The town of Muxi entered a state of heightened military preparedness. Truckloads of supplies, including grain, arrows, and explosives, were being transported to the army's garrison, and the sounds of drills echoed day and night from the training grounds. While the townspeople knew that the Muxi Knights were frequently engaged in military campaigns and had never suffered a defeat, they had never witnessed such large-scale war preparations. Rumors circulated that the Knights were about to pull off a major operation.

The troops were busy training, the farmers were busy planting crops, and the scholars were busy conducting experiments. In the entire town of Muxi, only one person was idle, with nothing to do.

From the Battle of Twilight to the North Island expedition, and then to the commencement of trade, Todd had been working non-stop for months. Now, he finally has a rare moment to relax and rest.

However, the commander-in-chief, who was used to being busy, felt uncomfortable and lost when he had free time.

Todd went to check out the biochemical plant today, the construction site in Twilight Town tomorrow, and then visited the Holy Order Arbitration Court the day after. After all that, he didn't help anywhere he went, but instead attracted a rush of worshippers, disrupting the town's previously smooth operation.

Left with no other option, Todd simply stopped wandering around and stayed at the Knights' headquarters.

One morning, after reviewing a backlog of official documents, Todd walked to the garden of the Knights' headquarters and stretched towards the sun.

A heated argument startled him from his calm and tranquility.

Following the sound to the main hall of the Knights, Todd found the soldiers guarding the door peering through the crack in the door. He frowned and coughed twice.

"Commander-in-Chief!"

The soldier turned around, saw who it was, and was so frightened he almost fell to the ground.

To reassure them, Todd gently pushed open the hall door.

The Knights' assembly hall was modeled after the chapel of the San Sidlow Monastery, complete with a massive pulpit, hundreds of benches, and a towering Holy Cross. The hall was packed with no fewer than a hundred people, but Todd's arrival didn't draw any attention; everyone's focus was on the pulpit.

Three enormous wooden boards were placed in a fan shape on the high platform, each covered with equations and numbers written in charcoal. Seven or eight monks stood in front of the first board, a group of students stood in front of the second board, and only a man wearing a white turban stood in front of the third board.

Todd squinted and strained to see ahead. He recognized the leaders in front of the wooden plank: Brother Joe, Ulysses, and Kendi. The three factions were having a heated discussion about electrical energy and magnetic energy, respectively.

On the platform was a glass tank containing some small magnetic needles and a Tesla parasite. As the parasite wriggled and glowed, the magnetic needles changed direction constantly, following the direction of the parasite's movement.

"Lord Todd has already told us about the existence of electrical and magnetic energy. I believe we've reached a consensus on the forms of energy; now the key is the relationship between electrical and magnetic energy. Look at this electrified worm; it can change the direction of the surrounding magnetic field..."

Kendi's eloquent speech surprised Todd.

Led by Joe, the monks took out books from the monastery's collection and began to refute the claims of the southern pagans: "The book in my hand—'The Theory of the Celestial Phenomena of the Sacred Source'—was written by Master Ansubalko in the 255th year of the Christian calendar. It explains the generation of lightning from the perspective of spiritual transformation."

Kendi laughed: "The ideas in that book have been proven wrong by another book 130 years after its publication..."

Joe glanced at the book in his hand and asked in confusion, "An error? I've never heard of such a thing. Which book is it?"

"Curtis Lionel, a Papal Statesman, authored a work entitled 'On the Origin of the Atmosphere,' which, according to the timeline of the Church of the Father, should have been published in the year 492 of the papal calendar."

The monks looked surprised and said in disbelief, "Is there such a work? Why have we never heard of such a scholar?"

Kendi put down his charcoal pencil and looked at the church murals on the ceiling of the synagogue, his eyes filled with regret and sorrow: "Mr. Curtis was a great physicist, astronomer, and mathematician. When he finished this book and wanted to publish it, his teachers, friends, and family all strongly dissuaded him. He chose truth over life. Then, the church condemned him as a heretic and, after three years of imprisonment, burned him at the stake."

The hall fell silent upon hearing this. The monks and students wore varied expressions. In the sanctuary of the Knights of the Church, hearing a southern pagan recount a tragedy caused by the church left them with mixed feelings, unsure how to respond.

Kendi continued, “Mr. Curtis’s book was banned by the church and could not be seen in the parish. Back then, an Abbasid merchant bought a copy of the book at a high price and donated it to the Basra Grand Library. There are far too many examples like this. The Church of the Father and the Orthodox Church put fear above truth, which is the biggest difference between the religions of the South and the North.”

Todd sat in his seat, quietly sensing the silent solemnity in the hall, recalling a comment from his previous life about the medieval Arab Empire—"a light in the dark ages, a freezer of human knowledge and civilization."

The sounds of scholars' discussions returned to Todd's ears. As the Grand Master of the Knights of the Church, he quietly moved backward. He did not intend to show himself, but chose to leave this sanctuary of scholarship to these people who still retained their hearts for truth.

Back in his small laboratory building, Todd was lost in thought. Looking at the lab equipment filling the room, his mind drifted between Kendi's earlier remarks and the future of the Knights. Suddenly, his gaze fell upon something—Kendi's fossil box.

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