Chapter 88 Chapter 88 Cyril/The Top of the Sacred Tower...
Ten days ago, St. Petersburg.
This small town is located at the westernmost end of the empire and is a pilgrimage site in the hearts of all the Saints in Ceylon and the surrounding countries.
The city is divided into two parts: the inner and outer city. The outer city is home to ordinary residents, while the inner city is populated by Shengyao believers. The believers engage in a life of seclusion, contemplating the truth, supported by resources sent from the outside world and enjoying the envy of the outer city residents.
Of course, the residents of the outer city are the envy of people outside St. Petersburg.
They had a unique advantage over the rest of the country - access to inner-city parochial schools.
The church school only had two courses: Holy Days Doctrine and Production Technology. To attend, one had to possess church membership. This qualification wasn't about choosing a faith, but rather a true identity granted by the church.
Possessing this status meant having one foot in the Inner City. Even if one didn't stay, one could still live comfortably as a clergyman elsewhere. Therefore, whenever a vacancy became available, residents of the Outer City scrambled for it.
When faith is linked to interests, the city's fanatical religious atmosphere forms an almost indestructible barrier, guarding their gods layer by layer.
The first day of every month is a pilgrimage day. According to custom, everyone gathers in the central square to pray to Mount Gurramis.
The most famous peak of the Gurlemis Mountains is Mount Morpheus. The snow there never melts, creating a breathtaking spectacle under the sunlight. It is a favorite attraction for many visitors to St. Petersburg's outer city.
Of course, believers do not pray for the beauty of the scenery.
Atop Mount Morpheus lies a magnificent complex of buildings. From the foot of the mountain, the staircase ascends with seemingly no end in sight. A single towering spire reaches into the clouds. It is said to be the abode of the gods—the Temple of the Garan.
The Holy Light Church has clear class distinctions, and not everyone is qualified to make the pilgrimage. Only those who can enter the Holy Temple of the Garan must be at least a minor bishop or above.
Sophia was an exception. She was not a full-time nun in the monastery, nor did she make great contributions among the lay believers, but she had the right to enter and leave the temple freely.
Every time they arrived, little believers in snow-white robes came to greet them.
"The Venerable is waiting for you."
The same is true this time.
Sophia climbed the last step. The expressionless young believer was already waiting there, mechanically conveying the Pope's instructions.
Summer had arrived at the foot of the mountain, but the mountain itself was still clad in white. The palaces and towers were covered in pure white snow, and everything seemed pure and peaceful, much like the meaning of this temple.
Sophia smiled sarcastically and walked straight towards the tower.
The young believer followed behind and advised her to tidy up her appearance, but she ignored him and walked in unkempt.
The palace was magnificent, with a mirror-clear marble floor. Every three steps, an adult waiter stood along the colonnade. They were neatly dressed and stared at Sophia indifferently, as if they were looking at an alien.
Sophia didn't care and walked through the palaces until she saw the familiar figure.
She did not kneel down devoutly as she had done before, but just stood there silently.
Cyril sat by the fireplace with his back to her, holding a fat little orange cat in his arms, reading a book while watching the snow outside the window.
"Are you back?" Cyril didn't turn around and spoke in a natural tone.
It seemed like Sophia was just out for a little fun.
Sophia chuckled, "I'm no longer useful to you, so why would you protect me?"
Cyril glanced at her, his eyes falling on Sophia's thin summer dress, "Rocky, give her something more."
The young believer who had led the way came in and seemed to be hesitant to speak.
Sophia: "Don't bother. I won't stay long."
Cyril sighed, "Do you have anywhere else to go besides here?"
Sophia did not answer. Her eyes fell on Cyril's fingers. His slender hands gently combed the fur of the orange cat. The cat lay obediently and docilely in his arms, relying entirely on its savior.
The incarnation of God on earth is always kind and compassionate. He likes to save weak lives and give them hope of rebirth.
A long, long time ago, it was also a snowy day like this.
Sophia, who was still a young girl, held her mother's body and walked for a long time in the streets filled with dirt and filth. She heard wanton laughter or sad cries coming from the rooms she passed by, and seemed to see her own future.
She didn't cry when she was kicked out of the Spencer family, and she didn't cry when she was almost bullied by a drunk client. As spring was about to come and her mother's body was slowly rotting, Sophia looked up at the sky and suddenly wanted to pray to God to give her mother back to her.
That day, the gods really appeared.
He was wearing a clean snow-white robe. He was very young, just a teenager - with light golden eyes, long blond hair, and a gentle and compassionate expression. He was like the savior that everyone imagined, coming to the world.
But after all, there are things that gods cannot do. He cannot save a dead person, but he took Sophia's hand and walked out of the street, out of the predetermined fate.
So much so that even now, a long time later, Sophia still hasn't forgotten that day - Cyril stretched out his hand, which was white and clean, and she wiped her hand again and again in embarrassment before she dared to hold his sleeve.
She is no different from the cat. She thinks she has God's mercy, but it is all an illusion.
"Cyril." Sophia suddenly smiled. In the most sacred temple, she addressed the Pope by name, her eyes completely devoid of fear. "Is it tiring to pretend to be a god? Is it tiring to pretend to love the world with kindness? You should have expected me to come this far. Now, pretending like this, aren't you really tired?"
Sophia shrugged. "You're not tired, but I am. I don't want to pretend anymore."
The faces of the young believers, led by Rocky, suddenly changed, and they gathered around and came forward.
Cyril slowly stretched out his hand and waved it, signaling them to leave.
He wasn't surprised by Sophia's sudden change of tone. Her pale golden eyes remained calm, as if to say, "I tolerate your impudence and won't blame you for it."
