Chapter 47
If you choose to become the next generation of demons.
Veris would be unaffected; his infinite lifespan allowed him to completely devour his friend's godhood, even altering His divine title and reshaping His godhood to truly become a god himself.
The divinity of the god of love was completely suppressed, and Veris could hardly mobilize the power of the god of love; he could only mobilize the divine power of the demon.
The Prison of Fallen Gods is the result of the power of demons.
The suppression of divinity resulted in the loss of certain emotions for three hundred years.
Sylvain, who has no memory, may be a good person, but he was born from hell, bears all the evil in the world, and possesses the common trait of all gods—selfishness.
He bet that Veris wouldn't take his place, and that they would meet again someday.
As the six o'clock bells rang throughout the entire Papacy, the Holy Son stood before the full-length mirror, gazing at the face of his new body.
His slender fingers caressed the identical features of the face, without a single flaw, every part so perfectly proportioned, the kind of face he loved most and couldn't look away from.
Those eerie green eyes were exactly the same as those of the body.
A slow smile appeared on His face as He murmured, "My dearest friend, my dearest friend...we are finally going to meet."
That accent sounds very strange nowadays; it doesn't sound like the language that's popular today at all.
During the era of the Seven Gods, the common language of the continent of Icarus had changed in the nearly three hundred years since the establishment of the Kingdom of Lortheran.
He remains in the past.
Suddenly, his face contorted, he raised his hand to clutch his chest, and his breathing became heavier.
His eyes were cold, and he uttered a single sentence: "Fool, behave yourself."
The restlessness deep within his soul grew even more intense. Sylvain chuckled, forcibly swallowing the metallic taste rising in his throat. He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, his soul had become more docile.
This interruption meant the sun had already risen outside, and human legs were starting to feel numb after standing for so long. Sylvain felt a little disgusted with his body, even though it was already among the best of the best among humans.
But that was still far from enough for his dearest friend.
As certain memories flashed through his mind, Sylvain slowly revealed a faint smile. The coldness in his eyes vanished in an instant, and his face returned to a docile expression, no different from that of the Holy Son facing Veris.
They are one, without any flaws.
Its eerie green eyes darted around, peering through the layers of walls toward Veris's room.
Veris's room was surrounded by restrictions, with various magic arrays hidden within the space. Unauthorized intruders would not be killed instantly, but would be rendered unable to move immediately.
He didn't think anyone could assassinate him now, but he wasn't arrogant either; even in his own backyard, he still had to be cautious.
Veris was somewhat annoyed by Lortheran's appearance last night. After becoming an undead, Lortheran wandered around the High Church. In places without death energy, his soul would become weaker and weaker. For many years, Lortheran had been sleeping most of the time.
Veris didn't understand why his old friend would become a ghost. He thought the man still longed for the mortal world, and after some hesitation, he agreed to Lortheran's request.
But Lortheran, who in a sense has achieved immortality, is always sleeping.
Sometimes Veris gets so bored at the High Vatican that he'll shake Lortheran awake to chat with him, but Lortheran completely ignores him and can fall asleep sitting up.
He was too lazy to go to the Demon King's Forest to strengthen himself.
They are truly just barely clinging to life.
He didn't think he was that stupid, but after all these years, he still couldn't figure out what Lortheran was trying to do.
Will he watch the kingdom he built with his own hands prosper? Yet Lor'theran never even left the High Papacy.
Even when the kingdom's legacy was in crisis, this guy was forcibly woken up by Veris, but he only groaned a few times, looking like he didn't want to care.
They often sleep for decades at a time.
Veris frowned. He couldn't enter his bedroom without permission, but after sensing the presence of Lortheran, he hesitated for a moment before letting the undead in.
Who knew that Lortheran would start by asking those questions?
A handsome face was reflected in the mirror. His eyebrows and eyes were deep, but his slightly thick lips softened his coldness and indifference. His eyes were somewhat round, and his true appearance was more flamboyant and aggressive than his usual disguise.
He couldn't understand Lortheran, and when he asked, he was all very mysterious.
Adding to the recent resurgence of the Seven Gods, Veris pursed his lips, wondering if Lortheran was also connected to those guys.
Thinking of this, his expression turned somewhat unpleasant. He turned around and walked to the display shelf, tapped a space with his fingertip, and the power that isolated the space dissipated, revealing a radiant key in his hand.
He lowered his head and stared intently at the key, took a slight breath, and began to harass a certain undead hiding in the High Church.
