Extraordinary Pedigree.

Chapter 993 The Fifth Church has no need for corpses.

Inside Boyar's bookstore.

Inside the bookstore, a wooden chair creaked dryly.

Boyar's body was pressed down into the chair by Monford, like an empty sack, his back bent into a stiff arc, his head drooping, his eyes staring intently ahead, but without focus.

His eyes were vacant, as if they were filled with stagnant water, devoid of any light. Occasionally, his fingers would twitch slightly, but the movement seemed more like an aftershock of a nerve than a genuine reaction from a living person.

Monford stared at the scene, a chill running down his spine.

Recalling the battle with the skyscraper-sized spider monster, he still felt as if he were in a dream. Although he had defeated the terrifying Reverse Mother entity, the ominous shadow it cast still lingered in his heart.

"...Sir, what should we do next?"

Monford quickly embraced his new identity; from the moment the short sword ignited with golden flames, he had already accepted that he would follow the man before him.

Xia Xiu's gaze swept over Boyal's soulless appearance, and he poked Boyal's bouncy belly with his silver cane, then lectured to Monford:

"Once entangled by the Reverse Mother, most infected individuals' minds will be eroded by the Mother's information, wrapped around them like ropes. Perhaps at first only their thoughts are distorted, but slowly, their perception will be replaced, and finally, their entire consciousness will collapse into a blank."

"This fat man appears to be alive on the surface, but there is no one inside him anymore. His will, memories, and beliefs have all been erased, leaving only a breathing shell, which is basically the same as brain death."

Monford frowned, looking at the bookseller sitting on the wooden chair like a corpse, and asked in a deep voice, "Then what should we do? If we can't get information from Boyar, we won't know who is working for the Fifth Church behind the scenes... who is spreading 'The Secret of the Stars'."

Xia Xiu raised his hand, signaling him not to rush, then reached into his pocket and took out a silver diamond from a small black box close to his body.

“This is the Y-type of the panacea—'Perfect Memory'.” Xia Xiu tossed it lightly, the potion spinning half a circle on his fingertip before he caught it steadily. His tone was calm, as if he were lecturing in class.

"Its function is very simple: after taking it, it can bring back the forgotten, erased, and blurred fragments in the user's brain."

Whether it's something you've forgotten yourself or something erased by external force, as long as there's even a trace left, the Y-type drug can extract it. For us, this is perfect for Boyar—even though he's just an empty shell, there are still remnants in his mind, and we need to extract those fragments.”

Montfort's eyes widened slightly, his tone carrying a hint of hope:

"Can this medicine... heal him? Can it pull him back from this state of being devoured by the Reverse Mother?"

Monford said this not because he wanted to save Boyar, the collaborator; he simply hoped that the Y-type drug could save the innocent people who had been devoured by the Reverse Mother entity.

Xia Xiu shook his head and sighed, his gaze still fixed on that empty face.

"Too late."

He spoke, his voice like cold water being poured over him.

"The normal approach is to use a type G amnestic agent to reset the victim's brain and completely forget the relevant contact before the individual is contaminated by the reverse amnesic agent, so as to cut off the transmission."

He poked Boyar's face, which was swollen like a dead pig, with his silver cane, and then continued:

“But Boyar is different. He is not just contaminated, but his entire information—the information of his existence itself—has been covered up and deleted by the reality.”

You see him sitting here, breathing and moving, but that's just an empty shell; his soul, his essence, is long gone.

Xia Xiu turned his head to look at Monford, his tone more like explaining a cold, hard experimental result:

"The Y-type drug can extract his memories, that's true. But don't get me wrong, this isn't a resurrection. It's just forcibly recalling fragments of his past, letting us listen to a videotape or watch a save file."

He chuckled, but there was no smile in his eyes: "Have you heard of the Ship of Theseus? Piece by piece, the parts were replaced until not a single part of the ship was original, but was it still the same ship? Boyar is even more tragic than the Ship of Theseus—at least that ship still had a complete skeleton, while he didn't even have a skeleton left. Now, he is just a container for a memory, a tool for replaying it."

A sense of loss welled up in Monford's heart.

A heavy sense of loss.

Those ordinary people, those who were dragged into the abyss, none of them could be saved.

He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. An uncontrollable rage rose in his chest, surging out like flames.

The Fifth Church...

He silently chewed over the name in his heart, hatred pressing down on him like a block of iron.

The Fifth Church is the culprit that has brought distortion to this land. He secretly vowed that no matter what the cost, he would drive the Fifth Church out of this land without leaving a single one alive!

