Chapter 149: A Dangerous Game

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Mulan left behind only an "impression," a faint trace that gradually deepened over the course of several days. These sporadic signs seeded and took root within the heart of the cleric to such an extent that Mulan might one day intervene directly.

After the prayer concluded, Mulan had already gone ahead. The cleric habitually scanned every corner of the cathedral’s main hall. Finding nothing among the chairs or on the floor, he finally left. This had become his routine—even when he was not leading the prayer, he would come to inspect.

Leaving the hall, the cleric returned to his quarters, a single room sparsely furnished with only clothes and books. His desk was cluttered with multiple books left open at random.

Closing the door behind him, the cleric sat down, reached into a drawer, and took out a locked iron box. After unlocking it, he opened the box to reveal seven flattened sheets of paper, some inscribed with text and others with images.

Frowning, the cleric spread the sheets on the desk. Only the first was purely text; the remaining six bore illustrations: a figure standing beneath holy light gripping a gospel book while clutching a serpent; another kneeling on a blackened earth, covering their face in sorrow; someone holding a gospel book bathed in light; a person gazing upwards towards the sky illuminated by radiance; a body entwined by poisonous snakes; and a figure standing on the ground looking skyward, yet the gospel book lay abandoned on the earth.

The last image was the most peculiar. It seemed as if a beam of sacred light cascaded down, but a massive object blocked the sky, casting a vast shadow over the land. Within that shadow was a vague humanoid form, and atop the mountains were strange protrusions. Even more unsettling was the serpents coiling around this human-like shape.

Hidden within the shadow of the final image were minuscule words, discovered only after the cleric searched several times with a magnifying glass. The inscription read: "My heart."

The cleric knew that the correct sequence of these images and texts was clearly not the order in which he had found them. Evidently, the believer who created them was in a state of turmoil.

His breath trembled slightly as he rearranged the images according to the order in his mind.

Staring at the pictures, the cleric felt immense inner anguish. He understood the meaning behind them: a devout follower of the holy light was falling into corruption—not due to demonic forces, but because of the gospel book itself.

It was absurd. Impossible. Absolutely impossible!

Yet, each time the cleric found one of these notes, he could palpably sense the intense devotion to the holy light, the internal struggle and agony, the unbearable torment of one who has lost all hope.

As the radiant knight Mulan Jonster once said after glimpsing that person: they were in great pain.

Though the texts were disordered, the cleric vaguely grasped that this pain stemmed from a person of unwavering faith beginning to doubt their own beliefs. It was the collapse of conviction—regardless of whether this was an ordinary person, it was the disintegration of the very force of their existence.

Just as depicted in the final drawing, the believer’s heart had become that shapeless shadow, their will nearly shattered, possibly even undergoing mutation.

The cleric himself was torn inside. He knew this believer was in grave danger—both to themselves and others. Perhaps now was the time to inform the higher authorities.

"Holy Light, save your faithful!" he whispered, kissing the pendant of the holy light upon his chest, sincerely praying for the believer.

After a long moment, he stood, burdened with guilt, and went to find the bishop.

Minutes later, within the grand cathedral of Digo, a young cleric and a bishop met with the archbishop.

The archbishop held the papers, sensing within them a profound rupture—a faint chaotic aura wherein light and darkness intertwined.

"We must find him quickly—he is dangerous! Why did you only tell us now?"

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The archbishop looked sternly at the young cleric, who answered honestly.

"I wanted to honor my promise to the believer. Even though I had never met him, I wished to keep his secret. I tried to help, but his condition worsened, so I reported it to you."

"Sigh, we must act swiftly."

"Should we notify the Black Castle? In Digo, we theoretically need their permission."

The archbishop shook his head.

"We are only searching for a lost believer. This is an internal matter of the cathedral; there’s no need to alarm the Black Castle."

"But, Your Excellency, if something goes wrong, the Black Castle will be very displeased afterward." The young cleric hesitated, then cautiously added, "Perhaps we could seek help from Mulan Jonster."

"Him?" The archbishop pondered. Indeed, Jonster was an exceptionally devout believer who often sought peace within the cathedral. The archbishop held a favorable impression of Mulan, but recalling Mulan’s close friendship with Elvin, he frowned slightly.

"Still no. The Jonster family serves as the sword of the Dierga royal house. Though he is devout, his loyalty to the Dierga crown means he would inevitably inform the queen."

Is it unacceptable for the queen to know this? The young cleric wanted to ask but held back.

Sensing something, the archbishop looked at him and sighed.

"Child, the Holy Light is divine, but the world is complex. The cathedral stands between the sacred and the mundane, inevitably facing complicated situations. Saving a believer is the cathedral’s fundamental duty. If he falls, only the Holy Light can bring him peace and cleanse his soul. We will handle this matter."

He added, "No word of this to outsiders. You may leave now; we will call on you if necessary."

"Yes."

The young cleric left with a heavy heart. After he departed, the archbishop and bishop stared at the papers once more.

"I didn’t expect he had already reached Digo."

"Who?"

Before the bishop could react, the archbishop’s brow furrowed deeply.

"A once very gifted child, Tyler..."

"Tyler?" The bishop frowned in thought, then his eyes brightened slightly—this name appeared on the emperor’s gray list.

"Prepare immediately. Gather capable and trustworthy clerics, bring sufficient equipment. We must find him—I will also intervene."

"Yes!"

The bishop hurried off, acutely aware the matter was far more serious than he had imagined.

The archbishop’s expression darkened. The aura emanating from the papers was almost certainly Tyler’s, and the intertwined torment of darkness and light made the heart tremble.

Why had he come to Digo? Why expose himself? Or had his mind already begun to unravel?

The situation was likely complex, but one thing the archbishop knew for sure: he had to resolve this and cover up this scandal within the cathedral.

...

A powerful holy force tried to peer through.

Mulan’s will stood like an apostle amidst chaos, gazing distantly at the faint gray papers. A hand made of light grasped the papers, holy power radiating from it—only to be scattered by the surrounding chaos near the apostle’s shadow.

Awakening from a brief nap at his desk, Mulan’s lips curled into a cold smile. Indeed, resonating with Tyler’s aura had been the right choice. That cleric could not bear the pressure and failed to keep the secret. Still, this was not beyond calculation.

Because of this, the young cleric’s guilt would deepen, and Mulan could use the opportunity to observe exactly what kind of person Elvin’s teacher was.

It might be a dangerous game, but in his madness, Mulan was confident in walking the fine line—he had a clear understanding of his own abilities.

If all else failed, retreat was simple enough. After all, Tyler was real and still alive.