"Along with the Misty Mountains, there appeared a Holy Hall forged from the bones of various races, within which stands a Holy Image of a young girl bowing in prayer."
"It is exceedingly difficult for the Divine Spirit to utterly fall, especially those Ancient Gods born from the world’s origin."
"For them, death is not the end; they are forever waiting for a moment, and as long as the time is ripe, they can resurrect once again."
"However, the Ancient God’s resurrection plan ultimately failed, as its power was completely suppressed by that Holy Image."
"In the end, the Saintess transformed all of herself into this Holy Image, perpetually suppressing the Divine Spirit, denying it any chance of revival."
"And the Mist Monastery was established for this very reason, inheriting the Saintess’s will, guarding the seal, giving the Ancient God no opportunity."
The Archbishop looked up at the Holy Hall space, which with time no longer revealed the original grim form of bones, and nodded slightly.
Very soon, it will be completely successful.
"Perhaps in another millennium, it will completely vanish, thoroughly merging with the Sea of Chaos."
Herbert frowned deeply, shaken after hearing the Epic’s tale, awed by the mighty woman’s feat.
The story indeed seemed to have depth, but he always felt something was amiss.
Yet, simultaneously, he thought of a crucial point.
"Your Excellency Archbishop, is there perhaps some hidden truth in this?"
Herbert squinted, carefully observing the Holy Image’s posture, unable to sense any pain or struggle from it.
She most likely did it willingly.
"If the Saintess, even after death, could suppress the Ancient God, why didn’t she completely destroy it back then?"
If his guess was correct, the Saintess was dominant in that confrontation.
"You noticed this point."
The elder nodded approvingly, then sighed with a light shake of his head, "Just as you thought, the Saintess ultimately suppressed the Ancient God, able to completely digest and replace it."
With just one more step, she could seize all of the Ancient God, ignite the Divine Fire, raise the Divine Throne, and fully ascend to the heavens.
But she gave up, refusing to become an Ascender.
"The Saintess didn’t do so, partly due to her steadfast refusal to become a god, and perhaps also due to her great love."
"For this Saintess who loved all things in the world, even the evil Ancient God, it might have been possible to be saved."
Did the Saintess become the Holy Mother at the last moment?
Yet he truly doubted that such a presence, with the courage to storm the Divine Kingdom, would change her mind at the last moment for such a laughable reason like ’soft-heartedness.’
Did she discover something at the last moment?
"Child, no need to overthink."
As Herbert was lost in wild thoughts, the Archbishop’s voice once again pulled him from his confusion.
"This was her destiny."
"Saint Nenasha, because of her love strong enough to be called greed, willingly walked the path covered with blood and thorns."
"She saved all beings and ultimately met her end through salvation."
"This was her love, a love twisted enough to be called great love."
"For her, love is redemption."
"Be it for the saved or the savior, it is a redemption."
At the moment of these words, Herbert’s mind involuntarily recalled the seductive whispers of the Harmonious God, with some anger and sarcasm:
It saw the love of all beings as a curse, attributing all sins to it.
This perspective seemed to be in stark contrast to Saint Nenasha’s thoughts, yet Herbert faintly felt there was some connection between the two.
They share the same origin, yet they contradict.
So, since "Saint Nenasha" has completely perished, then who is this "Harmonious God Nenasha" I know?
Is it truly the Saintess reborn, or an Ancient God who stole someone else’s name?
Or... could it be both?
So, my dear ally, who exactly are you?
After pondering silently for a long time, Herbert suppressed all his thoughts and looked at the elder who had been quietly observing him.
"Your Excellency Archbishop, what I don’t understand is, why did you specifically tell me this story?"
Weren’t you here to call me to account?
Why are you telling stories?
The Archbishop shook his head, avoiding a direct answer to his question, instead asking, "Child, after hearing this story, what are your thoughts?"
Herbert squinted, knowing that the real turning point was here, and his next answer would affect all future developments.
After a moment, Herbert took a deep breath, straightened his back, and looked directly into the elder’s eyes.
Frankly spoke words that should never be uttered in the Monastery, the heretical and Fallen words.
"I believe that Demons... are not all evil." Thɪs chapter is updatᴇd by N()velFire.net
"They are an Alien Race, not heretics."
These were words of blasphemy.
"They can also be trusted."
He once again expressed his view.
"In the images you showed me, there was one that left a deep impression on me."
"Among the followers behind the Saintess, there were not only humans but also many Demons, yet they did not harm each other, instead, they worked together, with one heart and mind."
"So, as long as the conditions are right, Demons can also be harnessed and utilized by us."
These were words of heresy.
He was questioning the correctness of the Scripture.
This was a gamble, one wrong move could lead to eternal damnation.
Yet he still had to say it.
Thud thud thud thud...
His heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline surged, putting him in a state of excitement.
Herbert was gambling.
Instinct told him that the Archbishop had told him so many stories for a special reason.
And certainly something extraordinary.
"Your Excellency Archbishop... is my thought wrong?"
The Holy Hall fell into an unbearable silence once again.
After a long while, when Herbert almost doubted his gamble, the white-haired elder chuckled softly.
He nodded in satisfaction and whispered, "Child, you are very kind and very brave."
"Because of kindness, you think about the plight of Demons and pity the innocent and weak among them."
"Because of courage, you risk severe punishment to ask me..."
At this point, the elder jokingly asked, "Child, are you not afraid of being sentenced to be burned at the stake?"
Other punishments aside, but burning at the stake... well↓well↑
If you bring that up, I’m truly not afraid.
If you dare, burn me to death!
Herbert straightened his back, looked determined, clenched his fist, and said solemnly:
"If only by sentencing me to the stake can make others reflect, I am willing to go into the flames for those innocent ones persecuted!"