North Ufiga, Kankdal.
At midday in Kankdal, the scorching sun blazed overhead. In the local residential and port districts, many North Ufiga natives bustled about under the intense heat. In the foreign residential district, countless expatriate employees working in Kankdal were now enjoying their lunch break, flooding various restaurants with guests.
In one relatively well-known restaurant, gentlemen from various nations of the main continent, dressed impeccably, sat in a comfortable environment, enjoying their meals while engaging in a variety of conversations. The most heated topic at the moment was naturally the recent bombshell: the leader of the Addus Revolutionary Army had declared the Trinity Sect as the only legal religion within Addus, severing ties with all heresies.
When this news broke, it caused an uproar throughout North Ufiga, especially in Kankdal. The issue of heresy in Addus… The deep ties between the Addus Revolutionary Army and heretical forces were well known. The upper and middle classes in Kankdal were even more aware than people on the main continent of what the Addus revolution truly entailed—it was a war jointly initiated by local resistance forces in Addus and foreign heretics. Thus, the relationship between the revolution and the heretics was deeply intertwined; even if differences and tensions existed, the heretical faction was believed to hold more power than the local revolutionary forces.
Therefore, most in Kankdal believed the Addus revolution would fail due to its inability to resolve the issue of integrating heretical forces, leading to intervention from the Holy Mount. The fruitless diplomatic visit by the church’s emissaries seemed to confirm this view. Even when small-scale conflicts were later reported between the local revolutionary forces and heretics, Kankdal’s residents assumed the heretics would come out on top. But the outcome caught everyone completely off guard.
The Addus local revolutionary army had actually severed ties with the heretics? They purged them without plunging into large-scale civil war?! When the people of Kankdal read these headlines, they could hardly believe their eyes. Discussion around the Addus situation had already been going on for two days, and the fervor showed no signs of dying down. Refugees debated when they could return; merchants speculated when the situation would stabilize enough to resume investments; and devout believers spoke of how Sister Vania had miraculously pulled Addus back from the brink of falling into the heretical abyss…
Inside the restaurant, discussions in a multitude of languages echoed nonstop. At a window-side table in the corner, Nephthys ate a plate of noodles while listening closely to the surrounding chatter. Then she spoke to Dorothy, who sat across from her.
“Miss Dorothy, it feels like this incident is even more sensational than the last assassination case. But it seems like a lot of people are siding with the Baruch royal family. They don’t seem to like Shadi much. It’s as if they’d rather see the Church march in than have peace in Addus.”
“Addus is an important country in North Ufiga, and it shares a border with Kankdal. The internal chaos in Addus has impacted Kankdal’s trade quite a bit. So naturally, people here pay close attention to Addus’s affairs. Most of Kankdal’s middle and upper class are foreigners from the main continent—in short, leeches living off the backs of the North Ufigans. Of course they’d look down on Shadi, a native revolutionary.
“But if you’re saying all of them want the Church to wage another war in Addus, that’s not necessarily true. The instability in Addus has already hurt Kankdal’s trade. Most people still hope Addus can stabilize soon. Those adamantly against Shadi are mostly the ones with vested interests in Addus who were deeply tied to Baruch.”Sipping a glass of juice, Dorothy replied while Nephthys, chewing her fork thoughtfully, glanced around and spoke again.
“And… Sister Vania’s reputation has completely reversed, huh? So many people are now talking about how she managed to snatch Addus back from the heretics… When not long ago, they were calling her just a pretty face.”ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ NovᴇlFir(e).nᴇt
Waving her fork, Nephthys spoke animatedly. As a university student, she had a strong appetite for gossip. Back when she heard disparaging comments about Vania, she had felt indignant. Now, finally, she felt vindicated.
“Miss Dorothy, did you know? Some places have already started quietly spreading rumors that Sister Vania is a saint favored by the Holy Mother. Some are even going as far as to claim she’s the Holy Mother incarnate!”
“The Holy Mother incarnate? Hah… the rumors have really gotten that far?”
Hearing this, Dorothy chuckled softly. Then she speared a small piece of steak with her fork and continued speaking.
