Mystery: The Undead Don't Die from Linking the Fire

Chapter 186 The Lord Cares Very Much

January 5th, 9:1 AM, Wednesday.

Klein, with a gray scarf wrapped around his neck, arrived at Rose Pier carrying a suitcase and a cane.

The White Agate was anchored there, exceptionally large relative to human size, reportedly capable of carrying hundreds of passengers. It possessed a distinct character of its era, with smokestacks and sails standing side by side, and twelve cannons and corresponding gun emplacements on each side of the hull—essential for defense against pirates and fellow travelers.

Under Captain Ellankag's arrangement, the selected strong sailors and crew lined up at the gangway, some even deliberately displaying their legal revolvers, rifles, and sabers. This gave the passengers boarding the ship a greater sense of security, and they were no longer afraid of the nine-day journey ahead.

Klein stood below, looked up, and walked up the suspended ladder into the undulating blue sea.

As soon as he stepped onto the deck, before he could even enter the cabin, Klein caught a glimpse of a woman standing alone on the deck, separate from the crowd.

She had long, waist-length, naturally flowing chestnut hair, wore an olive green dress, and an old-fashioned black soft hat with a thin, checkered veil draped over her face. Although her features were obscured, her graceful figure suggested she was an exceptionally beautiful woman.

But whether it was just his imagination or not, Klein always felt that she seemed to be observing him on purpose.

The thought had barely crossed Klein's mind when he saw the other person leave the deck and enter the cabin.

"I'm probably overthinking it."

Klein shook his head, not dwelling on it too much.

He probably read too much of Russell's diary, which led him to have such a far-fetched idea.

Meanwhile, a woman with chestnut-brown, waist-length hair had already entered the cabin, specifically the top-class first-class cabin, room 310.

First class is the best cabin on the ship. It has a living room of about 30 square meters, which connects to a master bedroom and three servant rooms. It has a separate bathroom, a standard wardrobe, and a desk made of mahogany.

The woman sat down on the sofa in the living room, leaving a noticeable dent in the soft cushions.

On the lady's shoulder, a small blue doll wearing a pointed hat quietly flew out and sat down on the edge of the coffee table.

Bernadette looked at the petite doll before her and asked softly:

Why are you paying attention to him?

The petite doll tilted her head back, revealing her eyes beneath her pointed hat, and calmly said:

"He is blessed by the golden tree, but he is not the faded one, nor is this a borderland."

Bernadette didn't know what the Faded Ones were, nor did she know about the Borderlands, but she still understood and whispered:

"His name is Gehrman Sparrow, but that's a false identity. Is he related to the king?"

The petite doll clasped her hands together, fingertips pressed together, and calmly said:

"The king trusts him."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Just observe."

Bernadette nodded slightly; they had not originally planned to go to sea on this ship.

She only bought the ticket from a generous lady because she happened to meet Gehrman Sparrow along the way. As for Gehrman Sparrow's true identity, it wasn't difficult to find out. After all, that identity was a forgery by Bernadette.

-

Backlund, North District.

Yu Jin arrived at Pesfield Street in the North District by carriage.

Here stands a pure black church, flanked by two bell towers, creating a symmetrical aesthetic. This is the headquarters of the Church of the Goddess of Night in Backlund, the Church of St. Samuel.

Without being teleported, Yu Jin stepped into the church, walked through the quiet corridors, and, unusually in winter, into the large prayer hall, bathed in sunlight piercing through the stained glass windows. The dim light here instantly brought a sense of peace. Believers sat in rows of black, backed chairs, intently praying to the goddess with their eyes closed.

Time passed slowly. After listening to the sermon, the believers slowly rose, walked to the altar, bowed to the bishop with short black hair, and then went to the offering box next to him to put in the prepared cash.

This is not a forced act, but it has become a custom. And believers are happy to donate to the church, as it makes them feel that they are devout enough. However, the amount of donations varies from class to class: commoners donate a few pence each time, the middle class three to five sols, and the wealthy and nobles donate in gold pounds.

