Chapter 1267: Sanctum and the Pope
Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
In the world of Collow, if there was still one last lighthouse in the darkness; one last recognized sacred land in the eyes of the earthly kingdoms; and one last pure land in the endless chaos, it was the Sanctum.
Ever since the ancient giant, Rockmarton, crushed the earth and broke Collow into five pieces, which were now drifting in the Sea of Carnos, the evil Chaos and dark powers were forever devouring the Kingdoms of Order.
The Chaos had swallowed entirely the mysterious realm of Kanaan thousands of years ago. When the last Lighthouse of Order went out on that continent, the power of the Kingdoms of Order could no longer recapture the land there. That land was permanently gone.
The rest of the continents were also swaying in the raging storm of Chaos, facing the fate of being devoured any time.
It was only the Sanctum, the land that floated in the center of the void and shrouded in light for thousands of years, was immune.
It was only until recently that the light of Asurmen suddenly dimmed.
When looking from the void of endless darkness, Sanctum was like a regular inverted cone with a nearly perfect contour: a perfect circular edge, the continental base of the inverted cone symmetrical to the central axis, and the gently sloping terrain gradually moved up the center as if an incredibly perfect humanmade object. There was no wonder that some scholars had speculated that Sanctum was initially a nail that the G.o.ddess of Creation created to nail it into Lockmarton’s forehead. On the pedestal, there were streams of faint light flowing on the crystalline substance found between the soil and the rock. Scholars had suspected that this light, forming a ma.s.sive rune character, was the embodiment of the power of the G.o.ddess of Creation. Throughout the ages, many famous wizards risked their lives to come to the bottom of Sanctum. They looked up and studied the light that flowed, trying to understand the secrets of the power of the world. A few of them got a glimpse of the truth and became the most powerful sages and masters in the history of Collow. But many were swallowed by the Sea of Carnos.
The ever-moving light had now weakened to an unprecedented level, only at a fraction of the brightness during its heyday.
There was still a thin light curtain over the sanctum, but this light curtain was just as weak as the light streams below.
In the center of the Sanctum continent, on the high ground guarded by the City of G.o.d’s People built with a triple ring, the sacred crystal peak of Asurmen pointed straight to the sky. This magnificent ‘mountain’ composed of white crystal columns was glowing in the night sky as if it were using its last drop of energy to keep the light s.h.i.+eld on. But anyone in the sanctum could see that this tremendous sacred peak was in decline.
Pope Auguste VII stood on the platform of the Basilica Icon and looked at the nearby Light of Asurmen. This palace on the ‘side of the G.o.d,’ the innermost layer of the City of G.o.d, was the highest sanctuary of the G.o.ddess of Creation, and the closest point the mortals of Collow could get to their G.o.d. Two towers made of white boulders and golden paint formed a door-like structure, which represented the door to the secret realm of G.o.d. The platform of the Icon Palace was located on top of the sky bridge linking the two towers, where only the pope and the bishops could get close. Standing on the platform would allow one to bathe directly in the purest Light of Asurmen. Auguste VII came here every day to meditate for an hour to ponder about the balance and future of the world, drew plans for the sanctum, and make the decisions that affected the life and death of countless people.
But today, he could no longer meditate as usual. The faint light of Asurmen was only bringing a chill to this old man.
The old pope tightened his thick and gorgeous golden robe. He looked up the top of the sacred crystal peak of Asurmen, where there was a shockingly large crack spurting electric arc and luminous fog continuously. The leakage was draining the power of the holy mountain.
Although half of the breach had healed, the self-repair ability of the power of Asurmen seemed to be unable to catch up with the rate of the weakening of the s.h.i.+eld. Probably before the crack could completely heal, the Chaos had already swallowed up the sanctum.
“Your Holiness, there is still no news from Calaxus’ investigation team.” A high-ranking bishop came to Auguste and said softly, interrupting the old pope’s contemplation.
Auguste VII turned slightly. “Is the next group of investigators ready?”
