Miss Shepherd does not die in the Mysterious World

Chapter 5: The Time to Shepherd Has Come

This voice made Mel tremble all over.

She took a sharp step back and nearly tripped.

Veronica caught her in time and asked with concern: “What's wrong, Mel?”

“N.... nothing.”

Mel shook her head, forcing a smile, but her voice was trembling slightly.

“Maybe... maybe the incense is too strong, I'm a little dizzy.... mhm.”

Sister Irene turned slightly to the side.

Her kind eyes suddenly became deep as she gave Mel a meaningful glance, before resuming her smile.

“Don't worry, this is a normal reaction.”

She said, her tone revealing nothing strange.

“These spices help to relax the mind and body, relieve stress, and of course, they also have a certain calming and sleep-aiding effect.”

Just then, a solemn bell rang from deep within the church.

Hearing the sound, the nun smiled faintly.

“The Lord Bishop's morning prayer has ended. Let's go over.”

Sister Irene led the two sisters through a long corridor.

The walls on both sides of the corridor were inlaid with rows of stained glass windows.

Sunlight projected through the glass, leaving mottled patterns of light and shadow on the floor.

Each window depicted a different scene, but without exception, the blood moon was featured in all of them.

Mel noticed that Sister Irene's steps were very light, almost inaudible.

Only her black robe brushed gently against the floor, making a faint rustling sound.

At the end of the corridor was a heavy oak door carved with intricate reliefs.

Sister Irene gently pushed the door open, gesturing for Mel to enter.

Mel was a little hesitant.

Veronica gently came forward, patted her on the shoulder, and then whispered in her ear:

“Don't worry, big sister is right here.”

Hearing this, Mel took a deep breath and then stepped into the room.

This was a reception room of about twenty square meters.

Unlike the oppressive atmosphere she had imagined, it was covered with white velvet draperies on all sides.

The light in the room was surprisingly bright.

A few beams of sunlight slanted in through the high stained-glass windows, casting mottled light and shadow on the white velvet draperies, making the whole space seem peaceful and serene.

This scene made Mel relax a little.

She noticed a round oak table in the center of the room, its surface meticulously carved with patterns of the changing phases of the moon.

On one side of the table sat a tall middle-aged man.

At this moment, his gaze was gently fixed on Mel as she walked in.

“Welcome, child.”

The bishop's voice was deep.

Then, he suddenly seemed to have noticed something and looked at Mel carefully.

“Could you please step a little closer?”

He asked.

Mel hesitated for a moment, then took two steps forward.

The bishop's gaze swept over her, a look devoid of any distracting thoughts, but instead carrying a bit of reverence.

After a moment, he nodded and smiled again.

“Let me introduce myself, my name is Oliver.”

Bishop Oliver stood up and bowed slightly to the young girl before him.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss New Shepherd.”

Hearing Bishop Oliver's words, Mel snapped her head up.

Her amber pupils widened instantly, her lips trembling slightly.

“Shep.... Shepherd?”

She repeated haltingly, her voice full of uncertainty.

Why did he know this title?

And that statue just now too.

At this moment, an impulse to flee surged in Mel's heart.

Seeing Mel's reaction, Oliver just smiled gently.

He waved his hand lightly, gesturing for Mel to calm down.

“Don't worry, Miss Shepherd, I mean you no harm. It's normal for you not to know your identity. After all, awakening always requires a period of adaptation.”

“Awa.... awakening?”

Mel felt her brain couldn't quite keep up with his train of thought.

“What awakening, what Shepherd... I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Rest assured, I have no malice towards you, and the entire Saint Margaret's Church has no malice towards you. You don't have to worry about us doing anything to you.”

Oliver smiled slightly, “On the contrary, we would be very happy to offer you help.”

“Why?” Mel frowned, “I... I'm not a believer, and I don't believe in your Lord.”

“But He chose you.”

Oliver's voice was still gentle, “He chose you to become His Shepherd.”

“Who is He?”

“Our Lord.”

“And your Lord is—”

Mel didn't finish her sentence, because she saw Oliver's expression suddenly become serious.

It was also at this moment that she remembered a phrase:

One must not speak the name of a god directly.

“Sorry.... I was being offensive.”

Mel lowered her head.

Seeing this, the seriousness on Oliver's face disappeared, replaced again by that kind smile.

“I know you have many questions. How should I address you, Miss Shepherd?”

“Mel, Mel Rossetti.”

“Do you mind if I call you by your name directly?”

Oliver asked again.

Mel shook her head gently.

“Then, Miss Mel.”

Oliver spoke gently.

“You can sit down first and bring up all the doubts in your heart. As long as it's something I can answer, I will clear up your confusion. This is also one of my duties.”

As he spoke, he pointed to the chair in front of him, gesturing for Mel to sit.