This is based on family circumstances and is also a symbol of class and status. Therefore, the middle class and the wealthy are usually happy to donate more money to show that they belong to a different class from ordinary people.

But Ember was not a believer in the goddess and had no intention of donating money.

So he just sat there, quietly watching the believers line up to donate, and then leave the church.

As time went by, even the bishop with short black hair had left, leaving only Ember in the church.

But soon, another figure emerged from the door at the back of the Great Prayer Hall.

He was an old man, dressed in a black and red clergy robe, with a clean-shaven face and deep-set eyes; he was none other than Archbishop St. Anthony.

St. Anthony walked to the same row of seats as the embers, sat down next to them, and smiled as if chatting with a friend:

"Lord of the Favored Ones, you seem to need help?"

Archbishop St. Anthony could sense the embers' confusion—a sense of helplessness, a loss of direction and motivation. He had seen many like them, most of whom had found their lives in disarray due to family or career setbacks. They came to the church, bewildered and seeking confession and guidance, unsure of what to do.

Of course, this is just a metaphor.

Saint Anthony could clearly sense that Ember was different from the others; he was somewhat confused, but not lost. This was undoubtedly contradictory, and it surprised and puzzled Saint Anthony, who didn't know what the Favored One wanted, or what he was searching for.

The embers gazed at the altar, where the bright sunlight pierced through the stained glass, casting pure and faint highlights that connected with the almost nighttime surroundings. The interplay of light and shadow transformed into a sublime starry sky.

He suddenly asked:

"Archbishop Anthony, is it permissible for outsiders to enter the world of church painting?"

"sure."

Archbishop St. Anthony smiled and nodded. "Just as I said a long time ago, you can enter the world of church paintings at any time. No additional application is needed; I will inform the church in advance."

"No."

Ember shook his head slightly and slowly said, "I'm referring to the world of paintings from other churches."

Archbishop St. Anthony paused for a moment, then immediately realized that Ember still did not want to enter the world of paintings held by the Church at this time.

Apart from the Church, other factions possess a total of five paintings, belonging to the three major orthodox churches: the Church of the Earth Mother Goddess, the Church of Steam and Machinery, and the Church of the God of Knowledge and Wisdom, as well as the two secret organizations: the Aurora Society and the Dawn of Elements.

Saint Anthony fell silent, somewhat puzzled, but quickly gave a reply, saying slowly:

"I will try to contact other churches, but if Your Excellency wishes to enter the painting worlds held by other forces, I suggest starting with the Dawn of Elements."

"Elemental Dawn?"

Ember withdrew his gaze from the altar, and asked in surprise, "Why?"

Among the forces that possess the world of painting, Element Dawn is undoubtedly the weakest. Even within the secret organizations, Element Dawn's strength is among the lowest.

After all, the organization was originally established to fight against the Morse Order. They possess the Hermit Path and the Wheel of Fortune Path, blending elements from various schools of mysticism, and have their own set of theories. Their members are all skilled in spellcasting and have mastered many ancient witchcrafts—but they have no god of their own.

This also means that members of this organization will not and cannot receive divine protection, and recruiting members will be extremely difficult.

But precisely because of this, this organization is remarkably low-profile compared to clandestine groups like the Aurora Society. Since they have no god of faith, they have no need to spread their belief or recruit followers, and they rarely interact with other organizations. This has led many to have never even heard of the "Elements Dawn."

But Ember wanted to enter the world of paintings, not steal them. As for obscure organizations like the Dawn of Elements, Ember didn't even know who the members were or where they were, so he couldn't contact them or enter the world of paintings they possessed.

In comparison, even the Aurora Club is easier to enter than the Dawn of Elements painting world.

However, he had already visited the world of painting by the Aurora Society once, so the other three major orthodox churches should be his first choice.

Archbishop St. Anthony explained with a smile:

"Your Excellency, you should remember Bernadette Gustav, who was the founder of the Dawn of Elements."

A knowing glint flashed in Yu Jin's eyes.