This time, the undead did not remain asleep and quickly appeared behind him.
His figure was blurry, but he soon noticed the key in Veris's hand.
Veris turned to look at Lortheran: "This is the artifact Key of Miganoran. It ignores all conditions. Once used, it can reverse time, return to the past, and change fate."
Lortheran glanced at the key, which was clearly not simple. The divine power emanating from it had a strong suppressive effect on the undead, but he was already weak, so this suppression was nothing to him.
He chuckled, his voice slightly distorted: "You actually managed to resist using it."
Veris pursed his lips and frowned: "Why should I use it?"
The undead figure swayed and drifted, sometimes darting to Veris's side, sometimes to a more distant place, and his voice was also erratic: "If we go back to the past, Sylvain will come back, won't he?"
“He’s right here beside me.” Veris’s eyes turned cold. He now understood why this man had been floating around; it seemed he was afraid of getting beaten up.
Lortheran stopped at a distance and chuckled, "I thought you preferred the old one."
Veris: "What do you mean by liking or disliking him? He's Sylvain."
The spirit mumbled a few perfunctory "uh-huhs" before saying it was tired and needed to go to sleep.
The next second, he was grabbed by a hand. Veris looked at him and laughed it off, feeling increasingly uneasy: "You're definitely hiding something from me."
Lortheran looked around and then lowered his voice, "How did you know?"
Veris was skeptical; did Lortheran really confess as soon as he was asked?
Then Lortheran said, "Actually, I have a secret, and that is, I saw Sylvain secretly kiss your statue—"
"roll."
In the long corridor filled with restrictions, the dead avoided the sunlight and sighed: "He should have said it, but Veris doesn't like telling the truth."
He looked at the end of the corridor, where a figure was walking towards him. Veris had cast a spell on him, making him invisible to most people, including Sylvain.
So he drifted past nonchalantly, and as he passed the tall figure, he was caught off guard when he heard the man's cold voice: "How come you're still alive?"
Lortheran turned his head sharply and met a pair of cold green eyes.
An immense pressure surged forth like a tidal wave. Fearing that Sylvain might accidentally destroy his weakened soul, Lorraine quickly raised his hands, smiling obsequiously, "Hey, hey, don't get excited, aren't we good companions, Sylvain—"
"Who are your good companions?" Sylvain's voice became even more dangerous.
His eyes held intense hostility as he looked at the undead.
Lortheran was about to kneel before him: "I really didn't mean anything by it, he doesn't even like me, please let me go!"
Sylvain's gaze swept over him inch by inch as if it were a physical presence. Just when Lortheran felt like he was about to be reborn today, he heard Sylvain say in a cold voice, "He uses my power to support you."
Undead: "?"
He was about to cry: "I don't know, oh no, I brought this on myself. He said he found a way to keep me alive, but I don't know anything about it."
Lortheran hugged herself tightly: "Don't hit me, or I'll tell him you're back, and neither of us will have a good time."
Sylvain's mind flashed back to those vivid memories: the young man in the scene doting on the teenage version of Reincarnation, even letting the brat into bed when he said he couldn't sleep. Just thinking about it made him burn with jealousy.
Why? Why? These were originally his!
He believed he held a high position in Veris, but he had been dead for nearly three hundred years.
And that reincarnation stayed with Veris for so many years.
Now there's also Lortheran, who has truly lived with Veris for three hundred years. Compared to him, both his and the reincarnated's positions are in jeopardy.
His hands, hanging by his sides, curled up and clenched tightly. His eyes seemed to want to spit out a knife and tear Lortheran to pieces, but he was so close to Veris.
He forced a cold smile and turned to walk straight toward the bedroom.
Lortheran breathed a sigh of relief upon realizing he had escaped, and quickly floated away.
What exactly did Veris and Sylvain talk about last night? How did his memories come back? No, the soul in that body must be the same Sylvain from before!
Forget it, he didn't want to get caught in the middle and get beaten up by both of them.
Veris already suspects him, but if he tells the truth, he'll be more likely to get beaten up, right?
The undead shrank its neck and floated close to the wall. The Holy Light and spiritual sounds within the High Church were too much for it to bear, and it didn't want to be purified by accident.
He went to Granwa's attic.
The old man woke up early and hunched over the table, writing furiously. He held the pen that Felix had modified in his hand, and the paper on the table was also high-quality paper that the master blacksmith had improved and manufactured many times. With a few quick strokes, another line of words appeared on the page.
