Eli smiled bitterly, still feeling the helplessness he felt at the time. "I didn't understand any divine calling. I only knew that she was leaving me. Death would separate us forever, for a hundred years, two hundred years. One of us would be on earth, and the other would be in the abyss. I really couldn't accept it. But when I begged everyone in the church at the time, including Jesse who hadn't been expelled from the church yet, they all refused me."
Jesse, yes, back in the Dark Quarter, Eli knew some of Jesse's secrets. Phil Gray thought of that annoying guy, never expecting that young Eli had once sought his help.
“That guy Jesse tricked me into kneeling before him, saying he would take me to find the Chosen One. After he gloated over the feeling of trampling the Holy Son underfoot, he turned me away. That’s when I realized that no one in the Church of the Dead would help me. They all think it’s only natural for the Holy Maiden to return to the embrace of God. Maybe that’s true, but I just can’t accept it. I don’t really believe in death anyway,” Eli said casually, yet it was heartbreaking.
"My sister's illness was getting worse, but no one cared. The only concern was the premature passing of the church's saintess. Most people celebrated her, rejoicing that a believer had seen God sooner. Finally, I made up my mind and secretly left the church to find a Chosen One to heal my sister. But the Church of Life's headquarters was in the Western Continent, while the vast Eastern Continent was still the Church of Death. A seven-year-old child—where could I find a Chosen One?"
“I wandered for many days and finally used the money I had to buy a copy of the Life Church’s classic book, ‘The Source of Life,’ in a shop of the Commercial Church. I felt like I had grasped the last straw and prayed desperately to the God of Life, asking to be His chosen one. Since none of you will save her, I will save her myself!”
"It's ridiculous, isn't it? A person who should have devoutly believed in death was praying to become a chosen one of the gods of life. At that time, I didn't eat or drink, and knelt before the book to pray for three whole days. In the end, I became a traitor, betraying my family, betraying the god I once believed in, and even betraying my own body."
"Even as a child, I understood the preciousness of life. When the power of death left my body, a vibrant, green aura surrounded me, allowing me to find my true faith. I cherish this world so much, cherish the beauty around me, the fragrance of blooming flowers, the soft fur of cats, and my sister's sweet smile—all are beauties I can't bear to part with. I experienced the joy of life, something I had never felt in the cold, gloomy church of the dead for the past seven years."
Eli smiled, but the smile was fleeting.
"However, as a child, I did not know how shameful and deserving of death such an act of turning away from God was in the church! When I returned to the church full of joy to save my sister, she had already passed away. They did not let me see her again, and instead stared at me angrily, spitting on me and binding me, this person who had turned away from God, to the stake to wash away my sins with fire."
Phil Gray was shocked and looked at the wounds on Eli's arm with anger. Even Ernest frowned. How could they treat a seven-year-old child so cruelly?
"They started the flames on my arm, trying to completely erase the mark of the god of death. I was in excruciating pain, and the life force that had just awakened in my body barely kept me alive until my grandfather arrived. He secretly saved me and created the illusion that I was dead, telling me to take my sister's ashes and never come back."
“I was surprised that he would actually save me, but I still couldn’t accept his disregard for my sister’s life, so I left without looking back. Of course, I only learned later that my grandfather had been punished, lost his position as elder, and also disappeared without a trace. After burying my sister in her favorite valley, I embarked on a journey of wandering. I crossed thousands of miles of mountains and oceans, came to the Western Continent, and finally stopped in the area of the Church of Life, until I met you.”
Phil Gray stood up, patted him on the shoulder, and said, “No matter what you believe in or which god you are favored by, you are our partner, and that will never change.”
Ernest nodded, his reticence only allowing him to respond to the Pope's words with a resolute gaze.
Eli let out a long sigh of relief, then looked at Frank. "But I still can't understand why I'm now a follower of death again? I'm sure I'm the most devout to the god of life."
Mr. Ghost Frank remained deep in thought until he noticed everyone's gaze on him, at which point he muttered, "To be honest, which church doesn't cherish its Holy Son? How could the Church of the Dead be like this? How did two perfectly good Holy Sons end up like this?"
Phil Gray agreed, saying they should learn from the Dawn Cult; no wonder they became the first church in Welsh.
"As for how you, the Son of Death, suddenly became a chosen one of the God of Life, I've heard that there's a guy named Dwyer in the Light of Wisdom who's quite knowledgeable about the theory of believer choice. Perhaps he knows more about it, since he inherited and developed the views of my old friend. But to be honest, I've never heard of someone becoming a chosen one of two gods and then changing back. Do you think those two gods are so free that they'd play house with you?"
Frank stood up, circled the table twice, scratched his head, looking utterly bewildered. As a believer in the god of wisdom, he felt the shallowness of his knowledge.
Kind-hearted Phil Gray decided to continue hiding his identity as one of the Three Chosen for the time being, lest Mr. Ghost pull his hair out of his head, since it was unknown whether Ghost could grow hair again.
“Then let’s make a trip to the Light of Wisdom sometime later. I’m sure Mr. Frank misses it very much,” Phil Gray suggested.
"Hmm, of course, but mainly for this gentleman." Frank nodded in satisfaction, then fell into thought again.
Phil Gray looked out the window. The sun had already set, and the red glow of the sunset shone through the golden glass frame, creating a scene with an oil painting-like beauty.
Just then, a knock sounded at the door, and a man dressed in a black and white butler's uniform and tall boots walked in. He was around forty years old and had a thick head of silver hair that was soft and shiny.
He bowed slightly and said respectfully:
“Your Highness, I am your butler Gerald Berkeley. The banquet is about to begin. I will help you change into your formal attire.”
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