Returning from the abyss

Chapter 1458 Inspection
Rosemerada's disdain was echoed by Blue Cobalt.

“Pandeang was chosen by the King of Panic, so it’s perfectly normal for him to want to spread panic to trigger the plague in his hands. It’s just that the older generation still likes to spread the plague in this way, which is neither discreet nor aesthetically pleasing.”

“Excuse my bluntness, but ‘gourmet’ is not some kind of aesthetic plague,” Rosemerada said.

Blue Cobalt feigned surprise: "How can you judge me like that? Just by my demeanor, you can tell I'm not the kind of person who would turn a prototype into a broken brick, right?"

“I only use my ability to read people when I’m debating,” Rosemerada said, taking a sip of her tea. “So, you must have hunted down those plague apostles?”

Blue Cobalt laughed: “Call this self-defense, Miss. They crept into my territory and tried to spread the plague here—you’ve noticed, none of my servants are infected, have you? Their lives are so peaceful and content that if anyone wants to disrupt them, they’d be better off putting their remaining energy to good use. Want to see my collection?”

“No thanks, I have no interest in these unremarkable plagues.” Rosemerada finally finished her tea and then took out a small cloth bag from her pocket.

"Oh?" Blue Cobalt showed an interested expression.

“I spread your plague, so you have to do me a favor. Blue Cobalt, you didn’t say anything useful that day, and no one else noticed, but I did. I won’t ask, just help me use this stuff.”

"Is this your prototype? Or..."

"The first 'prototype' for exploring the mysteries of the gods. I have no interest in those boring plagues; they're demanding and won't attract much attention. The city is about to descend into chaos, so just pick a few suitable targets for me to use," Rosemerada said.

"What constitutes a suitable target?" Blue Cobalt asked, taking the bag. "You specifically asked me for help, perhaps because it would be more difficult for you to find one yourself?"

“Pregnant women, more than six months along.” Rosemerada stared at Blue Cobalt, her expression serious. “Don’t mess this up. Five people will do. You can decide on more yourself. The prototype inside just needs to be planted in the soil near the pregnant woman. Don’t ask any other questions.”

"Of course, but I still want to know its name, miss. You can surely satisfy this curiosity of mine, can't you?"

"Yes, it can be called... Born Perfect."

=
Vanessa, thanks to her youthful energy, managed to finish all her responsibilities by working late into the night before the relocation to the Minute Church. There were some things Veronica couldn't help with, so Vanessa had to handle them herself. Fortunately, she was clever enough, and although she inevitably made some mistakes due to inexperience, nothing too serious happened. With this achievement, she finally earned a reputation within the Caritas.

Of course, it was just a title. The Plague Apostles had caused quite a bit of trouble, and Vanessa had gained some recognition. Whether she could take on a major role remained to be seen. Father Thorne then arranged for her to take up a position at the Minute Church. The team was finally broken up, with people being taken away by various parishes in batches. A few merfolk remained, including Lorda.

"Where's the pharmacist?" Vanessa asked as she got into the car, noticing that their teacher was missing.

“The apothecary is away for a while, but don’t worry, she said she’ll be back at the church in half a month at most to resume your classes,” Father Thorne replied. “During this time, you should focus on reviewing your knowledge. Also, I’ve gotten some spellbooks, so you should study those as well.”

Vanessa and Veronica nodded together.

Meanwhile, the pharmacist had already begun her patrol duties.

The duties of the overseers vary, and her task is to examine the members of the Caritas of Saviour within the churches of various churches. This process does not require her to actually lift a finger, unless a traitor is found. The most important objective of this trip is Violet City.

This city is vast, with numerous villages and farms built around it, making it a huge city second only to the capital. Because of this, the Church has established a considerable number of churches here. Although the Church of St. Ist has supervisory responsibilities, the Papal Office always needs to verify the situation in this area through external review.

The Papal Secretariat is independent of the seven cardinals, reporting solely to the Pope, and can also issue orders to the cardinals. This power stems from the unique position of the clergy within the Secretariat—they have access to at least two divine entities.

This is an achievement that most cultivators cannot attain in their entire lives, even saints. The Pope himself must be able to communicate with all seven gods to be eligible; therefore, entering the Papal Affairs Council is the only way to truly have a chance to run for Pope. However, the Pharmacist has little interest in the position of Pope. After all, if the god of the Sacred Pivot is a spring, then the other gods are probably not much different; what use is communication with them?
She was simply fulfilling her duty by inspecting the various churches in Violet City.

Within the vast system of the church, it's natural to find people who aren't entirely devout. Divine magic is merely a category of spells, which anyone can learn; its special nature stems solely from divine inspiration. But what about those who are truly inspired?

They probably just thought it was a useful spell. They had never seen or heard of gods, and the church's demands on them were based on the church's commands. Gods, on the other hand, never had any needs from people.

The lower-level, superficial believers are less likely to have problems. They come with the mindset of "I'll believe as much as I can," and assume the church is indeed capable, without thinking too much about it. But the deeper believers within the church are a different story. If they truly practice diligently but don't receive divine attention, they are easily convinced that all historical accounts about God are based on corroborating evidence from others.

This is also the most troublesome thing about worlds with magic. In a normal world, a mere "miracle" is enough for most people to believe in the existence of gods, even if it's fake. But in this world, gods truly exist, yet any miracle performed is treated as a sophisticated spell—or in reality, just that. Divine magic can be learned and copied; it has no uniqueness, and nothing transcends the common sense of magic in this world.

