A mage? A spell engineer!

Chapter 651 The Nightmare Ends

Part of the "Temple" ship is a monastery, and the monastery's rear courtyard is a library.

The burning oil emitted a dim, faint glow, a remnant from an ancient dimension, a blend of whale fat and musk, releasing an expensive and alluring fragrance. The novice priest moved slowly, holding the oil lamp, between the bookshelves. He had recently had a heated argument with the bishop and the technical priests, a serious breach of decorum, and urgently needed to seek peace and reflection in the scriptures.

This is how it should be, but unease prevailed.

As they passed through the porthole, the brightness generated by the particle storm even surpassed that of the oil lamp in his hand, and the anointing offered to the Lord. At this moment, it was so dim and confusing; the unknown was a massive mass that had captured them, and by comparison, the direction indicated by the Lord had long since become blurred. As pilgrims, they had no way of knowing whether their journey was leading them closer to or turning them away from the Lord.

Something was wrong, and the old man frowned deeply. Lately, he had been having a frequent sense of déjà vu, as if every scene, object, person, and event had happened in a dream or at some point in the past. An electric shock-like feeling pierced the priest's brain, followed by an uncontrollable memory replay, until the flow of consciousness caught up with the flow of time in the real dimension. "This moment" and "memory" collided briefly, playing out in unison before his eyes and in his mind.

Everything was telling him: This wasn't the first time!

The sound of a second person's footsteps echoed in the library, breaking the trainee priest's anxious thoughts. The steps were steady and composed, yet the pace was somewhat fast, suggesting the person was a martial artist.

"Your Excellency, please stop applying the holy oil. It will consume too much oxygen and increase the burden on your life support system." Sure enough, a paladin arrived. He was not wearing armor, but simply wearing a loose white shirt.

The old man paused, then asked in confusion, "Oxygen?"

"Oh, that's it. It's a gas we need to inhale; without it, we would suffocate. Plants also need it, but they can also produce it."

"Oh, I see. But it used to be called 'necessary pheromone'." Now the younger generation uses a new term from the Alliance, trying to emulate the spellcasters. The technical priests are especially like this, always referring to Bain. This is the root cause of the mutual dislike between trainee priests and technical priests.

The novice priest decided to fulfill his duty and instructed the young paladin before him: "My child, this is anointing offered to the Lord. Breathing consumes phlogiston to sustain life, burning incense consumes phlogiston to worship the Lord. Didn't your vow tell you that worshipping the Lord should be above your own life?"

The paladin couldn't refute this argument, but he didn't seem to be listening. He merely examined the small lamp in the old man's hand and finally muttered, "Well, this little one can't consume too much."

The priest suddenly realized something: the appearance of the young knight was not familiar! He had no similar memories in his mind, nor could he "sense" what would happen in the future from his memories.

This invigorated him, dispelling his previous unease. Although the spaceship had not yet escaped the terrifying Lost Nebula, the priest himself felt enlightened, having found his direction. The old man gestured for the young man to sit down at the table, where he set out the holy oil lamps and moved the books he had compiled and organized from the table.

The novice priest is like a child showing off his toys, but at this moment he can call himself a preacher: "Before entering the astral plane, I was a lowly acolyte in the Eternal City. My only hobby was reading, especially reading church archives and minutes."

"So it was only natural that I later embarked on the path of research, thanks to the Lord's guidance. I began to study contemporary church history, which was not pleasant, as we all remember the Seraphim persecution, which can be said to be the beginning of the church's loss of Valois."

The paladin listened patiently as the old man recounted events before the Astral Age. Gradually, his interest was piqued, and he picked up the most exquisitely bound volume, carefully turning the pages as he could.

Unfortunately, his efforts still elicited a small exclamation from the priest: "Show your utmost piety! You are consulting the Holy Decree!"

"This is..." Golden characters caught the paladin's eye, and a surge of power coursed through them, causing him to feel dizzy for a moment: "This is the Lord's decree?!"

"Indeed! This version was personally transcribed by Lord Deplesi, and no other gracious person has been able to replicate it since, or even read it completely."

"How could you just leave such important documents on the table like that?"

"Because this is my private treasure, a gift from Lord Deplesie himself decades ago!" The priest said angrily in the face of the accusation, "I have devoted almost all of my later life to studying and interpreting the last message that the Lord left us."

"The final message?"

"No, not quite the last. This book of oracles records all the oracles heard by the gracious from the Seraphim persecution to the Black Sun. Those were the darkest days for the Church, a time when oracles became increasingly brief and rare, and thereafter they were mostly related to warding off evil spirits."

"After the black sun illusion created by evil spirits appeared, the Lord used His power to cleanse us of the filth, and almost all divine arts were restored to the level before the Age of Silence, but no more divine oracle was sent down."

"Until sixteen years ago, His Holiness the Pope heard the great voice again after a long absence, and thus began his pilgrimage to the Promised World! We have not been abandoned by the Lord! We are the only chosen ones!"

At this point, the old man became extremely agitated, almost rising from his chair. The paladin listened in silence, then suddenly uttered a shockingly blasphemous question: "Was the final message truly from the Lord?"

The priest felt his blood rush to his head, and of course he wanted to vehemently refute, criticize, and even punish this knight whose thoughts had gone astray. But the unease that had once dissipated suddenly swept over him, more intense than before, making it impossible for him to breathe or think.

Yes, did the final decree, the imperial edict that initiated the pilgrimage expedition, truly come from the Lord?

Suddenly, all the portholes shattered, and colorful, deadly light and particles rushed in, threatening to engulf everyone. At the same time, inside the engine room, the sweating technical priest, with a last-ditch effort, activated the energy storage compartment, and stardust instantly and violently filled the storage compartment and the pipes leading to the engine.

The engine was restarting and tearing apart, and even faster than being completely destroyed, it generated tremendous acceleration, successfully ejecting the Temple ship and throwing the remains and survivors outside this death cluster.

After breaking through the fog, coincidentally, a giant ship was waiting for them ahead. The ship was even larger than the airport from which the fleet departed, and the Temple airship, which was comparable to the cathedral, was just a small boat in comparison.

The giant ship did not collide with the wrecked church starship, but instead opened itself to the monks in a way that they could not comprehend at all, as if swallowed whole by a whale.

"You have been taken over by the New Marlin. Please provide your identification!"

(End of this chapter)