Mystery: Starting with the Night Pope.

Chapter 58 Apprentice

"The only salvation..." The priest vaguely heard these words and raised his head as if in a final burst of energy.

"Yes, redemption!" Chick affirmed.

After becoming an extraordinary being, he encountered several crises that spiraled out of control, but he survived them all unscathed thanks to the presence of this piece of cake and another dark robe.

The sense of disillusionment—as if he had been to heaven, witnessed a dream, and then fallen back to earth—was so intense that it left an extremely deep impression on Chick.

That is infinitely more powerful than any prayer directed to any god, or even a prayer directed to a dream angel!

It is the power of true redemption, not the cold words recorded in grand ceremonies.

Those few times he lost control convinced him that the angel who gave him these two items must be the savior of this crazy world!

The priest tilted his head back and strained his eyes, vaguely catching a glimpse of the morbid possessiveness on Chick's face.

"You...you're blaspheming!" The priest's eyes widened suddenly.

"God saves the world, so why can't He save me?!" Chick's expression turned strange, then he felt relieved.

"We believe in the Lord not for His favor, but for our own peace!" the priest said sternly with his last strength.

"I cannot find peace; I need the salvation of dreams."

Chick's expression became pious, but even more perverse.

He carefully put away the cake in his hand, looked indifferently at the priest, and let his blood drain away.

After waiting for quite some time, a fist-sized object appeared next to the priest's body.

"This is a world where people eat each other."

Although Chick is only a Sequence 8, his understanding of the nature of this world is profound enough.

He learned a lot from just one observation while killing a monster, and he even had a strong talent for playing the role of the sequence.

He put away his special abilities and began to pray beside the corpse.

"True people, pure spirits... I beg for your gaze, I beg for your miracles..."

Chick prayed as always, dozens of times a day, making him arguably the most devout believer in the dream world.

But such prayers couldn't even pass through the screening of the dream idols and reach Truman's ears.

Although Truman takes the believers' faith lightly, as long as they can provide him with an "anchor," he must be devout to receive the dreamlike gifts.

Chick's prayers were too purposeful, even somewhat... perverse.

The dreamlike statues automatically filter out such prayers, leaving no trace.

"Has the dream stopped favoring me?"

After a long time, still receiving no response, Chick felt disappointed.

"Then I'll go to him myself!"

Chick seemed to have made up his mind. He took out the materials needed for various recipes, took out a stone jar, and began to prepare the potion under the guidance of the recipe.

Throughout this process, his expression changed several times, his hands trembled, but his attitude remained resolute.

Before long, the potion was successfully prepared.

"What step do I need to take to reach the angels?"

"If I become a 'witch,' can I...?"

Chick's Adam's apple bobbed as his own understanding crumbled under the shock, but in the end he still drank the potion in the jar in one gulp.

……

The second day of the hunt for elves in Dream City was a success. With the cooperation of several extraordinary individuals, a Sequence 7 "Storm Priest" was killed and its special ability was taken away.

But the impact of this event was far worse than Cheek's plan.

The elves have their eyes on Dreamsea City, and the Church, for the sake of protecting Dreamsea City, has also sent a large number of extraordinary beings there.

This was the beginning of a disaster, a war.

Of course, these are all minor matters, far from Truman's concern; he is arranging truly important things.

After acquiring the Pen of Alssurold, Sasriel had delegated many tasks to him.

His most pressing task now is to write various short stories to drag the various extraordinary races back into the quagmire of war.

He had done this once before, but things became a little more complicated when he was no longer with the demon race, which was known for its insane nature.

"No! I'm sick of writing this!" This story is even more complicated, with the relationships between characters from various races being all jumbled up, which is making him very uncomfortable.

He's practically writing a real history book right now, all to ensure something goes smoothly.

Writing thousands of words a day—is that a human life?

Truman only had a pen; he wasn't a real "writer."

"Shall I recommend an apprentice to you?" Sassriel thought for a moment and suggested, "He will help you finish writing the story."

"What? An apprentice?" Truman was surprised. He just complained and slacked off as usual. What kind of working person could have such a positive attitude?

But Sasriel's suggestion was truly unexpected.

"You want me to train apprentices? What do you want to do with that?" Truman blinked, becoming wary.

"I recently discovered a very promising young man. The Lord has a very high opinion of him and even gave him a surname."

Truman raised an eyebrow, as if he had realized something.

"Abraham," Sasriel said solemnly.

This surname carries a noble and sacred connotation.

To be bestowed this surname by the ancient sun god is already an immense honor.

"Abraham..." Truman was taken aback, yet it felt perfectly natural.

"He is an 'apprentice,' and I hope you can become his teacher," Sasriel said solemnly.

"Have you been waiting for me here all this time?" Truman's lips twitched, feeling like he'd been tricked.

"I hope he can receive the protection of the Dream," Sasriel said directly.

"Abraham..." Truman agreed after a moment's thought; such an apprentice would probably be quite good.

"Okay." Truman nodded. This was a man who truly deserved the name "Abraham."

Soon, a young man came up to the two of them.

The young man's face was expressionless, almost indifferent, and his azure eyes radiated an aloof clarity.

He bowed meticulously to Saslir before raising his head to look at Truman.

"Your Highness, please accept Bethel's reverence..."

When the young man saw Truman, he realized something, and even his usually expressionless and rigid face showed some excitement.

In the realm of the Creator God, Truman's status is also special, because his subjects can believe in dreams alone, a right that no other angel has.

"He is Bethel Abraham," Sussril said, looking at Truman.

Truman carefully examined the young man. He was still an "apprentice," just starting out in the hierarchy, but his future was destined to be incredibly brilliant.

"From now on, I will be your teacher, and you will be my first student." Truman's tone was quite solemn.

"Student greets teacher!" Bethel knelt down and prostrated himself, a gesture reserved only for parents in the city where Bethel grew up.

Truman sensed a certain sincerity and nodded in satisfaction.

This kid has a bit of a poker face, but he's very active inside and worth nurturing!

(End of this chapter)