The high-ranking bishop frowned and was hesitant. At last, the bishop said, “Your Holiness, the s.h.i.+eld is weakening, and the high-ranking clergymen have been working day and night to keep the Light of Order burning. We could barely maintain the operation of Asurmen even with the people we have recalled from the various continents. In this circ.u.mstance, we cannot afford to form another—”
“It’s a matter of will,” the old pope said with a gentle tone of voice. His long eyebrows hang down from his eyes, making him look avuncular. But those who knew him would know that the old pope was extremely stubborn. “Send the reserved magic stone to the furnace. We will be able to form a new investigation team.”
“Your Holiness, is Ansu mainland so important?” The high-level bishop could not help but ask. In his opinion, the old pope’s decision was too rash, without reliable and credible reasons, unlike the former style of this wise old man. “Now we are facing huge difficulties. In this case, it is more dangerous to waste even the slightest workforce—”
“Asurmen has given us instructions.” The old pope pointed to the sacred crystal peak in front of him. “There is a light on the continent of Ansu. The appearance of this light has opened up many chambers inside Asurmen. It is a message the sacred mountain sent; it wants to repair itself, and it needs the light on the continent of Ansu. No matter what it is, we need to find and bring it here.”
While saying, the old pope turned slightly and looked at the high-ranking bishop. “In today’s situation, being defensive would mean succ.u.mb to fate, but fight brings hope. We should not act rashly in the past, but now, we can only hope G.o.d will protect us.”
The first part of the old Pope’s words did not impress the bishop. But the second part rendered him speechless. The high-ranking prelate could only nod. “I will carry out the order. The second group of investigators will set off as soon as possible.”
The old pope lowered his eyes and changed the topic. “How is the situation on the other continents?”
“We have lost contact with most of them. The storm of Chaos has blocked most of the routes and magic network signals. At present, we only know that this situation happens simultaneously on all continents. Every single Kingdom of Order is under attack. And the Cult of Armageddon begins to rear its head.”
“The Cult of Armageddon?”
“Those madmen will not miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Your Holiness,” the high-ranking bishop replied. “The stronger the power of Chaos, the mightier the Cult of Armageddon would be. While all kingdoms are struggling to stay afloat, those mad believers will find it easier than ever to take advantage of the situation. The worldly kingdoms are not as united as the sanctum, and they are vulnerable to threats from within themselves.”
“The earthly kingdom has the power of the secular kingdom, and the sanctum has its responsibility. Now we must focus on this storm of Chaos. We could only trust the rulers of those kingdoms for the worldly affairs,” The old pope sighed. “I am only worried about the upcoming ignition ceremony. Now it is the seventh year of the war. The old torchbearer of all kingdoms should have all gone. New torchbearers must take up the responsibility for lighting the Sunscorch Tower in the coming year. When this happens, this situation of the war deteriorates. It is a critical moment. Verrol, I have an ominous premonition; when the eyes and ears of Sanctum are obscured, the world is rapidly tilting towards the darkness, and many things are beyond our imagination and control.”
The high-ranking bishop was silent for a moment. This question is difficult to answer. At last, the bishop could only give a consolatory response. “The light of Asurmen will light up again. At that time, the clouds will disperse, and Order will be restored to Sanctum.”
“Verror, hope things will go as you said. If there is nothing else, you shall leave me.”
The high-ranking bishop left. Auguste VII turned around after a moment of silence. He looked at the sacred crystal peak of Asurmen and said to the empty air, “Prepare the ‘door.’ Let us go to the Astral Chamber.”
Ripples suddenly appeared in the air, and then a person in a white robe, whose body looked like a phantom, shrouded in blue light emerged. It was a woman, but her face was blurry and almost indistinguishable. The gatekeeper of Asurmen, the gatekeeper, the lofty sacrificer—she was the ancient soul living as one with the crystal sacred mountain.
Auguste VII knew that the gatekeeper was almost as old as the history of the church. Many generations of the pope had pa.s.sed, but this gatekeeper was always the same.
Even Pope Auguste VII could not understand this gatekeeper whose only job was to guide and open the door. She never talked. Auguste was not even sure if this ancient soul was used to be a human.
The gatekeeper nodded silently. And after that, a light door appeared out of thin air behind the gather.