"..."
In the silent atmosphere, Ronald carefully observed the Saint Seat Priest.
Martha was standing beside him at this mont. The figure beneath her black priest robe seed to tremble slightly, yet when her gaze shifted forward, her hands holding the book appeared relaxed.
How was this church official’s current state? What was she thinking inside?
Ronald was sowhat bewildered.
He didn’t know what kind of reaction Martha would have upon seeing such content.
After all, she was now an important figure in the church, and dealing with certain matters, she could no longer rely solely on emotions to make judgnts.
Even if he were to chant a spell to summon the black mist of Hell, Ronald wouldn’t blindly trust its result.
So, he tried to ask gently:
"Martha... are you alright?"
Martha gently nodded, smiling as she looked at him:
"Of course, I’m fine. Why do you ask?"
Ronald tried to organize his words:
"Don’t you think that the words in this book are sowhat shocking? Or maybe the contents recorded are quite amusing?"
"Ah, you an this." Martha imdiately understood, shrugged and responded, "I’ve known a certain extent of what’s written here long before, back when I left the convent and prepared to beco a Saint Seat Priest."
"You knew it long ago?" Ronald widened his eyes, "So when you left the church branch on the southern continent back then, you also knew everything that happened here?"
"Not exactly." Martha shook her head in denial, speaking calmly, "These ssages were rely deduced based on facts. If we knew everything, today’s situation wouldn’t have turned out like this."
Ronald accepted Martha’s explanation.
But when thinking about the Saint Seat Priest in front of him, a devout believer, who actually knew the essence of ’deity’, a sense of absurdity from reality surged imdiately.
Martha also noticed this point, so she continued:
"This isn’t hard to understand at all."
"I love the quiet and peaceful life in the church. I love helping others, teaching children, and caring for the elderly. I love the comfort and peace my heart receives during morning and evening prayers, and I love the strength and hope faith provides ."
"Even if so things don’t exist..."
At this point, Martha suddenly smiled gently.
"But so what?" she continued, "Faith cos from within oneself, and I find peace in my heart, that’s enough."
Martha’s attitude was calm yet firm.
Ronald watched her, feeling that he had gained a new understanding and respect for this Saint Seat Priest.
"You’re truly an amazing person." he couldn’t help but praise.
"Thank you." Martha slightly bowed her head, "In my eyes, you are indeed a unique and great person too."
The two exchanged smiles.
The tense atmosphere in front of the bookshelf dissipated entirely.
Next, everyone’s work returned to consolidating and organizing the materials, and Ronald continued to browse the subsequent contents recorded in the book.
The past church, hindered by era and cognition, could not explore the essential mystery of deity’s birth. Yet for investigating and analyzing event phenona, it achieved absolute accuracy.
This world inherently never had deities.
The ’god’ that aligned with church faith indeed was born from people’s faith. This process even doesn’t involve Magic Power and Spell, but rather so wonderful field that has yet to be ventured by people.
"..."
As the reading ca to an end, Ronald placed the book back on the table, feeling a wave of exhaustion.
He had been lingering in the library for a considerable ti; even though his body remained energized, his brain couldn’t continue processing information like this.
Hence, Ronald decided to go downstairs to find Orel.
The contents of the book were ultimately just words; for certain details, he still needed to have a good talk with Orel, the ’party involved’.
This King of Giant Beasts, though hiding many secrets, undeniably played an indispensable role in this event.
For many things, for now, he can only turn to Orel.
Ronald descended the staircase, planning to find him, and while at it, bring so water and food up for the people on the second floor.
At this ti, the sky had turned dark.
As he reached the middle of the stairs, he noticed that the lighting on the first floor had dimd, leaving only one oil lamp flickering weakly.
"..."
Ronald frowned; sothing was unusual down below.
Although Orel was not human, he still had basic physiological activities. And standing at this position, Ronald—with his hearing—should’ve been able to hear even the breath of the other.
Could Orel, who was supposed to be on the first floor, have left due to so matter?
Once he reached the first floor, the situation was exactly like Ronald guessed.
The library door was closed, and the silent first floor only had the flickering light of the lamp on the table. On the table where the lamp stood, ink and paper were placed, with a crescent-shaped tal ornant holding them down.
Ronald hurriedly walked to the table, finding the ink on the paper already dried.
He picked it up for a look, his heart sinking instantly.
The handwriting on this page was elegant yet arrogant. Though he hadn’t seen it before, it was clear without a doubt that this was Orel’s handwriting.
Next, scanning upwards—
"Parting note?"
"Is this a joke!"
Ronald instinctively rushed towards the door, wanting to chase after Orel.
But halfway, the singing voice from outside reached his ears, halting Ronald’s steps.
He hesitated for a mont in the doorway.
Then he turned around with a grim face, sat down, and began to carefully read this farewell note.
[To the powerful Caster—
You may not believe it, but this letter is one I left solely for you.
I know there are many secrets and lies between us, yet I wish to reveal a part of my true identity and mission in my very last mont of departure.
Because in you, I’ve sensed a certain quality.
A deep-seated quality that makes one able to tell you these things.
In the past long enough for people to forget the years, I was the king of a group called the Dust Giant Beast species, leading my kin to live in this world.
This place used to be our ho where everything matched our wishes.
Thus ti passed quietly.
Then quietly, too, a disaster arrived.
Intruders from outside attempted to destroy us, seeking to occupy this world. To protect our ho, we fought them with our strongest power, ultimately defeating them.
But as the price of victory, the Dust Giants suffered considerable loss too.
The newly remaining clansn fell into slumber, while all outside continued to exhibit the possibility of life’s growth. As the king, I saw everything and quietly awaited the restoration of the Giant Beast tribe.
Our long lives render us unshort of ti.
Until... humans appeared.
Understanding you as a species, unlike my sleeping kin, I’ve seen more and learned much. Sothing from the short-lived species transford , thus... I beca a part of the church.
There’s no need to elaborate on what happened later; I ultimately guarded the seal of the Holy City here.
Over a millennium of introspection has changed my perspective on [the Singing Woods], yet critical points therein remain hard to choose. An immortal’s view of ti lacks urgency; just wait patiently.
However, in recent days, I’ve felt cracks and fluctuations appearing on the seal.
This signifies that intruders have found the seal, and entered here, with their purpose equally apparent.
If they succeed, then the world of [the Singing Woods] will be ruined.
Then I won’t need to make a choice.
As for stopping them...
In any case, I must make a difficult decision: bid farewell to my past identity, head to this new world, and seek a new self.
—The key on the table.
That is the key to my treasury, where the treasures of the past church reside.
Please hand it over to the Saint Seat Priest; this is what they are ant to inherit. Also, I hope this helps you strengthen yourselves, or possibly assist significantly in stopping the intruders.
Lastly, please forgive my selfishness, forgive my deceit.
In the unknown space-ti, unknown world, or maybe so dream illusion, eternal instant, I will hear the stories happening here.
—Goodbye.
The forr Dust Giant, church Saint, Orel.]
Pop!
Ronald set the paper aside on the nearby table, his face devoid of the slightest good expression:
"So..."
"Just ditching everything and running away?"
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