Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

How is the recycling operation going?

"I've completed 90% of it. In another three days, I should be able to finish all the assignments."

The young clerk, who was waiting for orders, straightened his expression, perked up, and responded earnestly.

"So, what did you find?"

"First, the number of children's skeletons in the stone chamber is only about ten, which is far from the total of more than 140. The priests we sent to various 'crime scenes' also failed to find the remains of the missing children."

"Heh, with things like this, whatever they say goes. Since no one has complained, just believe them."

The priest shook his head and scoffed, clearly showing no interest in the so-called truth.

Seeing this, the young clerk nodded and said no more. Instead, he opened his textbook and reported another discovery.

"Secondly, the floor of the stone chamber still retains a strong magical aura, but all the various incantations on the walls have been violently erased. Our trace experts have tried to restore them, but all attempts have failed, and we have not been able to find any useful clues at present. In addition, there are signs of 'sacred soil' and 'bad soil' in some areas of the site."

"Ok?"

The priest frowned slightly, somewhat puzzled.

The young clerk realized that he had used relatively professional and obscure terminology, so he decisively took out two samples and presented them to his boss in a more intuitive way.

There were two samples of soil in crystal bottles. The one on the left was as white as snow and as lustrous as jade, and even through the protective barrier, it exuded a warm glow.

The one on the right was dark greenish-black, like mud in a pond, and faintly emitted a nauseating fishy smell.

"It seems that Gilles de Rais's summoning ritual was successful, but someone stopped it all."

The priest scrutinized the scene for a moment, his eyes gleaming, and then pondered thoughtfully.

As they sorted out their thoughts, they exchanged a long, deep glance, a strong sense of apprehension rising in their eyes.

The fact that the summoning ritual to stop the descent of the evil god and banished that indescribable being back into the void is enough to prove that the other being present was no ordinary being.

The answer behind this incident is far beyond what they can possibly know.

"So, what about that forbidden cult book?"

"It was not found. It must have been destroyed during the ceremony, as Marshal Gilles said, and no longer exists."

"Alright, let's record it like that then."

The priest pondered for a moment, nodded, tapped his fingers on the table, and then asked a question.

"What about François Plelatti, the heretical magician who offered cult classics and touched on taboos?"

"They're still on the run, but the higher-ups have sent more people..."

At this point, the young clerk couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed.

"What? Are those porcelain dolls of the Inquisition Knights really that useless?"

"Ahem, it's probably because we had to negotiate with the magicians at the Clock Tower first, and the news leaked out by accident, which led to the failure of the capture."

"Ha, those disrespectful people from the Magic Association want to join in the fun too? Ignorance is bliss, this is getting more and more interesting."

The priest smirked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Speaking of the Magic Association, it's their Holy Church's old rival.

The struggle between faith and science has never ceased since ancient times.

As the divine era disintegrated, mysterious forces such as the occultists of the Persian Pantheon, the successors of the Athenian Academy, the disciples of King Solomon, and the Egyptian sorcerers, adhering to the principle of "passing down the mysteries as a discipline," successively established magic research institutions in various places, intending to allow human beings to step into the realm of the gods, interpret and control the mysteries.

Since then, many supporters and disciples have emerged in various places, building a considerable number of magical cities.

However, due to the scarcity of ether, the power of traditional magicians was greatly diminished, while the church, driven by faith and based on the earth, rose and grew stronger.

Due to ideological differences, the two sides have clashed many times throughout history, and many magical cities have been closed down one after another under the suppression of the Holy Church.

However, the overly harsh religious trials and the eradication of heretics also led to the persecuted magicians gradually moving from a loose organization to a united front.

Ultimately, a large number of exiled magicians spontaneously flocked to the Magic Association seeking refuge, and joined the three major organizations under the Magic Association based on their region, discipline, and research direction.

That is, the Clock Tower, built on the outskirts of London for the purpose of extensive research and exploration of magic.

The Atlas Institute, located underground in the Atlas Mountains of Egypt, specializes in alchemy and is also known as the "Giants' Secret Vault".

