Extraordinary Pedigree.

Chapter 915: The Contradictory Mechanicus

Silence slowly flowed high up in the bridge.

Inside the chest cavity of the God-Forged Holy Knight, plasma continued to flow from the heat dissipation crystal tubes, and the heart of the giant machine was reshaping its spine with every breath.

Xia Xiu stared quietly at the being covered with copper tubes and link locks - the mechanical saint who had long since given up his human outline.

His eyes swept across the remnant of the other person's face that looked like it had been bitten by gears, and across the human eyeball that had been replaced by a high-precision optical module.

"Do you think... this is worth it?"

"Completely give up your individual consciousness and become an executive module of an information integration body. Do you think you are still yourself?"

There was no sarcasm in his tone, but rather a hint of pity.

He was even reluctant to describe Bumaro as "crazy."

After all, he still hopes to win over the old man who has provided him with great help to stand on his side.

Bumaro stood still, only the copper vein on his back, as thick as a snake, slowly contracted, as if filtering the phlogiston signal in his body.

After a moment, the multi-focal lens eye with cold and soul-stirring light slowly turned and finally aimed at Xia Xiu.

And his voice slowly flowed out from the iron lung, low, ancient, like a burning doctrine:

"If everything is broken, faith will die."

"If faith can be abandoned, divinity will decay."

"You said I burned my body and lost me."

"You say I am not a person, but I am not me."

"Yes——"

He took a small, slow step forward, and the platform vibrated beneath his metal feet, like some dormant device being awakened.

"What is 'I'?"

"I am the flesh? I am the immortal? I am the key? I am the fire?"

"If a god dies, should his followers cry and go home? Should they turn away from their faith and rebuild human relations?"

His voice gradually became louder, but it was not frantic. Instead, it sounded like a bell tower that had not been repaired for a century, and every sound shook his bones.

"No!"

"I am not mine. I am His."

"I am a rivet, a hammer, and a gear tooth for all machines."

"When faith is about to break, I will become its foundation; when divinity is about to die, I will continue its chain; when the blueprint is lost, I will remember it in my bones; when all things are silent, I will speak for them."

"My soul is riveted to the center, my bones are cast in the rails, my voice is resounding in the clockwork."

Saint Bumaro slowly raised the palm with rune rivets embedded in it, pointed it into the void, and said in a voice like thunder:
"If I don't enter the brokenness, who will?"

“If the gods have not recovered, and the Tao has not returned, then this heart will forever burn in this furnace, and this body will forever be locked in this lock.”

"The teeth of the universe are broken and cannot be recast. The voices of the universe are silenced and no longer ring. I will not retreat."

"I will never be respected until I am broken and return——"

The sound was low and roaring, like a rusty but still burning war drum, beating into the metal bones and the wreckage of faith.

His figure seemed to be more and more deformed at this moment, no longer resembling a human in the mechanical mist of light and shadow. He was like a residual god who sacrificed himself, stripped of all meaning, just to "guard a spark of fire."

Xia Xiu stood there amid the fierce oaths, his eardrums vibrating, but he did not retreat a single step.

He just looked at the other person quietly, narrowing his eyes.

The only thought that rang in my mind was:

"These mechanical lunatics are more extreme than each other."

The Mechanical Saint in front of him is a fanatical protector of the Broken God.

Not the Orthodox Church's blueprint executors, not the Maxwellist-type internet preaching clergy - but the madman who crawled out from God's broken bones and burning cavity, using his body to mend the chains and his soul to plug God's hole.

Fanaticism is not enough to describe the other party's state.

The Mechanical Saint is even crazier than a fanatic.

If the conversation doesn't go well, he might really have a fight with the saint here.

This was the last thing Xia Xiu wanted to encounter.

"We will not discuss the broken ways you mentioned today."

He weighed his tone and said:

"I would like to talk to you more about the current attitude of your Oletin branch towards the courtyard."

"Also, has the main church in Daeva contacted you?"

He paused, then suddenly tightened his tone and went straight to the point:

"Also, what is your attitude towards me?"

Three sentences, each step is exquisite.

The first sentence points to the positions of the three factions of the Church. The Broken Church, Maxwellism, and the Orthodox Church, who is willing to accept the domination of the Earthly Courtyard? Who is not willing? Who plans to wait and see?

The second sentence points out whether the main Daevite church should intervene in the border. If it does, it would be a naked interference in the courtyard regime.

The third sentence, which is the most important point, is how the Mechanical Saint views him, the [Om Messiah].