“But come to think of it, it’s been a long time since the Church has had a rising star like Vania who wields so much public influence. With the Summer Tree incident… and now the Addus affair, she’s becoming downright legendary. For many people now, this is probably the first time they’ve encountered a figure who feels straight out of a holy scripture. It’s understandable that the stories are getting exaggerated… She’s a rising star that one of the Church’s major factions is heavily promoting…”
Dorothy said this with clear intent—public prestige made it easier for Vania to secure her position within the Church’s turbulent, factionalized inner circle.
Back during the Summer Tree incident, Dorothy hadn’t expected things to spiral to this extent. Originally, she just wanted to credit Vania with some merits so she could climb into the Church’s upper ranks and maybe get access to some high-level mystical texts. But unexpectedly, this thrust Vania into the heart of the Church’s internal power struggles. Many now sought to bring her down. If she had known this would be the outcome, Dorothy might have handled things differently back then. She truly hadn’t wanted Vania caught in political warfare—doing so not only endangered her but also made it harder for Dorothy to secretly request her help.
“By the way, Miss Dorothy, according to this morning’s latest newspaper, Sister Vania was appointed as a Relic-Bearing Envoy. Do you know what that job entails?”
“Oh, that? It’s said to be a sacred role involving carrying relics and traveling to preach—one of the oldest and most important positions in the Church. Actually, the newspaper’s report is a bit behind. The delegation from Holy Mount arrived in Kankdal yesterday and conducted the relic handover ceremony with Vania at the cathedral. She’s officially been appointed.”
Having finished the last piece of her steak, Dorothy wiped her mouth as she spoke. Nephthys, hearing this, looked visibly surprised.
“So they’ve already arrived? Miss Dorothy, please tell me—what kind of relic is it?”
With curiosity shining in her eyes, Nephthys leaned in toward Dorothy. Dorothy, recalling yesterday’s exchange with Vania, couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips.
She remembered clearly just how delighted she’d been upon learning that Vania had received the guardianship of a Lantern divine artifact. Dorothy had been fretting over how to secure the remaining divine artifacts—and this one practically delivered itself.
After quite a bit of trouble in Karnak, Dorothy had finally secured the Silence divine artifact. She thought the others would be equally difficult to obtain, but to her surprise, this one simply arrived on her doorstep. Letting Vania hold onto it temporarily while she borrowed it for a while? Not a problem at all. It was practically half in her hands already.
After learning of this surprise yesterday, Dorothy was so delighted that she took several laps around the Kankdal gardens on foot, and then went to the library and read several books in a row just to keep her emotions in check. It was Vania who had informed her of the surprise, in the form of a prayer. At that moment, Dorothy had nearly responded in Aka’s tone with a “Well done!” If Vania had been right in front of her then, Dorothy suspected she might not have been able to stop herself from grabbing the little nun and planting a kiss on her.
“The name of that relic… I think it’s called the Sacred Remains Scripture. They say it was originally the burial cloth of a saint named Vitamio, which was later obtained by another saint and used to write holy scripture upon. Because of that, it carries the blessings of two saints and was elevated through a special ritual to become a divine artifact.”
Controlling the joy in her heart, Dorothy explained to Nephthys. After hearing this, Nephthys seemed to recall something.
“Vitamio… If I remember correctly, he was a saint from a few centuries ago, right? Said to have been martyred during the Ivengard Tainted Stream War, a heroic protector of the Church who was canonized posthumously for his exceptional service during his lifetime… So the relic Sister Vania received is connected to that saint…”
Nephthys tapped her lips thoughtfully as she murmured. As an archaeology student, she had deep knowledge of the world’s mundane history. After hearing the context of the relic, Dorothy’s eyes lit up with interest as well.
“Vitamio… So he was martyred during the Tainted Stream War. That means he lived during the same era as King of Light Emmanuel and the Arrogant King Leo… He stood with the Radiance Church during the turmoil caused by the Afterbirth Cult in Ivengard… Vitamio was one of the major martyrs for the Radiance Church at that time, hence his canonization after death. And that relic was originally his burial shroud…”
As she listened to Nephthys, Dorothy immediately recalled the knowledge she had about the Tainted Stream War, one of the extremely rare instances in the Fourth Epoch of direct conflict between heretics and the Radiance Church. The Arrogant King Leo, supported by the Afterbirth Cult, had even attacked the protectorate nations of the Church and struck directly at the Church’s doorstep. It had a tremendous impact. Dorothy herself had once visited Emmanuel’s crown up close.