Lortheran squatted on the table watching him write. After a while, he suddenly slapped Granvar on the forehead. The undead attack did no damage. Granvar only felt a chill on his forehead. He touched his head and muttered, "Was there a window that wasn't closed properly? Why does it feel like there's a cold draft?"
The spirit cried out in anguish, "Why! Why did you, you wretched old man, write him to die? My young master Piran was kept in the dark!"
Griva continued to work with his head down, an unnatural flush appearing on his face, and the story he wrote became increasingly bleak.
The dead are weeping, the author is excited.
"Once this is finished, those guys will definitely be crying their eyes out," Granvar said, looking at his masterpiece with self-satisfaction.
Lortheran wailed beside him, "You heartless bastard, I'm never reading such a tragic story again!"
Since Granvard and Veris's collaborative work, "From the Rebellion of Mercury," became popular in the capital, it immediately won the favor of countless young people. The older generation simply dared not read such a bizarre story, and the young people clamored for the authors to write a second part.
Granva returned to the capital, and after much agonizing reflection, resolved to write a happy and fulfilling story this time.
However, halfway through his writing, he started to let his imagination run wild again, with misunderstandings and coincidences piling up one after another. By the time he realized it, the story seemed to have ended in tragedy once more.
Granva consoled himself: "At least the male and female leads died this time."
This time, he changed his name and secretly took his masterpiece to the market and sold it in a bookstore.
After years of research, Granvar's writing touched people's hearts, and this pseudonym quickly became a hit in the capital. Young people would talk about the stories he wrote when they walked down the street.
The pseudonym became a hit, and Granva felt an unprecedented sense of satisfaction, completely different from his work writing poetry and going to the Papacy.
After years of perseverance, they have finally come into the public eye.
He also shared his masterpiece with his colleagues. Garcia was open to all sorts of things and urged Granva to write faster.
Clark was speechless after reading it, feeling that it challenged his moral bottom line as a former evil sorcerer.
Fikry yelled "Vulgar!" and ran away.
Several other colleagues, being respectable people, racked their brains to praise Granvar.
Uther looked at the guard who had been secretly in love with the protagonist of his novel for many years but dared not confess, and said to Granva that it was exactly like him. Granva was scared half to death and swore that he had never borrowed from anyone. Uther left dejectedly, and before leaving, he glanced in the direction of the Pope's statue.
Hilda, who had dealt with the royal family for many years, told him mysteriously that the royal family's secrets were far more interesting than these.
Granva was thrilled to have acquired a bunch of material again, and he was eager to get started, feeling full of energy.
He stopped working and stopped fulfilling his duty of listening to the wishes of believers. Instead, he spent two hours every day praying, carrying a pen and paper, and writing frantically with his back to the believers.
Garcia highly praised Granvar's self-awareness and immediately began promoting Granvar's new work among the nobility.
Writing about just one Granvard is simply not enough.
His Highness the Prince pondered this, and one day he encountered the little prince sneaking around to read books. The uncle and nephew hit it off immediately, and the little prince also embarked on this path of no return.
The novel sold very well in the market, business opportunities emerged, and gradually more and more authors appeared, but their writing was far inferior to Granvar's.
The Little Prince learned to read from a young age and read quite a few books. His writing was fairly fluent, but his stories weren't fresh enough, putting him on par with mediocre authors.
However, the Little Prince was talented and made rapid progress. During the period when Granvard did not produce any new works, his pen name gradually gained fame.
Young people have much more energy than Granva, and soon his pen name also accumulated a group of followers.
But Griva's novels are irreplaceable in the market, and some people are determined to read only what Griva writes.
For example, Lortheran.
Lortheran had a long-cherished wish, and for the sake of this wish, he stubbornly remained on earth for over two hundred years.
He felt somewhat guilty.
Before Veris was taken to Skyrim Palace, Sylvain had already decided to confess his feelings. He didn't know what he felt for Veris, but Lortheran insisted that he liked Veris.
But at the last minute, Lortheran chickened out, because he felt that Veris didn't seem to like Sylvain as much.
Perhaps the relationship is even better than that of best friends, but it doesn't quite reach the level of lovers.
And just like that, Veris left.
What happened afterward was irreversible; that person left for almost a year.
Lortheran was still diligently expanding his territory when one day, the sky changed dramatically, and golden light scattered. He stood on the city wall, his mouth agape as he watched the scene unfold.
The elven companions were also shocked: "This is... the fall of a god."