Do you think I'm a usurper? A heretic? A false god?
still is……

Are you waiting and watching, trying to determine whether [Oum Messiah] is the new Lord who can reshape God?
Faced with Xia Xiu's precise inquiry, Saint Bumaro did not answer immediately.

He remained silent for a few breaths, as if letting his own information circulate once, filtering every logical node through the gears, copper veins and panels.

After a moment, a low humming sound came from his chest, which was the cooling breath released after the furnace core vibrated.

He finally spoke, his voice seemed to come from a miracle, with the slowness and pressure of a ritual chant:
"Three factions coexist in this land, each with their own views on Om Messiah."

"The first one is called: the orthodox religion."

"They are the followers of the gear master order, who follow the rules of machinery, adhere to the way of the subject, hate impurities, and reject heresy."

He raised his head slightly, looking at Xia Xiu without hesitation, his tone was emotionless, but it was like the sound of a bell:
"You were not carved by blueprints, nor were you given by oracles. They call you the Great Disrespectful One!"

He sighed softly and continued, "The second one is called: The Old Broken Society."

"In the past, we walked together on the broken bridge of stardust, picking up bones and gathering cores to forge the remains of gods."

“Though it is now in ruins, there is still some fire left.”

"They...are interested in you."

"Or to test whether you are the 'true successor to divinity', or to see if the fire in you comes from the 'first design'."

"If you can ignite their plans and restore their bodies, they will serve you as a 'reforged hammer' and offer you gifts without sparing their own bodies."

When he said this, there was a subtle emotion in his tone, neither relief nor sarcasm, but a cold statement of fact.

Then, he slowly uttered the name of the third faction:
"The third one - Maxwell."

His voice paused for a moment, as if he was doing some neural adaptation for this name, and then he spoke clearly:

"They walk among the flowing nets, their words are not contained in their mouths, their thoughts are not bound in their brains."

"But they already know that you exist and that you hold the holy mechanism of the gospel and will not destroy it."

"In their eyes, you are a broken child."

"They are willing to connect with you, even willing to use themselves as a gateway."

Saint Bumaro looked at the divine cardinal in front of him, his voice as cold as the first snow:
"The orthodox religion hates you because you don't conform to the order of the diagram."

"I look at you in pieces, because you may possess divine fire."

"Maxwell embraces you because you can edit again."

Xia Xiu heard the opinions of the three major factions of the branch church about him and shrugged helplessly:

"Two to one. It seems that other than the Orthodox Church, other mechanical believers are very friendly to me."

"It seems that my knowledge of mechanics is still very popular."

Saint Bumaro was silent.

Although the Mechanical Saint now has no eyes, Xia Xiu can still sense that the Saint in front of him seems to be rolling his eyes at him, expressing his speechlessness.

He did not refute Xia Xiu's words, but instead answered the second question.

That is to say, whether the main church on the Diva side has made contact with the branch church.

The Mechanical Saint said: "Contact has arrived."

"The proposal of the Bishops' Council of the Daeva Empire has been conveyed to me by the Three Supreme Divine Orders."

The lights on the platform flickered for a moment, as if the main vein of the entire dock had sensed the sovereign-level oppression carried by this sentence.

Saint Bumaro's tone remained unchanged, but every word seemed to be ground out from deep within the gears:
"The Council of Elders issued an edict: 'Saint Bumaro has lost his dignity and sat with the rebellious god. He is ordered to return to Corecast City immediately to face the blueprint trial.'"

He gently placed a hand with copper nails on his chest, his knuckles trembling slightly, but he showed no sign of surrender:
"McCann accused me of 'changing the blueprint without authorization and giving away the sacred skills', and wanted to remove my saintly inscription and break my command."

Then, he tilted his head back slightly, and his voice became mechanical and hollow:

"And... the Void Dragon."

That is a deeper command.

When that name came out of his mouth, the air seemed to resonate violently for a moment, as if the residual glimmer of consciousness of the broken godhead was watching from afar.

"Its command is: 'The divine chain is broken, the order is broken, and Om Messiah is a rebellious fire and should be burned.'"

"'Crucify Him.' That is the command of God."

Three orders, increasing pressure layer by layer.

Theocracy, blueprints, fragments of consciousness, from the hierarchy to the system to the source of divinity, all convicted him of guilt.

Xia Xiu stood on the platform and listened to these statements.

This is a threat, an undisguised high-level suppression.

And San Bumarou…he’s still standing here.

He didn't leave.

Did not return to Coreforge.

