 6 seconds ahead of schedule.”

(End of this chapter)