“So…that’s why there are traitors.” After walking past the third church, the apothecary sat down in a chair in the Eternal Sanctuary and sighed softly. “After all, the gods aren’t all-knowing and all-powerful, otherwise why would there be seven of them?”

However, her sigh seemed to have been noticed, and soon a nun approached, kindly asking if she needed any help. "Hello, nun, could you tell me about the stories of the gods?" the apothecary stood up and said to the nun. "I often hear monks tell stories about their gods, but I've never heard them talk about anything other than their own. So, could you satisfy my curiosity?"

This question is a bit beyond the scope of the curriculum; even Vanessa and Veronica might not be able to answer it well. But on the other hand, it's an open-ended question. The apothecary didn't have any special purpose; he just wanted to see what the gods looked like in the eyes of ordinary nuns.

The nun hadn't expected to be asked such a question, but since she was a full-fledged staff member here, she thought for a moment and then replied, "I think the reason why you monks only talk about the gods you believe in is probably because you only know the part that you are familiar with. If you were to talk about the parts that you don't know, firstly, it would be considered disrespectful to the gods, and secondly, it might make it more difficult for your colleagues to spread the word."

"Oh? But if someone wants to become religious, they need to understand what functions each deity has in order to make a choice, right?"

“In fact, most people don’t care which god they choose; they just hope that the gods will protect them. The Church… will protect them in place of the gods, and I don’t think it makes any difference which monk they turn to.” The nun hesitated for a moment before saying, “I don’t mean to disrespect the gods, but I feel that under the power of the gods, people’s small wishes are no different.”

"You make it sound like you're speaking from a god's perspective," the pharmacist chuckled. "But it's not a bad answer. So, back to the original question, would you be willing to tell me a story? As far as you know?"

“I would like to proclaim to you the greatness of God, but it seems that this is not the kind of story you wish to hear,” the nun said after a moment’s thought. “Perhaps you would prefer to learn about history? Then I can tell you the story of how the Church was founded in ancient times…”

The nun's historical knowledge was quite good; at least she described the church's founding in a rather engaging way—a legendary tale, of course, accessible only to official church members. However, the apothecary knew perfectly well how much of the record was glossed over. So much time had passed that many things had become blurred; the turmoil and death of that period, even the "holy war," had faded with time. Now, people only needed to know of the church's power.

"Thank you for your patient explanation." After a while, the pharmacist chose a point where it was conveniently finished and said, "I do feel a bit better. Hearing stories from the past is always better than worrying about the present, isn't it?"

She said goodbye to the nun, put a few coins into the donation box, and then walked out of the church.

After visiting these places, the state of the churches in Violet City was basically as expected.

Some ordinary monks and nuns, devout in their faith, are still enthusiastically providing whatever services they can to those who come to the church seeking help. Their magical talents are limited, and they can only use spells like "spiritual comfort," but in the apothecary's view, they can bring solace to many simply through words and companionship, without needing to resort to magic.

However, the higher one climbs, the more people with weaker faith become.

After all, not everyone is like Father Petrov, a monk who never received a divine response throughout his life but still practiced the path of virtue. There is no shortage of intelligent people in this world, and a major characteristic of intelligent people is that they like to overthink, which can easily lead them astray.

However, no traitors have been found yet, at least not on the surface.

The pharmacist took out a map and checked it. He found that the next church wasn't far away, so he simply walked there.

The small chapel won't form a parish; the surrounding area is a mix of residential and commercial districts, almost indistinguishable from each other. Violet City's initial urban planning wasn't this large; rather, it was only after it officially became the capital of a Grand Duke that this large area was designated. Over the years, simply eliminating slums is already a significant achievement, and some chaotically planned areas still show no signs of being redeveloped.

These chaotic neighborhoods are inhabited by a diverse population. Although the guards patrol here, the frequency is not as high as in normal areas, and at night, it's a time of rampant chaos.

Just as the pharmacist was chasing away the fourth guy trying to sell her pills, a person with a crooked gait caught her attention.

Violet City doesn't prohibit certain addictive drugs, but this list is clearly categorized. Drugs that can truly cripple a person in a short time are still strictly prohibited. This swaying fellow, though reeking of alcohol, couldn't mask the stench of rotting grass.

"Huh, why is there... a woman walking by here?" The man grinned and walked up, reaching out to grab the pharmacist's shoulder, but the next second he found himself lying on the ground, his face pressed against the cold stone pavement.

"Did you use these drugs to sneak into the city, or are you drug addicts and just using this identity to enter the city?"

A small knife cut open the back of his clothes, and with a soft sound, half of a broken copper plate fell out from behind him.

"Are you an apostle, or an infected person sent on a mission? If you are the latter, then the apostle is treating you as a source of infection. Aren't you afraid?"

"Hey...hehe..."

The man suddenly laughed maniacally a few times, then slammed his head against the ground, instantly smashing a large gash into his skull. He seemed completely unaware of the damage, and slammed his head against the ground a few more times, actually smashing his skull to pieces.

The pharmacist did not stop him, but simply picked up the half of the copper plate.

"Where are the body collectors?" She raised her voice slightly, and soon several furtive men, each dragging several large sacks behind them, emerged from the surrounding street corners and walls. Completely unconcerned about the man's filth, they hurriedly separated the corpse and all his belongings, stuffed them into the sacks, and dragged them away. They even wiped the ground clean with cloths.