Since Bernadette is the founder of the Elemental Dawn, she must know the location of the painted world controlled by the Elemental Dawn perfectly well. Asking her for help would undoubtedly be the quickest way, but unfortunately, that's not possible. Because she has already repaid the favor during the Backlund Smog incident, she doesn't owe Ember anything.

After a two-second pause, Ember slowly spoke:

"Let's start with the Church of the True God."

"Can."

Archbishop St. Anthony nodded slightly, offering no advice on Yu Jin's decision, and smiled, "I will contact the leaders of other churches. Please be patient and wait for a while. I will inform you as soon as there is a result."

Although the world of paintings is one of the foundations of the Orthodox Church and is usually kept in the sanctuaries of various Orthodox churches, it is not entirely inaccessible to outsiders. In particular, negotiating with the Church of the Night, which is also an Orthodox church, is not a difficult matter.

Of course, even the orthodox church has to consider the people involved—

For example, if the Church of the Eternal Sun and the Church of the Storm were to negotiate with the painting world held by the Church of the God of Knowledge and Wisdom, they would definitely be driven out directly by the Church of the God of Knowledge and Wisdom.

After all, these three churches have always been at odds, and they could easily come to blows just by meeting. Otherwise, they wouldn't belong to three different countries and remain completely estranged.

"it is good."

Ember slowly stood up, extended his hand to Archbishop Anthony, and said softly, "Goodbye, Archbishop Anthony."

Archbishop St. Anthony smiled and extended his hand to shake his.

"goodbye."

-

In a secluded house in Queens Backlund.

In the spacious, temple-like basement of the house, a few candles flickered with yellowish flames, illuminating the altar, chairs, round table, and a nearly 3-meter-tall statue placed around it. It was a person hanging upside down, with their legs bound by chains. This upside-down figure had the giant's distinctive vertical single eye, and their arms were outstretched, forming a cross.

Mr. A, dressed in a hooded black robe, knelt before the statue, whispering something devoutly from the shadows.

At the edge of the light, in the darkest place, a figure appeared and disappeared, sometimes swaying, sometimes stretching, a thin layer with no thickness, like a shadow that had come to life.

"The Dark Saint".

Mr. A sensed the arrival of the person and respectfully lowered his head.

The Dark Saint's gaze shifted downwards, landing on Mr. A, who was kneeling before the statue, and he said in a low voice:

"You did a great job."

Mr. A's expression suddenly turned fanatical, and he raised his hands high:

"Praise be to my Lord!"

The Dark Saint watched silently as Mr. A finished his prayer before asking:

"Has anything happened recently?"

"no."

Mr. A thought for a moment, then shook his head and said, "Ever since the assassination of George III, when the royal family cut off all contact with us, they have stopped communicating with us. I also secretly sneaked into that site, but I found nothing. It was as if the site had vanished into thin air, leaving no trace."

"In addition, the Sage of Mystery has sent messages multiple times, demanding accountability for Mr. X's death."

The Dark Saint's expression remained unchanged, and he said indifferently:

"Ignore him. They crossed the line themselves. Even if they die, it's not our fault. If he comes to question us again, tell him to come to me, and I'll explain to him personally. Besides, don't cut off contact with them. They might need us next time."

He paused for a second, then slowly said, "This is the Lord's instruction."

Although the Saint of Mystery and the Saint of Darkness are both demigods of the Aurora Society, and there is no friction between them, on the contrary, they have had several collaborations that both sides are quite satisfied with, when it comes to matters involving the 'Lord,' neither of them has to take a back seat.

Mr. X himself came to Backlund without permission and crossed the border to hunt down members of the Abraham family, which was already a violation of the rules.

Besides, he's involved with that side; even if he dies, it'll be for nothing—

Even if he doesn't die, the Dark Saint will personally kill him to avoid delaying the Lord's grand plan because of him.

After a moment's thought, the Dark Saint suddenly emerged from the shadows and took out a framed painting covered with a black cloth, handing it to Mr. A and instructing him:

"This is the new entrance. If they contact us again, we can invite them in so we can see them."

"clear."

Mr. A bowed his head respectfully, offering no objection.

(End of this chapter)