With influence spanning Northern Europe and the Atlantic Ocean, specializing in body modification and magic from the Age of Gods, the Wandering Sea is also known as the "Mobile Stone Coffin."

Among these factors, the Clock Tower exerted a profound influence by occupying the resource-rich Abian Tomb on one hand, and developing education and producing a wealth of talent on the other.

Therefore, by around the 13th century, whenever the Magic Society was mentioned, it was basically referring to the Clock Tower in London, which represented the origin and highest institution of the Magic Society.

After several clashes, the Magic Association and the Holy Church discovered that each other was an insurmountable behemoth, making it virtually impossible to completely destroy the other. Therefore, they had no choice but to shake hands and make peace, tacitly acknowledging each other's existence.

The competition and coexistence between the two sides have shaped the general structure of the mysterious world hidden beneath the iceberg and in the darkness.

Chapter Twenty-Four: First Embrace Under the Moon

The failure of this arrest operation was largely due to the fact that, according to the agreement, it was necessary to communicate with the Magicians Association before taking action against magician François Plelatti.

This inevitably increases the risk of leaks and delays, and the possibility of failure is also unavoidable.

However, these are clearly not things that the Burial Agency and the Eighth Secret Society need to take the blame for or consider.

Therefore, after merely offering a few sympathetic laughs for their incompetent colleagues, the two moved on to the next phase of the discussion.

"According to Gilles de Rae, that stuff causes severe mental pollution. After cleaning up the scene, remember to track and monitor the mental state of these people."

"understand!"

The young clerk nodded slightly, indicating that everything was arranged. He hesitated for a moment, then turned his gaze to several priests in the courtyard, dressed in tight black robes and exuding a sinister aura, and asked a question.

"Then, will everyone in the burial agency also need to undergo a period of mental evaluation?"

"They don't need to do that."

The priest casually declined, glancing nonchalantly at his subordinates, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Because these scum's brains are already somewhat abnormal even without being polluted."

"..."

Upon hearing this, the young man's breath hitched, and he was speechless.

After the report was completed, silence fell over the half-collapsed living room.

The black-clad priest, who was searching for teaware in anticipation of afternoon tea to soothe his throat, glanced back at the young clerk who stood there, looking somewhat conflicted, and casually inquired.

"What, is there anything else?"

"Let me start by saying, could the one who appeared in the stone chamber be that guy from Orleans...?"

The young clerk hesitated for a moment, but still couldn't help but lower his voice and ponder.

As he spoke, the young man's eyes flickered, and he frequently glanced at his colleagues behind him, appearing somewhat cautious about the topic.

“Oh, why would you think that? That saint who saved France, wasn’t she already burned at the stake in Rouen, and even her ashes were scattered into the river?”

The priest raised an eyebrow and asked with interest.

"But Bishop Pierre, who was judging her, disappeared, and the other forty-four priests also met with accidents, some going insane, some dying..."

The young clerk responded quietly, then added in a low voice.

"Soon after, the relics enshrined in the Basilica of Our Lady of Reims also disappeared, and similarly, the bishop who was in charge of guarding it went mad..."

"So, you suspect that the Holy Maiden is still alive?"

The priest's gaze was meaningful; though it was a rhetorical question, there was an inexplicable certainty in his tone.

"Or do you want her to live?"

From the moment he entered the mansion, the young man before him unintentionally showed a subtle respect and support for both the infamous "Bluebeard" Marshal and the French saintess.

"I am French..."

Under his boss's watchful gaze, the young clerk sighed, a bitter smile creeping onto his pursed lips.

"Don't be nervous, we're just chatting casually. I'm not one of those old-fashioned people from up there."

The priest smiled, his attitude quite nonchalant and casual.

"You probably have more to say than just this, right? If you have any questions, why don't you tell me while I'm in a good mood after having a good meal?"

It seemed that the boss's relaxed attitude made the young clerk break down his defenses. After a moment of silence, he couldn't help but frown and ponder.

"I still don't understand what happened in Rouen. Why would the higher-ups allow a bishop who had already turned away from God to judge another devout believer?"

