Returning from the abyss

Chapter 1447 Apostles
The White Tower County Church provided single rooms, though multi-person rooms were available if needed. This was a very good arrangement, at least for the core members of the church. As for the rest of the residents… it was better than what they had while crossing the wasteland.

Therefore, the pharmacist was not surprised at all by Vajiya's visit; wasn't this arrangement precisely for a private meeting?
"Your Excellency, the Inquisitor, greetings."

“The archbishop need not be so polite; the interrogating priests have not even questioned a saint.”

Upon meeting, the two exchanged greetings. After the pleasantries, Vagiya followed standard church protocol and said, "Even so, when meeting the same cardinal saint... I still hope to follow the rules."

"As it should be."

The so-called "rule" is that when saints meet, they go together to the Kingdom of God to verify whether there are any problems with each other's faith. As the pharmacist said, saints cannot directly verify each other; only by entering the Kingdom of God together can they be certain of each other, and the Church uses this as a means of verification.

The two remained silent for only a short while before catching a glimpse of each other's spiritual reflection within the divine realm.

Immediately, they opened their eyes at the same time. The greatest danger of this behavior is that the body is unguarded when communicating with the divine kingdom. Therefore, experienced saints usually learn this technique of a fleeting glance to avoid being ambushed—this has happened in history.

"Colleague, how should I address you?"

"Just call me pharmacist, you know the rules," the pharmacist said.

Vagiya nodded: "Understood. Before the interrogation of the priests concludes, no one other than the Pope and cardinals may inquire about any prohibited matters."

“Yes… but there are some things outside of the mission that I can share with you.” The pharmacist smiled. “In fact, this is the first time I have met you, the legendary ‘Radiant Star.’ The glory you bask in is no different from that of a cardinal.”

"Glory remains only on the surface, in the very essence of salvation; true treasure lies in the compassion that springs from the heart. Priest, there is no need for flattery; what is it that you wish to share with me?"

After a moment's thought, the apothecary asked, "There's something I need to ask you first, Archbishop Vagiya. Have you ever heard of the name Rosemerada?"

The role of the inquisitor is not an administrative function, nor does it involve most diplomatic occasions, but as the archbishop of a diocese, Vagiah should have more knowledge in this regard than she does.

"age?"

"She looks to be under twenty."

"Then there is only one person I can think of... a student from the West, 'Eulogy' Rosemerada Querius."

"What kind of man is that?"

"A young and ambitious woman, but quite learned, she did not believe in the gods, perhaps simply because divine favor had not been bestowed upon her. However, her academic exchanges in the West were quite successful. After all, she was young, energetic, and quite good-looking, and people would flock to her even if it was just for a gimmick."

What academic topics were she discussing?

“It’s our field—medicine,” Vajiya said.

Unsurprisingly.

Atheists are the Plague Lord's favorite targets because their beliefs are easily shattered, allowing him to take advantage of their vulnerability. If they are also knowledgeable and young, they are the perfect apostle target.

“This looks like a real problem,” the apothecary sighed. “She appeared in Rosetta Town and is probably on her way to Violet City now. There’s probably nothing along the way that can stop an apostle who still has a shred of reason.”

=
In a secluded village outside Violet City, Rosemaryda, dressed as a traveler, found her way to the gate by following the address.

A light drizzle was falling from the sky, and five people had already gathered at the entrance. The most eye-catching was a tall and burly man, over two meters tall, wearing a plain white mask. He wasn't carrying an umbrella, and the raindrops falling on his arms, which looked like they were used to years of exercise, actually created a faint white mist.

The others didn't get too close. An elegant and intellectual woman in her thirties stood furthest from the door, holding an umbrella. Her eyes lit up slightly when she saw Rosemaryda approaching. Closest to the door was a hunched old man wearing a raincoat and leaning on a cane, though he appeared to be in good health.