“But that aside, Miss Dorothy, you said that Sacred Remains Scripture was later used and altered by another saint… Who was that second saint? If they were canonized as well, does that mean they were also martyred?”
Vania asked Dorothy at this point, and Dorothy shook her head in reply.
“That part I don’t know. The information Vania received from the Church didn’t include any details about that second saint. It only mentioned that there was one…”
“No detailed information… Then—could it be that this wasn’t just an ordinary saint, but a living saint?”
Nephthys speculated after hearing Dorothy’s response. Dorothy paused for a moment, then slowly replied.
“That… is possible.”
In the eyes of the mundane world, a “saint” was the highest honorary title bestowed by the Radiance Church to those who had made great contributions to the faith. Normally, only revered believers who died for the Church were granted sainthood—Vitamio being a textbook example. However, in addition to these ordinary saints, there existed a special category known as living saints—individuals who held the title of saint while still alive.
In the Radiance Church hierarchy, the criteria for designating a living saint were not public or transparent. Their number was fixed at seven—no more, no less. The titles of the Seven Living Saints were also fixed and never changed.
Allegedly, the origin of the Seven Living Saints traced back to the Savior’s advent, when seven apostles were chosen from among mortals. These seven became the foundational pillars of the Radiance Church. Among them, one was the first pope. After the apostles passed away one by one, each selected a successor among the most devout believers, passing down their titles and status within the Church. These successors were called the Seven Living Saints. Among them, the one at the head became the Pope, and the remaining six served as Cardinals—together forming the supreme authority of the Church.
Except in rare circumstances, the Seven Living Saints served for life. Upon the death or retirement of one, a successor would be chosen to inherit the name of one of the original Seven Apostles. At that point, the successor’s original name and identity would be erased. Thus, in the Church’s 1,300-year history, all Living Saints have used the same seven titles.
Because the Seven Saints always appear in public wearing masks to conceal their faces, the public has no way of identifying them or knowing when a change of titleholder has occurred—how many times the positions have changed is a complete mystery. As a result, to the general public, the Seven Living Saints are almost indistinguishable from the original Apostles described in holy scripture. They are viewed as the Apostles themselves, walking among mortals. However, shifts in governance style among the Seven suggest that personnel changes have indeed taken place over time.
Seated in her chair, Dorothy recalled what she knew about the saints in both the mundane and mystical worlds, and also speculated on why the Church would not disclose information about the second saint associated with the Sacred Remains Scripture. It was likely because that individual was a Living Saint. Perhaps, before their canonization, they had worked with the scroll while still living as a regular Church member. Since the Church kept all pre-canonization identities of Living Saints strictly confidential, they would not disclose such details.
With that thought, another idea suddenly struck Dorothy. Ever since her encounter with Rachman, she understood that many mystical organizations and nations, in order to stabilize the inheritance of high-tier Beyonder paths, had implemented inheritance rituals beyond the normal ascension systems—rituals that reduced the difficulty of advancement. Addus’s King-Refinement Rite was one such example. If that was the case for Addus and many other nations, then what about the largest mystical organization of them all—the Radiance Church?
With the Radiance Church’s immense scale, cultivating stable Crimson-rank Beyonders was surely not difficult. But what about those above Crimson—those at the Gold rank? Even if they could use the entire strength of the Church to cultivate one or two individuals through normal means, would that really be enough to dominate the world?
“So then… could it be that the Church’s unique system of the Seven Living Saints is itself a form of stabilized Beyonder inheritance, akin to the King-Refinement Rite? In the eyes of the public, the titles of the Seven Living Saints have never changed. In a way, by erasing their personal identities, these Seven Living Saints have perpetuated the influence of the original Apostles. They are not seen as successors—but as the continuation of the Apostles themselves. Could the Seven Living Saints actually be seven Gold-rank Beyonders with stable succession, immune to unexpected losses?
“And this Lantern spirituality… isn’t it precisely a domain related to public perception and recognition…?”