Later, Veris returned, radiating murderous intent. His white hair had turned completely black, and he was missing an eye. Sylvain said he was going to find him but didn't come back. However, Veris still had a gentle smile on his face and said he wanted to establish a completely new religion.
It replaced the chaotic and disorderly beliefs of the past, led by the Celestial God Cult.
Establishing a religion during wartime is extremely advantageous.
The new religion was named after him, the Orlando Church, and worshipped Eve, the goddess of love. Its doctrines were love and justice.
Veris Orlando, that's his name.
Lortheran harbored feelings for Sylvain's unspoken love, mentioning it intermittently over the years, but looking at Veris's somber expression, he ultimately fell silent.
The person is already dead; what's the point of knowing now?
It will only make Veris more heartbroken.
From hero to king, Lortheran felt that his biggest regret in life was that night he chickened out and stopped Sylvain from going to find Veris.
One mistake led to another, causing the two to miss each other completely.
In his old age, he was still unwilling to accept it and asked Veris if it was possible for Sylvain to be reincarnated.
Veris paused, turned to look out the window, pondered for a long time, and gradually became determined.
“You reminded me, Lortheran.”
He stood up. Decades had passed, but his face was still handsome. However, his tone carried a new kind of determination that made Lortheran tremble: "Even if it's not possible, I will create that day."
This wait lasted for more than two hundred years.
Lortheran, who was sleeping in the High Papacy, had become accustomed to Veris's frequent absences and even went to see him to ask when he planned to return this time.
His Holiness the Pope, dressed in a robe indistinguishable from that of an ordinary person, with a handsome and gentle face, smiled and said, "I have found a new method for continuing civilization, and I would like to try it out."
"What is that?"
Veris shook the flute in his hand, his tone light: "A bard."
Lortheran didn't quite understand the connection between bards and the continuation of civilization, but he didn't ask further, simply assuming that his old friend had found a new way to pass the time.
At least he could pass the time by sleeping, but Veris had actually spent so many years counting the days.
That sleep lasted another thirty years.
Veris has not returned for nearly ten years. The Papacy has encountered various troubles, large and small, which have been resolved by the archbishops working together. Even without the Pope's instructions, the Papacy continues to operate normally.
It was a peaceful spring, with the lingering effects of winter still present, and frost covering the grass and trees.
His Holiness the Pope arrived in the capital without a sound and entered the Papacy.
Beside him was a calm-looking young man.
Lortheran awoke from his slumber, stood in the shadows, and stared in disbelief at the boy.
Veris... he really did it.
He didn't know what method Veris used to obtain Sylvain's reincarnation.
But that person was indeed Sylvain; his facial features, tone of voice, and even his reaction to the event were exactly the same as Sylvain's.
Although Veris turned him into an undead and kept him alive all these years, their relationship remained strained.
When Sylvain reappeared, those rigid things began to soften, perhaps Veris was remembering the days many years ago when they traveled together on the continent of Icarus.
He also became more friendly towards Lortheran.
Of course, the main reason was that he told Lortheran not to sleep so much, to be careful of Sylvain, and to notify him if he was bullied in the High Papacy.
It was actually just temporary guardianship, but what shocked Lortheran even more was not that.
"You're not staying at the Papacy?" Sylvain has already been designated as his successor, yet Veris isn't returning to the Papacy.
Veris said hesitantly, "I still have things to take care of."
Lortheran gasped and tentatively asked, "Is Sylvain different from what you imagined?"
Veris touched his nose awkwardly and said, "It's not like that. The problem lies with me. Don't ask anymore."
"He calls you father, so you adopted him."
“We need to have an external identity,” Veris explained.
Lortheran narrowed his eyes, sensing that something was amiss. Veris's gaze towards Sylvain held a strong sense of restraint. Logically, Veris should have been eager to present the best things to Sylvain, so why was he being so evasive?
Unfortunately, he could only stay in the Papacy, and no matter how much he thought about it, he still couldn't figure it out.
These two have finally reunited; they can't afford any more mishaps.
Lortheran was deeply worried about this.
Until one day, he wandered to the observatory and listened to the astrologer and Sylvain's report.
The Star of Bravery shines brightly, a new hero emerges, and the orbits of Destiny and the Pope make extensive contact.
Lortheran's soul trembled, and he crouched furtively nearby to eavesdrop, watching Sylvain's expression grow increasingly grim.
Oh no! Veris abandoned Sylvain at the High Vatican for two years without a word, could it be all for this newly appeared hero?!