On the other side, Xia Xiu pinched Boyar's chin, raised his thumb, aimed at the gap between his teeth, and pried it open with a "click".

The diamond was inserted into the mouth, pressed against the tongue. The blond youth pressed his palm down, pinching the Adam's apple and forcing him to swallow. The Adam's apple slid up and down, the pill sliding over, carrying a slightly metallic taste, like thin ice melting along the esophagus.

Ten breaths.

Twenty breaths.

The only sounds in the air were the friction of breathing and the faint crackling of the lamp wick.

Boyar's chest first sank, then surged. His eyes moved, his pupils dilating from unfocused to contracting, slowly regaining their focus. He was like a puppet suddenly pulled taut by strings; his hands trembled slightly, his fingertips gripping the edge of the chair.

"...Where am I?"

The sound was dry and hollow, like an old cassette tape being played.

"The medicine is working. Type Y - Perfect Memory, now all you need to do is feed it the keyword."

Xia Xiu stood under the dim light, his hand resting on the tip of his silver cane, his voice languid yet carrying an undeniable sharpness:
"Where did the book come from? Who gave it to you? Please explain the location and time of the handover."

Boyar's body twitched slightly, his eyelids trembled, and his pupils suddenly contracted, as if he had been forcibly pulled back to a scene from the past by some invisible force. His lips moved, mechanically and blankly, yet he still managed to utter a name:
“...Cardinal...Patriarch Astaroth.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Monford was struck dumb, his pupils dilating sharply.

"Impossible!" he exclaimed.

"Patriarch Astaroth... he's the highest-ranking official of the Church of St. Cuthbert in the Far East! Whether loyal souls or paladins, everyone must obey his orders! How could he possibly... personally get involved in something like this!"

Monford's voice struck the beams and fell back to the floor, echoing in layers. The oil lamp flickered, dust swirling. The wooden chair creaked again, and Boyar's body trembled slightly.

Xia Xiu didn't reply, his eyes darkened, and he tapped the handle of his silver cane with his fingertips.

It seems a thief has broken into the house.

It seems that St. Cuthbert's side is not impenetrable either; they probably have a host of problems as well.

He pulled himself together, lowered his voice, and threw out the key words: "The location of the Mass, the time, and how the Patriarch spread the word."

Boyar's eyelids twitched, and his pupils contracted, as if he had been pulled back to a scene from the past: "The Far East Cathedral... the seventh day's morning prayer... Astaroth... personally read it."

Xia Xiu: "Explain in detail."

Boyar's convulsions intensified, and the previously hazy memories in his mind began to surge forth wildly under the stimulation of the Y-type drug. He began to speak slowly:
"cigarette."

"The bell tolls."

"Crowds of people."

"Deacons on either side of the altar carried candles and moved about, while incense was carried up the steps to the offering plate. Nobles sat in the front row, their coats of arms pinned to their cloaks; the middle row consisted of guild representatives, booksellers, and printing foremen; and the back row stood the faithful."

Patriarch Astaroth, draped in a shawl, stood by the railing and began to preach the New Testament of St. Cusbert to the faithful. Deacons carried chests and distributed books—silver-white covers, illustrated pages, neatly divided into sections; one book for each person, stamped, and registered.

Some people were turning pages, some were whispering, and some were frowning.

New Testament?

But the first page isn't a classic text; it's about five steps of perseverance. The second page is a star chart; the third page is about focus and prayer.

“At first we didn’t recognize it,” Boyar recalled in a hoarse voice. “The people from the printing house and I were cursing in the corridor, saying that this was not canonical, that it was heresy, and that whoever dared to put this on the shelf would be punished by God.”

But when the books were handed out, the Patriarch stared at us... We couldn't ignore the Patriarch, so we symbolically opened the books and read them once.

After that, I don't know why, but inexplicably, I took the book home with me.

The subsequent storyline becomes clear.

On the first day, Boyar couldn't help but look at the book. He knew in his heart that it was wrong, that it was a heretical book, but his body was completely honest as he opened the book and continued reading.

The next day, having already read the book, he decided to try it out. He placed the mirror in his bedroom, sat in the empty, dark room, and began the ritual according to the breathing method described in the book.

On the third day, he followed "the direction of the smoke" to the cloister outside the church. A group of people stood at the foot of the wall, all faces he had seen in the chapel during the day. No one spoke, they just stared at the sky—they had all been influenced by "The Secret of the Stars."