"The reason is, of course, that a sword is only a good sword when it is in one's own hand. Otherwise, no matter how sharp or shiny it is, if it poses a threat to oneself, it should be destroyed."

The priest seemed quite happy to answer questions and resolve doubts for the confused.

"She is a saint who saves the people..."

The young clerk pursed his lips, looked up, and couldn't help but make a serious statement.

"She is a saint from France, not a saint from the Papacy."

The priest seemed somewhat nonchalant, but then a playful smile appeared on his lips.

“If everyone could bypass the church and receive divine revelation from the Lord, wouldn’t the so-called saints be too cheap?”

Is it true that what's out of control should be destroyed?

The conversation ended there. The young clerk suddenly realized what had happened, lowered his head, bit his lower lip, and did not continue to argue. After several moments of reflection, his complex expression finally calmed down.

The priest withdrew his gaze from the corner of his eye, a hint of disappointment spreading deep in his pupils, but then he kindly reminded him again.

"The saint who saved France has died in Rouen. That's a fact, at least on the surface. Any woman who tries to swindle people by using her name should be burned at the stake! If you encounter her, don't show any favoritism."

"understand……"

The young clerk lowered his eyes, paused briefly, and responded somewhat awkwardly.

He was just a small employee, insignificant as an ant compared to the will of those big shots.

Faith can't put food on the table, and neither can compassion.

"However, it's not all bad news for that saint. If I remember correctly, your King is appealing to the Holy See, hoping to clear the name of this martyred saint. The authorities also intend to canonize her as compensation for her contributions to the relief of the people..."

The priest stood up, patted the young clerk on the shoulder, and smiled reassuringly.

"Don't worry, you will see her statue placed in the church in the future, with the Lord!"

This high-sounding answer even made the young clerk feel nauseous, and a strange sadness rose in his heart.

While she was alive, she was not recognized, and countless people wished for her death; but after she died, she was adored by the masses and became a pure and flawless idol.

How ironic it sounds that this so-called ending is.

Indeed, human nature is too complex; academic research is more suitable for him.

The young clerk shook his head with a sigh, dispelling the jumbled thoughts swirling within him.

As night fell and the moon rose higher, the young clerk grew somewhat disheartened and prepared to bid farewell to his superior, ready to fully immerse himself in a new round of investigation on site.

But before he could speak, an unusual commotion and noise broke out in the courtyard.

The young clerk and priest arrived upon hearing the news and learned from the gathered clergy the general cause of the riot.

For some reason, an outsider girl appeared at the sampling site. No one knew how she managed to bypass the tight magical barrier and the senses of the elite burial mechanism combatants.

Following the direction pointed out by a priest, the priest frowned and looked up, and couldn't help but see a beautiful young girl with short blonde hair, wearing a loose white knit top and a red skirt, squatting on the ground, examining the traces left at the scene.

The surrounding elite warriors, eyeing them covetously, and the priests, exchanging bewildered glances, could not affect the blonde girl's unconventional behavior in the slightest.

After a brief inspection, the girl seemed to lose interest. She patted the dirt off her hands, got up, turned around, and walked out of the courtyard.

As the girl revealed her face, the priest stared at her exquisite features and her pure, ruby-like eyes, momentarily stunned and frozen in place.

"Little girl, you don't seem to know where you are!"

Several agents of the burial agency guarding the outer perimeter saw that the nameless girl who had caused their dereliction of duty was about to swagger away. They could no longer restrain themselves and conjured several black keys gleaming with cold light between their fingers as they stepped forward to intercept her.

However, just as the group drew their weapons, the girl turned around and calmly swept her gaze over them. Anyone whose eyes met hers was terrified, their bodies trembling uncontrollably, and even their breathing became extremely difficult.

The feeling was like that of an ant facing a dragon's provocation.

In the blink of an eye, dozens of priests with weak willpower had their eyes rolled back and they had fainted.

The members of the Vatican were horrified upon seeing this, as if facing a formidable enemy.

Just as the atmosphere between the two sides was becoming increasingly tense, the priest, regaining his senses, immediately stopped his subordinate from taking any further rash actions and stepped forward, speaking urgently to the blonde girl in front of him to show goodwill.