Chapter 183: The Finale (Part 2)
“I’m here to tell you what he’s really up to.”
Selamus’s voice rose dramatically, dripping with excitement: “For countless years, the Holy Church’s past Popes, the reason they were elected was not due to governance skills or even their qualifications and personalities. In rare cases, it wasn’t even about political maneuvering. The most important reason, the decisive factor, was that their physical bodies were tough enough to withstand the first of the three holy relics guarded beneath the temple, only the Pope could wield the ‘Chain of Divine Lock’!”
“And what exactly does that Chain imprison? Lord Tarlasya must surely know.”
Tarlasya definitely knew.
However, the matter Selamus mentioned was news to him.
“You seem surprised?”
Selamus noticed the astonished expression creeping onto Tarlasya’s face, clearly enjoying the reaction as his voice climbed another octave: “It’s perfectly normal! Saint George would never speak of this to you, but he must know. Cardinals are entitled to know these secrets, so you see, no matter how much grumbling they did before, no one dared to truly go against the young Pope, unless they find the next suitable medium…”
“Then how do you know all this?” Tarlasya pondered for a moment before asking in a low voice.
“Because the current situation is nothing like before.”
Selamus answered quickly: “The fate plan is spiraling out of control; now it’s do-or-d*e. More people are getting involved, plus the schism in the church and the rampant rumors—some things can be hidden from the lower ranks, but hiding it from us? Forget it…”
“For thousands of years, we who believe in the deities never imagined we would face their most insane counterattack one day. My father, my grandpa… they were once the most devout believers. Many, like Saint George, shared that perspective, clinging to a glimmer of hope, kneeling before the great existence, trying to kiss its toes, begging for forgiveness.”
He paused, his expression shifting to one of sorrow: “You know what? That’s the root cause of the church’s division.”
“And what Saint George is doing is trying to dismantle the foundation of the fate plan. Some high-ranking church officials, upon learning the truth, couldn’t accept it. They considered it blasphemy, and some of them don’t even realize the gravity of the situation. They’re unaware that merely one godly body from Woodward Forest almost plunged the entire Western Continent into a catastrophic disaster… Some of those people, you probably know.”
“They, or perhaps you as well, fail to recognize the threat of Gidales, trusting in Saint George’s manipulations, or perhaps seduced by promises of benefits. They see the dire current circumstances and simplistically attribute the emergence of the Abyss to the fate plan. But is that really the case?”
“The Popes of past generations shouldered immense responsibilities, time and again combating the deities’ mad will. Do you think those Abysses were merely disasters brought about by the fate plan?”
“No, not at all! Only a very few unexpected Abysses materialized due to the plan’s failure. More of them were our desperate struggles against the Mother Deity’s determination to destroy everything…”
“And through those long centuries of near-millennial conflict, the church has been bending under the pressure.”
“Bending under pressure?”
Tarlasya couldn’t help but interject, his brows furrowed: “But in the last two years, no Abysses have appeared.”
“You’re right…,” Selamus trailed off, seemingly lost in thought. “But it’s been a long time since the Pope made an appearance.”
Hearing this, Tarlasya’s furrow deepened further, as if a thought had struck him.
“Do you know? That old timer, Anseier, recently said something strange to me.”
In his daze, the young commander continued: “He said, the Temple Church is now facing a huge and difficult challenge, an absolutely unbeatable enemy… I didn’t understand at the time, but now, thinking back, could it be… that the disastrous moment is actually approaching?”
“I’m aware you mentioned the tax funds not used for disaster relief and where the donations went. The Rossius family sent them to the farthest southern edge of Silgaya. What’s there? I don’t need to say, do I?”
“The Holy Wall…”
“Yes, the Holy Wall.”
They both fell silent for a moment before Selamus gathered his thoughts: “According to unreliable sources, most knights from the Judgement Fist and the Graced Scale are already stationed there. The leaders of the First Knights Order, Seattle and Mr. Isaac, haven’t been seen in the Holy City for quite a while.”
“Lord Tarlasya, do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I truly don’t.”
Tarlasya shook his head honestly.
“Of course, how could you know?”
Selamus chuckled again: “Saint George wouldn’t let you in on these details. He’s aligned with those cowardly souls in the church, those seeking to profit from chaos, or fools like you who think they know everything but really don’t, and those harboring resentment toward the young Pope.”
“You folks are just playing dumb. As soon as things get out of hand, you think it’s your chance! Saint George wants to avenge his firstborn son, rekindling the Williams family’s glory while carelessly stirring up the already precarious situation. He wants you self-righteous folks to see all the sins the church has committed…”
“Doesn’t the fate plan using civilians as experimental pawns, harming and torturing them to d*ath, count as a crime?” Tarlasya suddenly retorted.
“…It is a crime.”
Selamus hesitated, his expression darkening: “But if we don’t do this, Lord Tarlasya, please tell me, or go ask Saint George directly. If we have to face the goddess’s wrath, how should we prepare, as mere mortals?”
“Unite all warriors and gather the strength of the entire Western Continent,” Tarlasya resolutely replied. “If the strong enemies indeed come, I am willing to walk through fire and embrace d*ath.”
“……”
At those words, the young commander glanced back at the Pope Knight’s determined face, a flicker of warmth appeared in his eyes.
That emotion vanished in an instant, and the next moment, the commander wore a mocking grin again: “Sounds easy enough to say, but when disaster truly strikes, how many will actually step up and stand in the front? Will Saint George step in to block it??”
“Even if he did, how could he possibly stop it?”
“When the Abyss of destruction appeared in history, humanity ultimately relied on divine relics to fight against it. After much hardship, we defeated the calamity at the cost of the entire Cartelgarin, averting extinction. At that time, we caught the Mother Deity off guard with the power of the old god’s remains.”
“But afterward, the Abyss kept evolving, developing new abilities. Divine relics couldn’t play a decisive role anymore. Relying solely on Pope Knights fighting desperately—now, a thousand years later, we’ve been combating just a fragment of the Mother Deity’s will to break her shackles, a minuscule portion, hardly worth mentioning.”
“And in the future, if the church can’t contain such a terrifying existence anymore, once a complete godly body of Gidales arrives, when that time comes, what can we rely on to protect our loved ones and our families?!”
The more Selamus spoke, the more agitated he became, nearly shouting in frustration.
“So, this is the goal of the fate plan,” Tarlasya said calmly, looking at him, “Do you, or today’s church, Pope Angel, really think this is the best plan in a situation of no options?”