"If you're tired, go and rest." Cyril said calmly, "I won't interfere with your future plans. If you want to start over, the Holy Light Church will still support you. If you don't want to, then live here. Gryffin can't hurt you either."
Sophia looked at him with a smile that became more sarcastic.
The young believers gathered around cautiously, and she suddenly said, "Okay, I'll live here."
She stared into Cyril's eyes and said, "I'll stay with you tonight. Do you dare?"
Sophia looked haggard, but it still couldn't hide her beauty. Her beautiful black eyes flashed with an ambiguous light. Ignoring the gloomy faces of the believers, she slowly approached Cyril.
"Gryffin told me to put my face to good use, and I called him wishful thinking." Sophia chuckled, "But if it were you, I'd be happy to do it."
She knew clearly that men had almost no self-control when faced with temptation.
But Cyril calmly stepped back, avoiding her red lips, frowning slightly: "What did Gryffin do to you?"
"You've done everything." Sophia sneered, suddenly grabbed Cyril's sleeve, slowly reached in through the sleeve, and said in a long voice, "Why? You want to help me get revenge? There's no need to go through so much trouble..."
"You've known for a long time that I love you." She chuckled, casually breaking the window paper that they both knew so well, her expression charming, "I know your secret too. You don't love me, but it doesn't matter. You are a god, and you are also a man. Sex and love can be separated."
Before he finished speaking, Cyril had already pushed Sophia away, his expression unrecognizable as either happy or angry.
"Rocky, take her to rest."
Sophia slowly adjusted her collar: "I'm not leaving."
Cyril glanced at her and did not argue with her. He simply led the believers away.
Sophia was left alone in the empty hall, and her smile gradually faded.
The window was covered in snow. Counting carefully from the outside, the tower had nineteen floors. She was standing on the first floor, having never seen the scenery from above.
After a moment's silence, Sophia suddenly walked towards the fireplace.
-
As night fell, Cyril moved to a side hall because Sophia refused to leave.
The young nun Rocky led the old nun to clean the new room.
The ones who are responsible for doing the rough work here are all old nuns from the monastery. They are either born dumb or become dumb later in life in order to enter the temple.
One of the rules for everyone living in the temple is to maintain silence.
But Rocky was young and couldn't keep things in his heart. He didn't understand why the Venerable indulged Sophia, even though she had blasphemed the Venerable in public and said such filthy words!
Rocky thought so, but he only dared to ask: "Your Excellency, are you really going to let your believer Sophia sleep in the main hall?"
The main hall of the temple does not allow outsiders, and today is an exception.
Cyril leaned against the window and read a book. He glanced at the old nun who was quietly cleaning the room. "Well, I'll arrange for someone to prepare a bed for her later."
Rocky's face wrinkled into a ball, and he said subconsciously: "You used to not allow anyone to enter except the princess..."
"Rocky." Cyril glanced at Rocky calmly, "Who told you this?"
Rocky was startled, realizing he had let something slip. At his age, he shouldn't have known about something so far back in time.
Cyril stared at Rocky, and the gentleness on his face gradually disappeared.
Rocky immediately knelt on the ground, trembling and not daring to look up.
"Your Excellency, it was Sister Bailey who cleans the hall who said that."
The nun who was making the bed inside paused, then knelt down and prostrated herself on the ground.
Cyril's smile suddenly warmed up: "It seems that cutting off her tongue is not enough. Go ahead and gouge out her eyes as well."
Pale golden eyes stared at Rocky, who suppressed his fear and said, "Yes!"
He knew that if the root of the evil was not eradicated, he would be the one to die in place of the nun.
Rocky left, leaving only Cyril and the kneeling nun in the room.
Cyril looked up: "What's your name?"
The nuns here are all covered with black headscarves, some have their tongues cut off, and some are blind. They are shadows moving around the temple, with no sense of existence. They can be seen everywhere like dust and can be stepped on at any time.
The nun pointed to her throat, indicating that she could not speak.
Under the dim light, Cyril's eyes grew darker: "Raise your head."
The nun froze and did not move.
Cyril narrowed his eyes slightly, put down the book and slowly stood up.
At the same moment, the nun took off her veil, revealing an ugly face that was disfigured by the fire.
As if she knew that her appearance was unsightly, she immediately lowered her head in shame.
Cyril had already walked to her side. She was trembling with fear like Rocky, and then she knelt on the ground, kissed the upper of his shoes and begged for mercy.
At this moment, the scrutiny in Cyril's eyes disappeared. He seemed a little bored and waved his hand: "Get out."
The nun quickly wrapped her headscarf and fled.
Cyril looked at her back, her facial features, posture and figure... everything was so unfamiliar, yet it gave him a momentary illusion.
I thought she had come back, but that was obviously impossible.
Cyril stared at the book for a long time without turning the pages.
It wasn't until Rocky came back with a bloody dagger and knelt on the ground to report that he came back to his senses and a gentle smile appeared on his face again: "Good boy, well done."
Feeling the touch of the Venerable, Rocky's fear of killing disappeared, and the joy of affirmation instantly filled his mind.
"Everything for His Holiness." Rocky kissed Cyril's shoe devoutly.
"Get up and have a good rest." Cyril chuckled, his eyes flickering slightly. "Have someone guard the main hall and don't let anyone approach the top floor."
Rocky instantly became alert, thinking that the Venerable had listened to his advice and was wary of Sophia.
"yes."
He had just received the order when he suddenly heard the sound of hurried footsteps coming towards him.
"Oh no! Your Excellency! The top floor is on fire!"
Rocky widened his eyes, suddenly opened the window and looked towards the main hall.
A raging flame burned at the top of the sacred tower, and the flames shot up into the sky, almost illuminating half of the Morpheus Snow Mountain.
Cyril stood up suddenly, his light golden eyes reflected the raging fire, and his fingers clenched tightly.
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