The youngest man was impeccably dressed, carrying an umbrella and wearing glasses. However, he appeared visibly nervous, though he stood closer to the woman. Surrounded by these people was a woman in a black robe, her upper face hidden behind a black veil. Rosemerada couldn't determine her age; while the lower half of her face appeared youthful and fair, her crossed hands were covered in wrinkles and had prominent veins, making her look like an old woman.

Seeing Rosemaryda stop there, the lady said happily, "I thought I was the only lady here today. Thank goodness."

Rosemerada glanced at the man in the black robe in the middle.

"According to the letter, six newcomers are scheduled to arrive today. Please wait here for a moment. I am the apostle 'Gatekeeper' here, and you will have to wait for one more person to arrive," the black-robed figure said, her voice indeed that of a clear, young girl.

"Hmm... a show of force?" Rosemerada tilted her head slightly and asked with a smile.

“It seems so,” the white-masked man said.

"We're all colleagues who are going to work together, there's no need to put it like that, haha, right?" the man said somewhat nervously. "Maybe he just doesn't want to have to entertain us several times, is that right?"

"So you're leaving us standing in the rain outside?" the old man's voice boomed. "Ha, even the lowest slave should know not to leave visitors standing in the rain."

The woman did not speak, but her smile seemed to convey her stance.

Faced with the pressure from these apostles, the gatekeeper remained unmoved, simply standing there motionless.

"Is this last one not going to be on time? We clearly agreed on a time of—"

Rosemerada was about to speak when she heard the sound of a carriage behind her. The carriage stopped on the road outside the mansion, and a man wearing a top hat and luxurious clothes casually put on an expensive-looking cloak and jumped down from the carriage.

"The appointed time was nine o'clock in the morning. I don't think I'm late; I just arrived right on time, beautiful lady." The man casually took out his pocket watch and glanced at it. "Very punctual, exactly on time with my schedule. Ah, have you all been waiting here for a long time? I'm so sorry... After things are finished here, I can invite you all to my home for a cup of tea as an apology."

"Everyone's here, you can go in." The gatekeeper turned around, unlocked the mansion gate with his key, and led everyone inside. When Rosemerada went in, she carefully examined the interior of the house and could basically conclude that these people had just found an abandoned, dilapidated house, made some minor alterations, and used it as a base.

What a useless bunch.

If it weren't for the legendary apostle "The Pathfinder" Pan De'ang being here, she wouldn't have been interested in coming here. The further she went in, the stronger the stench of decay and filth became, making her want to cover her nose.

Are all plague apostles this despicable? Rosemerada frowned deeply, and her dissatisfaction reached its peak as she entered the house.

What did she see? A bunch of consumptive-looking guys.

Their eyes were lifeless, their expressions withered, but their faces were flushed and they had a sickly excitement. These guys were like a group of monkeys that had been locked in a cage for a long time, and now that the cage door was open, they all wanted to run wild and make a ruckus.

Only a few of them seemed normal. Rosemerada had no doubt that the gray-haired man sitting in the main seat at the far end was Pandeon, but the apostle's serious expression didn't look welcoming at all.

"Wow! Some fresh faces have arrived!" A young man sitting to the side suddenly jumped up and clapped loudly. "Great! Great! How long has it been? I'm almost sick of the stench on these guys. It's best to have something fresh to wash it off—haha, I hope you guys don't get tainted by the same stench too soon!"

Before he could finish clapping, a string of vulgar words came from the other side of the table: "If you put those corny feet on the table again, I bet I'll pull your ass out and fuck you right now!"

The woman in chainmail finished her tirade, put a bone back in her mouth, and said to the gray-haired man in the middle, "Pan De'ang, hurry up and say a few words, I'll leave after I'm done. I'm getting sick of these damn bastards.

"Please take your seats, everyone. What we are about to discuss is the matter of Violet City. In recent days, the High Lord has bestowed many favors, and the number of apostles has increased considerably. Everyone here has set their sights on Violet City, but I believe that if we each act independently, we will easily be discovered by the Church and the army of Toriljen, and then none of us will be able to accomplish anything. In that case, it would be better to communicate with each other and cooperate to provide cover."

