Warlock Apprentice Chapter 1480 - 1480 Section 1481 Opening the Gate

Chapter 1480: Section 1481: Opening the Gate Chapter 1480: Section 1481: Opening the Gate When Angel had initially constructed the Gate Model, he had felt the involvent of Illusion Technique energy, but when the Gate Model first took shape, it was rely a simple spatial displacent. Angel had thought it would not be affected by Illusion Technique energy.

He had not expected the influence to occur here.

To call it influence might also not be accurate. At least Angel felt that Spatial Energy, special energies, and Illusion Technique energy, although predominantly special energies, ford a very perfect balance.

If the Illusion Technique energy had not been involved, perhaps it would have lacked a certain essence.

What Angel wanted to confirm now was what effect the Illusion Technique energy would have when it appeared on the door? Surely, the door would not beco ostentatious because of the Illusion Technique? Or, would it create a multitude of Illusionary Realms near the door?

As Angel fantasized, the outline of the door beca increasingly clear and profound.

With the ergence of the door, Angel could feel a faint bond forming between the Witchcraft Slot Gate Model’s special energy and the door before him.

Special energy was like a tie, linking Angel and the door tightly together.

And because of this bond’s ergence, the special energy that originally covered the Gate Model started to contract rapidly, but this contraction did not signify a reduction. Angel could feel that the special energy still maintained a balanced state and would likely cover the Gate Model again in the future. However, the required ti could only be tested after this experint was over.

Assured that the special energy would Diffuse again, Angel no longer cared about matters concerning the Witchcraft Slot but instead stared fixedly at the door before him.

The shape of this door was almost completely identical to the Gate Model on the Witchcraft Slot, except the Gate Model was ford from countless Patterns, while the door before him was made of nurous intertwining glowing lines.

There was a kind of beauty in the interweaving lines.

But what Angel was most concerned with was the facade of the door. This door had no doorway; instead, it was replaced by a thin layer of glowing fog.

The three types of energy Angel had perceived before were all present in this layer of glowing fog, with special energy being the most dominant.

Angel felt a profound connection with the door before him, but he was a bit uncertain about what lay behind this door.

Angel took a deep breath, as he had co to test the effects of this door and naturally could not back down now.

Unhesitatingly, Angel stepped forward, advancing into the mist of light.

…

Alex followed the Priest who had adopted him and entered the Cruia Church.

This church was said to have stood in the town for more than two hundred years and had once had a prosperous period. However, since God had never shown any miracles and the number of residents in the town had dwindled, the Cruia Church started to fall into disuse. Especially in recent years, when the road to the Holy City was severed, and no clergy could be dispatched, the Cruia Church beca even more dilapidated.

Now, only Alex, Berenland, and Tessa, a Nun who worked daily in the garden, remained.

Berenland, the Priest who had adopted Alex, was now over seventy years old, and both his body and mind were not as sharp as before. And Nun Tessa was also over sixty years old.

This led to the entire managent of the church falling onto Alex alone.

And Alex alone could not keep the church clean, making the Cruia Church seem sowhat gray and faded, with the colorful papers on the windows yellowing. Not to ntion the sculptures of the father God at the top of the church, which had not been cleaned for several years because there were no ladders.

Alex looked up at the dirty and splotchy face of the father God and could no longer see traces of compassion. Instead, he faintly felt a sense of gloom and terror.

“Alex, gazing directly at the eyes of the father God is a disrespectful act,” Berenland reprimanded.

“I was just thinking…” Alex paused, seeming unsure of how to express himself.

After a long ti, under Berenland’s watchful eye, he whispered softly, “Why the father God has never descended in glory.”

After hearing this, Berenland said nothing and extended his trembling old hand, pulling out a book from his washed-out robes and placing it against his chest, he closed his eyes and muttered, “Father God above, please forgive this lost child, who has not yet been baptized and thus cannot catch a glimpse of your rcy. Your humble follower will use the remaining ti of his life to lead him out of confusion and into the light.”

After Berenland finished speaking, he muttered a few admonitions from the father God and then opened his eyes, looking at Alex.

Berenland did not speak, but his silent gaze put pressure on Alex, who couldn’t help but lower his head.

“Alex, you are questioning the father God,” Berenland’s tone carried a stern significance, “That is even more disrespectful than your direct gaze at the father God.”

“I know I was wrong,” Alex said, bowing his head to avoid Berenland’s gaze.

Berenland said, “It is good that you can recognize your mistake. However, I hope that when you think about problems, you start from the Holy Scriptures.”

