Only God

Eden was led back to his cell, and seeing that he was unharmed, the other True Believers there heaved a collective sigh of relief.

Facing the gazes of the others, Eden exhaled and blessed them, speaking many words of comfort. The Priest's words infused these True Believers with tremendous strength.

But when he turned his head, Eden's face betrayed his deep concerns.

"Damn... why haven't I returned to the past yet."

Eden gripped the stone pendant around his neck and cursed involuntarily.

He had been here for three days and even doubted whether he would ever be able to go back, to return to the original world.

If he could not return to the past, how could he begin to change the future? All the True Believers here would shed blood. The local rulers of Arota feared nothing more than blood; they even regarded the blood of True Believers as a sacrifice to the King of Kings.

The only reason these True Believers were still alive was to persuade him to defect.

Leaning against the wall, Eden continuously recited Scriptures, praying to God.

Then, amid the vast darkness, the True Believers noticed Eden's prayer. One by one, they silently closed their eyes, following him, quietly chanting the Scriptures. They gathered, hands clasped in prayer, combining hundreds of faint voices into a surge of faith. The dark clouds in the night seemed to part, and the ominous cells appeared to crack open, allowing holy daylight to pour in.

The heathen guards were startled by the unanimous prayer of the True Believers. They held torches, loudly rebuking the True Believers, banging on the cells, threatening them with punishment or death. But no matter what the heathen soldiers did, they could not prevent more True Believers from joining the prayer. That which could kill the body could not kill the spirit.

The ground was icy, the walls were cold, and darkness enveloped everything. The True Believers prayed for nearly an hour before gradually ceasing. The darkness grew so thick that one couldn't see their own hands in front of their faces; the light from the torches grew dim. No one could see anyone else, and all became peaceful and silent, as if the Death God had visited a graveyard.

In such a peaceful and silent environment, whatever happened, no one would care, no one would notice.

............

In recognition of Priest Bruce's achievements, the local Arota authorities awarded him an additional hundred Gold Coins. In this heathen nation, that sum could buy a dozen fine slaves. Because of the Giant King Sect's doctrine, these slaves were not Giant King believers but came from other faiths. Even if they hoped to renounce their faith to escape slavery, it was neither permitted nor recognized by the local laws.

The sun shone as usual upon the earth. Attended by servants, Priest Bruce changed into simple apparel.

This was done intentionally to shorten the distance between him and Eden, to better persuade the stubborn Priest.

Before departing, Priest Bruce prayed earnestly, appearing from afar to be a learned and kind Priest, with no one suspecting that he had betrayed God's people.

"Priest Bruce, Arota has sent me to ask how many days you need to persuade that foolish Priest."

Just as Priest Bruce was preparing to leave, a messenger from Arota arrived.

"It won't take long, in a week, he will serve us."

That's how Priest Bruce responded.

The messenger from Arota questioned with a hint of doubt:

"I've heard... he's impervious to reason..."

Before the messenger could finish, Priest Bruce interrupted:

"There's no one in the world who's truly impervious to reason.

I've seen many such people at the Divine College.

He's still young, does not yet appreciate the value of life, and hasn't experienced the knife and storms. He believes that sacrifice alone can glorify the Divine, unaware that it is nothing more than zeal.

Trust me, I know how to deal with such people, he has far too many weaknesses."

With these earnest words, Priest Bruce gratified the messenger from Arota.

"Priest Bruce, Arota trusts you completely. You should know what a great honor this is for a fool."

Upon hearing this, Priest Bruce responded:

"I shall not fail to honor this privilege. Just trust me, I've seen many priests like this, and heard even more—their service to you is inevitable.

I assure you, priests like me, ever at your beck and call, will only become more numerous. After all, everyone can see who it is that manifests miracles."

Priest Bruce's flattery greatly pleased Arota's messenger, who had already decided to speak well of Bruce before Arota upon his return.

After bidding farewell, Priest Bruce headed towards the city prison, recalling his own complimentary words as he walked, endlessly admiring his own wit.

"Especially that line, 'After all, everyone can see who it is that manifests miracles.' Even if it's retold, it's enough to strike at Arota's heart. God, I can't believe I said that, thank you for the inspiration you granted me."

Priest Bruce expressed gratitude for God's providence—

"But...to thank God like this...isn't it a bit too shameless?"

Such were Priest Bruce's thoughts when, inexplicably, he felt a twinge of panic.

Perhaps it was a reflection of his former faith at work, or maybe a fraction of his dignity and face remained, as a hint of shame welled up within him.

However, as he drew nearer to the prison, that slight shame was quickly cast aside—

"Shameless, what shameless? Is it shameless to speak the truth? No, that is honesty.

I haven't said anything wrong. How many miracles have the heathen gods shown across the land, their Scriptures piling up one after the other, but us? It's already good if we manage to recover our lost Scriptures.

Not only is my statement not wrong, but it's also perfectly correct. Think about it; if the gods of heresy were not manifesting miracles, why would heresy be victorious at every turn, while the Guardians of the True Religion world—Danschel—retreat step by step?"

Contemplating this, Priest Bruce spoke out passionately in a soft voice:

"In this age, we no longer have miracles."

The dawn's light bathed the earth, and Priest Bruce confidently entered the prison. Upon crossing the threshold, he found the place thrown into utter chaos.

"Summon the Prison Director. What's going on?! What happened here?"

Priest Bruce demanded, puzzled.

For some unknown reason, Bruce felt a vague unease.

"He's gone! He just vanished!"

A heathen soldier screamed loudly.

Priest Bruce froze for a moment, then suddenly felt his hair stand on end. Despite standing in the morning light, his whole being felt as if plunged into a deep freeze, an endless chill greeting him.

He hurriedly lifted his feet, roughly shoved aside the heathen soldiers in his path, and almost charged into the prison cells. His lips quivered, as if in a helpless plea.

The betraying priest arrived at the cell door, ready to grasp the bars, only to find the prisoner gone without a trace, the cell completely empty.

"Disappeared... Disappeared into thin air?!"

Priest Bruce's eyes widened, his stomach tightened, and he muttered in utter astonishment.

The cell was barren, no matter how much it was turned upside down; there was no sign of Eden. The heathen soldiers dragged several True Believers out in an attempt to extract something from them, but nothing was revealed.

The heathen soldiers all believed that Eden had escaped through a tunnel or by breaking out.

Only Priest Bruce stood nearly all morning in front of the prison door, as if a strange and holy vision flooded his imagination, leaving him lost in a daze.

The priest stood with his mouth agape, eyes bulging, his expression one of pain and torment, as if experiencing a terror that split his heart, his ten fingers trembling uncontrollably. Slowly, as if his strength had deserted him, he fell to his knees, continuously crying out:

"Disappeared... Disappeared into thin air?!

Truly vanished...

Just like... just like... Prophet Xilan?!"