On the fourth day, he began using words from the book to speak with his colleagues, the key words being:
The Fifth World

"frequency"

"To command".

On the fifth day, he put the mirror away in the cupboard and stuffed the old prayer book into the bottom of the box.

"What about the nobles?" Xia Xiu asked again.

"Pay up the money." Boyar continued to explain what happened next.

The nobleman's steward and the guild leader negotiated prices, signed documents, and affixed their seals in the side hall.

Orders piled up on the table.

Printing workshops started up, movable type was replaced, and paper rolls piled up. Almost all the printing workshops in the Far East City expanded their printing plates overnight. Books were collected at the No. 3 warehouse in the river port, distributed from the cellar of the monastery in the north of the city, and transferred a second time at the stone gate under the bell tower.

The escort team changed its emblem to a white rope, saying it was a newly established volunteer escort team.

The money pouch passed through his hands, the wax seal was affixed, and the books were instantly displayed in the most prominent places in the bookstores of the entire Far East City.

Who is primarily responsible for executing the orders?

“The Patriarch’s office,” Boyar’s voice was even colder. “The mark is the secondary mark of the Order of the Cleansing—they are responsible for maintaining order.”

Monford's hands were bulging with veins, and his knuckles were clenched so tightly they turned white.
"The Qing Dynasty's guild is involved too? Those are the Church's patron knights!" He gritted his teeth, his voice strained. "The nobles paid, the printing presses handled the printing, the warehouses handled the transport, the knights escorted... the whole city has been linked together by you damned traitors?!"

“At first we rejected it…” Boyar of the memory body explained.

"But the allure of books is so great that we can't help but want to read them."

If you don't look—there's a buzzing sound at night, like an organ stuck on its lowest pipe.

And after seeing it, we realized we understood the truth of the world. Then we gathered, hung white cloth on the roof, turned off the lights inside, listened to prayers, and followed the smoke. Later… I went to persuade other booksellers… and later, we all believed.”

"Believe in what?" Xia Xiu stared intently.

"The Fifth Truth".

Boyar spoke with a fanatical expression on his face:

We say, 'A mirror is for others to see.'

We say: 'Fall in love with the leader.'

We said, "The Fifth World is coming."

Xia Xiu tapped his cane, noticing Boyar's increasingly frantic expression, and asked directly:
"The time and place of this handover."

The fat man's previously dull eyes suddenly twitched, then tightened as if pricked by a needle. His lips trembled, and he squeezed out the words in a hoarse voice:
"...The most recent one is tonight...the nightly mass at the cathedral...I heard...the Patriarch will be there in person..."

As soon as he finished speaking, his breath hitched.

Monford tensed up instinctively, and before he could react, he saw Boyar's entire face begin to twitch, stretch, and fold uncontrollably. It was a sight that defied common sense—his nose was twisted like a tightly wound rope, his eyeballs were pulled out of their sockets, and then pressed back in like clay.

He reached out, but as soon as his fingers lifted, he saw Boyar's neck twist violently, as if someone had pulled a string from the shadows. At the same time, his arms folded behind his back, his joints cracking, and his legs were inexplicably constricted into rope-like lines.

“This—” Monford’s pupils dilated, and he froze.

next moment.

boom--

There was a muffled sound.

The fat man's body collapsed and tightened before their eyes, as if someone had twisted a sack in half and ripped it out. There was no blood, no bits of flesh, no bones splattered. Only an empty wooden chair remained, swaying gently.

It was as if the person who had just been sitting there had never existed.

The air inside the bookstore seemed frozen, with only the candlelight in the corner flickering gently.

Xia Xiu narrowed his eyes slightly, a cold glint flashing like a blade in his golden pupils. His expression remained largely unchanged, as if this scene was entirely within his expectations. He simply exhaled slowly, his voice low and deep: "The harvesting of Ni Mi Mother... it seems we won't be able to obtain any more useful information."

As soon as he finished speaking, the empty wooden chair continued to sway gently, making creaking sounds, as if mocking the fact that a living person had just been sitting there.

Monford was drenched in cold sweat, his Adam's apple bobbing as he stared intently at the empty seat, his voice trembling:

"He...he's just gone? There wasn't even a body?"

Xia Xiu turned his head, his blond hair gleaming coldly in the candlelight, a mocking smile playing on his lips. He tapped the air lightly with the tip of his cane, as if piercing an invisible veil, his voice laced with amusement and coldness:
"Corpse?"

"—The Fifth Church has no need for corpses."