He did not draw his sword, nor did he take orders to act.

Instead, he chose to stand on this earthly iron ground and face the man he was commanded to "crucify."

This in itself is an attitude.

But he was not in a hurry to express his opinion.

When Xia Xiu heard these words, he simply lowered his head.

There was a moment's silence, then he smiled.

The Lord of the Courtyard slowly opened his arms, looking like a martyr, standing on the dock platform, where the remnant fire of high-pressure faith and the cold light of logic intersected.

"The order has been given—and I am still here."

"Well, then, Monsignor Saint Bumarou."

The smile in his eyes did not fade, and he spoke word by word:
"How will you treat me?"

At this moment, the Saint and the Crowned One confront each other.

In a word, it was as if trying to pry open God's moral judgment, as if testing His remaining will that had been burned by flames.

Xia Xiu stood there, as if he was putting himself on the stake, or as if he was throwing the verdict in front of the other party.

And San Bumaro finally moved.

The body wrapped in chain mail and rivets approached step by step, and the alloy platform under its feet made a low clicking sound, as if thousands of gears were meshing and turning underground.

He walked in front of Xia Xiu, only an arm's length away, and the cold light eyepiece was close enough to reflect Xia Xiu's eyelashes.

He spoke, his voice was not loud, but the machinery in the entire dock vibrated:
"You...you...do you really think that I dare not?"

"Do you think that my body has rusted and died in memory, and I can't give an order to nail you to the railroad tracks and burn you in the fire of the old gods?"

The tone of voice was like cold electricity wrapped around the bones, almost freezing the air.

But Xia Xiu just turned his head and looked at the mechanical saint as if he was observing a sculpture, speaking in a leisurely tone:
“Before, I wasn’t sure.”

He paused, his tone like a scalpel cutting open a machine-forged heart:

"But now, I am sure——"

"You're not going back to Terra."

He took a light step forward, his golden hair floating in the light like the shadow of a crown in the sun.

"You want to stay in the Astral Plane."

"You want to stay in the courtyard."

"You want to stay, and use your own way... to see if I am the answer you have been waiting for for so long."

The platform was quiet.

St. Bumaro did not immediately respond.

But at that moment, his metal knuckles tightened imperceptibly.

The cold light in his eyes, which had originally been calm, also shook slightly.

The momentary silence solidified into a metallic, oppressive atmosphere on the platform.

Saint Bumarou stood there, his old, inhuman body seemed to have stopped breathing, only the slowly contracting copper tubes and teeth locks behind him were still emitting imperceptible vibrations.

He did not answer immediately as he had before.

But... contemplation.

It was a kind of meditation that was like the jamming of gears, or like a spark searching for the last burning point in the ashes.

Finally, the saint slowly spoke. His voice was no longer righteous, but seemed to seep out from deep within the mechanical shell, from the cracks in the broken doctrine:

"You...you are right."

His tone was light, but as heavy as a hammer that had just awakened from a furnace, with a determination that there was no turning back:
"I... indeed, have no intention of returning to Terra."

"That is no longer the place for us to serve."

He raised his head, his eyes as deep as the molten iron in a furnace, and his words gradually became slower, but more steady and powerful:

"The orthodox religion is no longer my religion."

"He who once forged the gods now serves the king."

"The Hanged King of the Daeva Empire has already driven his minions, envoys, ambassadors, power nails, laws... into the roots of the Episcopal Conference."

"The Order is no longer servants of God, but now they are courtiers of the Daevas."

He sneered, like the sound of iron in the air:
"In the past, we burned our bodies to forge gods. Today, they melt their gods to serve the Hanged King."

He paused, and there seemed to be a sound of wind in the metal shell, as if some logical sequence connected to the distant echo was cut off:
"McCann - he was our keeper of plans and ideas in the past, and now he is the think tank of the empire."

"Its matrix has been quietly rewritten; the tree of logic within it has been reconfigured with the main idea."

"It still operates, but it is no longer God's resurrection."

When he said this, his tone paused.

The air suddenly became heavy.

Because of the next name, he spoke it very slowly, as if asking the world itself for forgiveness:
"As for... the Void Dragon."

At this point, his mechanical eyes closed for a moment, as if he was weighing an idea more serious than apostasy.

Finally, he chose to confess:

"...I suspect it is no longer just the remnant of the Broken God."

"His reaction is not from disorder, but from self."

"It watches phlogiston quietly, but makes no judgement."

"It listens to prayers, but never responds."

"It...seems to be learning to think."