Alex really wanted to argue that the mandates in the Holy Scriptures were too strict and rigid. If he were to think about problems from that starting point, it would stifle his thinking capability and eventually turn him into soone like Nun Tessa, who knew only to water and plant flowers in the garden.

However, Alex did not speak out in rebuttal; instead, he bowed his head silently, appearing to comply.

Berenland looked at Alex and sighed softly, “I know you have many doubts, but doubts are the cage that troubles the mortal heart. When you truly beco a Priest, you will understand that the father God will surely answer all your doubts. Therefore, your current doubts are unnecessary.”

“Besides, I am old now and will soon return to the father God’s kingdom. Cruia Church can only be succeeded by you. How can I rest assured and hand over the church to you if you question the father God?” Berenland said with a pained expression.

Alex had a guilty expression on his face, “It was my fault.”

Bertrand sighed, “Ever since I brought you back to the church after you lost your mory, I could tell that you didn’t fit in with those around you. Why don’t you try to integrate a little? After all, you will live here for a long ti in the na of a priest.”

Alex still hung his head in admission of guilt, but his thoughts were of another scenario.

Bertrand had wanted to admonish him further, but at that mont, the great doors of the church were pushed open.

A middle-aged woman, with a cloth wrapped around her waist and wearing a black skirt, entered with quiet sobs.

The woman with red-rimd eyes glanced at Bertrand and Alex, her sob turning into a choked cry as tears fell like a string of pearls.

Bertrand looked at her with pity in his eyes.

Struggling to catch her breath from crying, it wasn’t until a while later that she heard the rustle of movent in front of her. Looking up, she saw a white-haired youth extend his slender hand, offering her a handkerchief.

“It’s Alex… sob… Where is Father Bertrand?” the middle-aged woman took the handkerchief, glancing around, but she did not see anyone else in the church.

“Father Bertrand has already set out for the cetery. He said he wanted to personally conduct the last rites for Knight Raven. I’m here to provide counsel for you, madam,” said Alex, his eyes filled with compassion.

On hearing the na of Knight Raven, the middle-aged woman paused, tears flowing anew from her eyes.

“Raven, my Raven, how could you abandon your mother…” she scread in despair.

“Mrs. Connie, I know the sorrow in your heart from losing your son. Speaking out the knots in your heart might make you feel a little better,” Alex said as he led Connie toward the confessional on the side of the church.

Due to the death of her son, Connie was like a soul lost, staggering after Alex.

The confessional, which was originally built with crimson wood, had slowly shed its red paint over ti to reveal the dark wood beneath. The alternating red and black gave the illusion of dripping blood.

Connie entered the confessional, eager to divulge the anguish within her.

Alex sat on the other side, listening quietly.

Knight Raven, a mber of the town’s Knight corps, frequently patrolled Gust Town. Alex had seen him once, a very sunny youth.

However, Knight Raven was dead now, and they couldn’t even find his entire body.

Only a head remained.

It was discovered hanging on the pier of a stone bridge ten kiloters out of town, on the road leading to the Holy City.

This was obviously an unnatural death.

Yet Knight Raven was not the first to die an unnatural death in the town. Since Bertrand brought Alex to Gust Town three years ago, according to Alex’s count, this was the seventeenth such case.

Each victim was found with only their head, their bodies all vanished.

To this day, this string of bizarre cases remained unsolved, and no one knew who the perpetrator was.

It could be said to be a great shadow haunting the entirety of Gust Town.

After Mrs. Connie finished expressing the helplessness and sorrow in her heart, Alex lit a blessing candle for her and spoke a few comforting words, then escorted Mrs. Connie out of the church.

As Mrs. Connie was about to leave, Alex asked her, “Miss Fanni’s birthday is coming up soon, isn’t it?”

Connie paused, “I’m not familiar with Fanni. I don’t know, but Raven seed to have ntioned it before, indeed. Why do you ask this question?”

Alex smiled, “Just asking, it has no other aning.”

After seeing off Connie, Alex returned to the interior of the church. He pushed open the door to the confessional and entered.

Sitting quietly inside, he pondered so questions.

After an indeterminate ti, Alex suddenly lifted his head and looked toward a certain direction above, “I don’t know why Father Bertrand, as well as Mrs. Connie, can’t see you.”

“But I can see you.”

“I really want to know, having followed all day, what do you want? And who exactly are you?”

There appeared to be nothing where Alex was looking.

However, if one were to look from Alex’s own perspective, one would see a golden-haired youth floating there, appearing to be about the sa age as himself.