“Ahem!”
Realizing that after picking himself up he had stared blankly in full view of everyone for at least two minutes, Lynch cleared his throat, adjusted his top hat, brushed off his suit, and put on a solemn expression.
“It's nothing. I simply heard a whisper from the dark night. Praise the Serene Night.”
“Hmm?”
Archbishop Trinlais took two steps back, looking Lynch up and down. Suddenly, his expression turned solemn, and he backed up two more steps before bowing deeply to Lynch.
Following his gesture, the black-robed figures in the darkness bowed in unison. In the blink of an eye, only Lynch and an astonished President Olei were left standing upright in the cathedral hallway.
“Praise the night of mystery. Praise the favor of the night.”
“Praise the night of mystery. Praise the favor of the night.”
Trinlais led the chant in a low, reverent voice, followed immediately by the synchronized praise of the many black-robed figures. As the choir-like chant echoed, a sacred aura resonated down the hallway. Coming to a sudden realization, Lynch and the president subconsciously pressed their hands against their chests and bowed their heads, making a small inclination toward the void. In this moment, though the cathedral resounded with hymns of praise, it somehow felt solemn and silent—contradictory, yet unified.
Like a soft night breeze stirring, gently brushing through the hallway, everyone's heart filled with a serene tranquility, as if they had returned to childhood, lying in a cradle and listening to a mother gently humming a lullaby.
The gentle breeze passed through the corridor, and true silence returned to the cathedral, yet everyone remained in their original postures, lingering in the taste of a rare peace amid a chaotic world.
Who knew how much time had passed before Lynch let out a soft sigh, awakening from the lingering sensation. Raising his head, he found the people around him were also gradually snapping out of it, though the way everyone looked at him was a bit strange.
“Welcome, follower of the Crimson Lady.” Trinlais's smile grew increasingly peculiar, and his demeanor became visibly respectful as his fingers slowly drew a five-pointed star across his chest, his voice deep and powerful. “Welcome, favored child of the quiet night.”
Lynch froze, realizing something wasn't quite right.
“Yes, child. The Lord personally left a mark of divine favor upon you. This is an honor that only the most devout of her faithful servants can receive. In over seventy years, I have never seen the Lord's divine favor bestowed upon anyone outside the church. You are the sole exception.”
The old man smiled kindly and said softly:
“I can still remember the first time I saw you—standing blankly in the crowd, your eyes filled with confusion and fear. Heh, I remember being quite startled when you said you had no faith at all back then. Even if I had exhausted every prophetic arcana at my disposal back then, I probably could never have imagined that one day you would stand before me in your current state. I was quite disappointed at the time that I couldn't bring you into the church, but once it was clear you would follow the footsteps of the crimson moon, I understood that everything happens for a reason.”
Lynch frowned slightly, taking in Trinlais's attitude. “So, what I received isn't just an ordinary divine mark?”
“Ordinary?”
The corner of Trinlais's mouth twitched, making Lynch genuinely concerned for the old man's blood pressure.
“Uh, I have several marks on me too, though they're all from evil gods.”
“Child, no mark from a Supreme being can ever be called ordinary. What's more, what you received is no mere mark, but divine grace of the highest order. As I said just now, even within the church, only the most devout follower can achieve such an honor. It seems you failed to grasp the weight of the word 'most.'”
“Hss... The Pope?”
“Yes, this is divine grace that only a pope is qualified to bear, yet now it appears on a non-believer. Do you know what this means? It means that from now on, whenever and wherever, you are the most honored guest of the church. Any request you make—so long as it does not tarnish the Lord's glory—will not be refused.” Trinlais let out a deep sigh, speaking with no small amount of envy. “So, child, could you satisfy my curiosity? Tell me, what on earth did you do to win the Lord's favor and be granted such unprecedented grace?”
Hm? How am I supposed to answer that?
Am I supposed to say your old aunt pulled me into a dream, we engaged in a verbal slanging match, and because she got mad at me giving her nicknames, she kicked me back out?
Setting aside whether you'd even believe me if I said that, if I actually dared to say it, you'd probably be the very first person trying to murder me.
Lynch didn't dare test whether that outcome would come true, so he could only chuckle awkwardly. “The crimson moonlight forever shines in the night sky. Following in the footsteps of the red moon, I shall naturally have nothing to fear in the night.”
“I see. I roughly understand what happened now.” The archbishop nodded meaningfully. “In that case, I wish you good luck. May the crimson moonlight shine upon this world once more.”
“Thank you.” Lynch smiled. “So, about this manifestation grade mystery relic...”
“The Lord has already handed down an oracle. We will cooperate with you fully on this matter, so you no longer need to worry about its safety. As for the subsequent protection details, we will discuss them with President Olei and do our utmost to keep it secure.”
“There shouldn't be much of a problem, right?”
“Heh, rest assured, child. Although there was a mishap when transporting Red Moon Memories previously, that was because we were caught unprepared and schemed against from the shadows, and it was being transported out in the wild. Now that it has set foot on the Lord's domain, losing it again would be far too embarrassing. So worry not—with President Olei holding the line here, I guarantee nothing will go wrong over the next few days. However, do you only need us to safeguard it? What are your plans for it?”
“I'm not entirely sure about the details. Right now, I only know that this thing can be used to cure the plague, but as for the specific principles, methods, and whether it works against occult plagues, I have no idea at all. I still need to consult with Mrs. Nightingale. After all, her church is where this thing originated, so perhaps they can offer some insight. But before that, I'd like to borrow a safe place from you to perform a deep reading on it.”
“Are you sure?” The archbishop was quite surprised. “I've heard that your inspiration and willpower are both exceptionally strong, but this is a manifestation grade mystery relic after all. Reading it directly is far too dangerous.”
“I know, so I don't plan on reading it all at once. I'll just break it down into several sessions. Hmm, I estimate around ten hours or so should be enough.”
“Huh? Don't tell me you actually considered reading it all in one go? And splitting it into ten hours is enough? That's only two or three sessions with breaks. Are you sure your mind can withstand such intense psychic shock?” The archbishop felt his blood pressure rising again and took several deep breaths. “Furthermore, I'm not referring to mere filthy psychic shock. All manifestation grade mystery relics contain traces of overflowing Divine Authority. Reading them directly is no different from looking directly at a Supreme being. Are you truly prepared to look directly at a Supreme being?”
“I know. It's not like it's my first time looking at them.”
Lynch began counting on his fingers. When Archbishop Trinlais saw him move on to his second hand, he let out a long sigh and gave up trying to persuade him altogether.
“Follow me then. I'll take you to the meditation room. Good luck.”
Rate on N.U.