Hearing this, Mel looked hesitantly at the oak chair inlaid with a wine-red silk cushion.

The chair looked expensive; the fine carvings alone showed extraordinary craftsmanship.

With Oliver's encouragement, Mel sat down cautiously.

The comfortable and soft touch of the silk cushion made her a little unaccustomed.

Her body tensed up unconsciously, her hands placed awkwardly on her knees, as if afraid of soiling the exquisite piece of furniture.

Sister Irene brought a steaming cup of red tea at the right time.

The porcelain cup was painted with a delicate golden lunar wheel.

“This is a special calming tea,” the nun explained softly, “it can help you calm down.”

The tea exuded a faint aroma, a mixture of rose, mint, and some spice Mel couldn't name.

This smell reminded her of the incense in the hall earlier, but in comparison, the one in this cup of tea was not as strong.

“Um... where's my sister?”

Mel looked at the nun, her gaze shifting worriedly to the door.

“Miss Veronica is resting in the guest room.”

The nun explained.

Hearing this, Mel finally relaxed a little.

She then picked up the teacup and took a small sip.

The warm tea slid down her throat, carrying a hint of sweetness.

Mel could feel the spices contained in the tea slowly spreading in her mouth.

The fragrance of rose, the coolness of mint, and that unnamable spice made the tip of her tongue tingle slightly.

“Moonlit Grass.”

Oliver seemed to have seen her confusion and explained: “That is a type of flower that only blooms during a full moon. It can soothe restless souls.”

His gaze fell on Mel's face, and he smiled meaningfully, “And for the awakened, it also has the effect of repairing their essence.”

Mel's fingers tightened unconsciously.

The delicate bone china teacup released warmth into her palm.

She could feel that as the warmth of the tea seeped into her body, a strange sense of calm was slowly spreading.

“You said I am... a Shepherd,” Mel began cautiously, “May I ask, what exactly does Shepherd mean? Also, why do I see those... strange things?”

She remembered the bizarre statue in the hall, and the moon that should have been white in her memory, but was in fact blood-red.

“A Shepherd is an existence chosen by the Lord.”

Oliver began slowly.

“To be precise, an existence chosen by them. Each one of them has their own Shepherd.They can see the reality that ordinary people cannot see, and touch the truth that ordinary people cannot touch.”

Mel noticed that when Oliver mentioned the word "He" (the divine pronoun), his tone carried an indescribable reverence.

“What you see is not something strange.”

Oliver continued, “On the contrary, that is the true side of this world. The world we live in is far more complex than most people realize.”

After a pause, his gaze fell on Mel's eyes, as if he wanted to see everything she saw through those amber pupils.

“So... you still haven't told me what a Shepherd is.”

Mel tried not to avoid his gaze and said.

Hearing this, Oliver smiled lightly.

“That is not for me to tell you. When you were chosen by Him, He should have already told you.”

“But that voice...”

Mel's eyes widened, but in the end, she couldn't bring herself to say what she was about to.

“Shepherds have a special ability, they can convert others into their own flock. As the flock continues to expand, the Shepherds will also gain benefits from it. Although I don't know the specifics of how to do it, I think you should have already received His revelation. He has already told you how to convert others into your own flock, so what you need to do next is very simple.”

Oliver said.

“Do what a Shepherd should do, shepherd.”

“Shepherd....?”

Mel's voice trembled slightly.

She lowered her head, looking at her slightly shaking hands.

Those voices came again.

(You are the chosen shepherd)

(Go kill those impure lambs)

(Go shepherd those lost souls)

Mel covered her head in pain, but the voices were getting clearer and clearer.

Sister Irene wanted to step forward to support her, but was stopped by Oliver.

“She is listening to the divine oracle.”

Oliver said.

“Don't disturb her. Prepare a cup of tea for her.”

Tormented by the whisperings, cold sweat began to bead on Mel's forehead.

She leaned over the table, gasping for breath.

Just then, a cup of calming tea was placed by her hand.

“Drink it, you'll feel much better after drinking it. Listening to the divine oracle consumes a lot of essence for a newly awakened Shepherd.”

Without the slightest hesitation, as if by an infant's instinct to nurse, Mel grabbed the cup of warm tea and drank it all in one gulp.

As her dried-up essence was rehydrated by the warm tea, the chaotic voices began to gradually subside.

Mel raised her head, her amber pupils emitting a strange kind of light.

And then, she saw.

In her field of vision, she saw that everyone was enveloped in a layer of light.

And in those lights, she saw countless twisted shapes, like filth parasitizing their souls.

In that instant, Mel finally understood what the whisperings meant by impure lambs and lost souls.

An ancient whisper echoed in her ears, but this time it no longer gave her a splitting headache.

It said: (The time to shepherd has come)