To be fair, Lortheran didn't believe in such things.
But the astrologer's words made him think of more.
And with each time Sylvain returned from visiting Veris, his face was almost always grim, Lortheran's heart grew heavier.
Could something really have gone wrong?
While loitering around the archbishop, Lortheran gleaned a lot of information, such as Veris personally quelling the Mercury rebellion, but he also heard that the hero had just been captured and imprisoned by the rebels.
For example, Veris intended to take on a new student and even gifted him a student certificate from the Royal Capital Academy, exempting him from the entrance exam. It is said that the person was a member of the Hero Squad.
For example, Veris personally rescued an elf who had been stranded, and even traveled a long way to the elven forest to capture the culprit and clear the way for the elves. By the way, that elf will also be a member of the hero's team in the future.
For example, Veris "passes by" a small town and rescues the trapped hero team.
Veris's attention to the hero is a bit too much!
Lortheran was heartbroken; would his long-cherished wish never be fulfilled?
So last night's probing led to Lortheran's direct attack, but Veris responded with a threat. He didn't quite understand what Veris meant. Did Veris still need an answer to that question from back then?
Then this morning I was kicked out of the house.
However, there is some good news: Sylvain has regained his memory. Although he doesn't know what happened, Lortheran sees hope.
This good news seemed to turn into bad news after he realized that he had once been a hero.
The undead lurked in the corner, feeling very uneasy. Would Sylvain, out of hatred for him, chop him up?
And what kind of bewitching potion did that hero give Veris? He should have known to become stronger; when Sylvain fought the hero, he would have been the first to grab that guy and not let him run away.
Veris was unaware of Lortheran's inner thoughts.
I never thought it would be like that... for the reason.
The artifact has only appeared, but the Twin Gods have not yet been captured. He plans to kill the Twin Gods before Arnold and the others arrive at the High Papacy.
After the twin gods, there are only Poseidon, the god of the sea, and Yannis, the god of the sky.
Ambrose is trapped in the Land of Fallen Gods, and Sylvain's godhood is stored in the Tower of Hell. These two places cannot be broken even by using divine power.
"Knock knock," came the knocking on the door.
Veris snapped out of his daze, placed the artifact in the display shelf, and turned to open the door.
Sylvain stood outside the door. The young man looked down at him and said softly, "Want to go have breakfast, Veris?"
The person in front of him didn't speak, but stared at him. Sylvain looked up, about to look back, when his wrist was suddenly grabbed and he was pulled into the room.
The door closed, and Veris squinted as he leaned forward, practically pinning him against the door.
"It's the awakening of divinity..."
"Or have you really come back?"
Sylvain's pupils trembled slightly, and his soul couldn't help but shudder at his hushed words.
It was no use. His disguise was completely ineffective. Veris recognized him the moment they met!
The intense resistance deep within his soul did not cause the slightest fluctuation in Sylvain's expression. His breathing was a little rapid. The two of them were too close. He needed to lean forward slightly to touch Veris's forehead, and their body temperature would blend and their breaths would intertwine.
He was excitedly about to tell Veris that it was He who had returned, not that fool reincarnated.
However, the intense agitation of his soul finally came to a conclusion. In his extreme excitement, He was caught off guard, and his eerie green eyes flickered.
The Holy Son twitched the corner of his mouth and said in a low voice, "It's me."
He was forcibly suppressed, his eyes widening in disbelief deep within his soul and consciousness.
Shameless reincarnation! How dare you impersonate him!
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Author's note: Big brother, don't talk about second brother [shrug]
Lortheran is just a die-hard fan of the pairing; he's already mentally projecting Arnold into the image of a mistress who's involved in his product's debacle.
He also loves reading melodramatic novels and is a die-hard fan of Granvars.
[The update time needs to be rescheduled; we haven't decided yet whether it will be midnight or evening. The new character card is expected to be available within a week. [hugs]]
The Mysterious History of the Seven Secrets
Yannis selected talented and handsome young men from the mortal realm to serve him in the Sky Palace.
Veris then came to be noticed.
Meanwhile, Veris discovers that these high and mighty gods are the very ones who have caused the continent's disasters for years, so he devises a plan and leaves without saying goodbye to enter the Sky Palace.
When Veris first met Yannis, he gouged out Yannis's eyes. He didn't fare well either, and was seriously injured, fleeing back to the mainland to recover.
Yannis was furious and vowed to bring Veris back.
The next day, Sylvain challenged them to a match.
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