Upon hearing this, Rose Merada almost doubted whether this was the legendary apostle she had heard about.

Pan De'ang's status among the apostles was established by the infamous plague "Black Pine Forest." As one of the few apostles who was not captured by the church after the outbreak of the plague, he was respected by the apostles wherever he went, even by that group of mindless madmen.

She had thought it would be a small pilgrimage, but the reality was quite different from what she had imagined.

We're actually going to team up with this bunch of useless apostles? They don't even have brains; all they know is to spout their boring "works" and boast about how they infected a few people in some small village and then escaped.

"Hey, isn't there anyone here who can come up with a plan that sounds plausible?"

Just then, the man who arrived right on time silenced the noisy chatter in the room with his loud voice.

He had lit a cigarette sometime earlier, but didn't smoke it; he just let the smoke dissipate naturally. The smoke didn't smell like tobacco, but rather the aroma of some kind of burning spice, which made the suffocating air here much better.

The apostles turned to look at them, but their blank stares revealed no plan whatsoever.

“It seems not. So, Pan De'ang, what do you think? With this kind of ineffective discussion, it’s better for everyone to do their own thing. Anyway, even if they want to spread it, they probably won’t be able to create any good plague.” The man said with a smile, “If the meeting is just like the banquets of those ministers in the palace, then I think it’s meaningless even if so many people reach a consensus. I would rather form a smaller group.”

“I’m not the initiator, I just took on the task of organizing everyone,” Pan De’ang said calmly. “This place was originally meant to help everyone reach a consensus. If the consensus is to divide into small groups to take action, I have no objection.”

"Oh? And what about you, Pan De'ang?"

"All I need to know is how many people are here. As for what happens next... I have my own team to handle that."

Before anyone knew it, the gatekeeper had already moved to stand behind Pan De'ang.

"Rest assured, I will stay here until everyone reaches a conclusion, ensuring everyone leaves safely. However, many of us will probably never see each other again after leaving here. That's the nature of the Plague Apostle... So, do you have any further comments?"

“No, that’s all.” The man removed his top hat and bowed slightly. “Thank you for your generosity.”

Then, he turned to look at Rosemerada and the others.

"Friends, as I said outside the door, given the terrible weather, I would be very happy to invite you to my house for a cup of tea. What do you all think?"

"I want black tea from the Mélot Estate," the woman said with a smile.

"It just so happens that I received such a gift three months ago, madam. Would you do me the honor of accepting it?" the man said with a smile.

"I'll go too. This place... sigh, it's disappointing."

Rosemerada and the white mask also made their departure clear through their actions. Only the bespectacled man seemed a little hesitant and flustered, but after a moment, he couldn't stand the atmosphere and walked to the door leading out.

"Wait a minute!"

The woman in chainmail roughly pulled out a chair and strode over to the group, glaring at them as she asked, "Are you planning to leave?"

“At least it’s easier for us to talk to each other than to the people here,” Rosemerada said coolly. “What? You want to come with us too?”

“Fine, I’ll go with you.” The woman grinned. “I have nothing to talk about with a bunch of drunkards and drug addicts.”

“I wouldn’t mind having one or two more guests.” The man took off his top hat again. “As long as this guest is a reasonably normal apostle.”

"There are no normal people here except for Pan De'ang and his gang. I've been sitting here for almost an hour, and I've seen people come in and vomit all over the place. They're all idiots, so don't worry about them."

With disappointment and a critical eye on her few temporary companions, Rosemaryda walked out with them.

The man pointed to the carriage parked by the roadside and smiled, “Everyone can get in. There’s plenty of space in my carriage. Oh, by the way, we should probably use code names to communicate, so we can build more friendships in our future cooperation—you can call me Blue Cobalt. Of course, please don’t speculate about my identity or background.”