"Wonderful?" Elder Sid looked puzzled.
The archbishop slowly pulled several letters from his pocket. "A letter just sent by the Lemo Empire, demanding that we give Princess Rebecca an explanation."
"Um?"
"Don't you know? This morning, news circulated in various circles that Princess Rebecca of the Lemo Empire was bewitched by one of my bishops, not only bearing him an illegitimate child but also being murdered by him. And just now, unsurprisingly, the Lemo Empire sent these letters, demanding an explanation from our church." The archbishop finished speaking and chuckled, "Although our church believes in death, we don't arbitrarily deprive others of their right to live, right?"
A layer of cold sweat appeared on Marshall's forehead. He pursed his lips, feeling both uneasy and angry. Although he hadn't killed Rebecca, the fact that his affair with Rebecca had been exposed would also affect his prestige among the believers.
The believers present today certainly knew who the protagonist of the message was, and they cast strange glances at Marshall.
Elder Sid frowned, his gaze lingering on Marshall and Rodney. Judging from the reactions of the believers, he naturally guessed who the so-called bishop was. However, the selection of the Pope was the priority, and nothing could hinder this selection.
Moreover, this was clearly orchestrated because of the Pope's selection process, and he did not want to interfere, even tacitly approving it, because only in this way could a truly capable and resourceful successor be chosen.
"Alright, we'll deal with this matter after today's selection process is over. Time's up, today's selection process will begin now!"
As the elder's voice faded, Marshall breathed a sigh of relief and secretly resolved to get a high score. He glanced at the suspects out of the corner of his eye before stepping onto the altar.
The order of appearance is the same as yesterday.
This time, he took out a harmonica from his spatial storage. The harmonica was made of an unknown black material, covered with dense patterns that gave it a twisted and absurd feel. But most importantly, this harmonica exuded a powerful aura of deathly energy, causing people to gasp in shock.
"This is a sacred object!"
Some believers recognized him.
That's right, Marshall isn't going to use his own skills to summon the undead today; he's using his family's collection, a death relic left by one of his ancestors.
"He actually has a sacred object, I never expected that," Eli exclaimed in surprise.
"His family is considered one of the more established families in the Church of the Dead, with a history of nearly a thousand years. It's not an exaggeration to say that they have left behind a few sacred artifacts." Yi Lai Zhe was quite familiar with the Wollaston family.
Phil Gray, meanwhile, kept a close eye on Marshall's movements, watching to see what kind of undead he could summon.
Marshall put the harmonica to his lips and began to play softly, but it was clear that the bishop had no musical talent, causing some believers to cover their ears.
Soon, black mist enveloped the altar, and a ghostly woman floating in the air appeared before everyone.
Her eyes were filled with resentment, and her face seemed to be filled with sorrow. Her body was graceful, and she floated gently to Marshall's side: "My summoner, what brings you to summon the Lady of the Harp? The darkness of the abyss keeps me awake all night. Please do not let me leave too soon."
Her voice was melodious and pleasant to listen to; it sounded like she was singing.
However, no one can ignore her godlike strength; she is a ghost of godlike power.
Marshall remained unfazed: "There's nothing for you to do. We're having a contest to summon the undead. You can rest behind me, but the price will remain the same."
The lady with the zither smiled and covered her mouth: "As you wish."
Marshall stepped down from the altar, returned to the seat prepared for him, and looked at the other children of the Holy Trinity with a defiant expression.
If someone wants to ruin his reputation, then he will definitely show that person what it's like to ascend to the papacy!
"Hmm, a ghost descended from the divine, not bad. It seems you all need to get serious today." The archbishop clapped his hands and laughed. "Next, please welcome Jasmine!"
Phil Gray had just noticed the saintess. They had already suspected that Rodney must have also harmed her, and seeing her with slightly red eyes and a haggard appearance this morning only confirmed their suspicions.
But what exactly happened?
Jaslin walked absentmindedly to the altar. She raised her hand, her fingertips just beginning to gather divine power, before it drooped down in dejection. Then, gritting her teeth, she looked at the archbishop and said, "I forfeit this round of summoning."
"What?"
The archbishop hadn't expected her to say that. "Why give up?"
"It's nothing. I have nothing left to summon. I already summoned my mother yesterday, and my father isn't at the level of a god yet, so even if I summoned him, it wouldn't make a difference. That's all." She explained with a relieved look, but everyone present could tell that she was hiding something.
“Have you thought this through? Giving up this summons could very well mean giving up the papacy…” the archbishop said, drawing out his words as he looked at her.
Jaslin was startled, but then calmed down and said, "That's not necessarily true. A high score in this round doesn't necessarily mean he can become the Pope. Maybe the Abyss is calling him!"
Listening to her words uttered through gritted teeth, Phil Gray seemed thoughtful. "Do you think someone might have threatened this saint?"
"What threat could make her give up this round of summoning?" Yi Lai Zhe asked.
"Her children and husband?" Eli guessed in a low voice.
Phil Gray nodded.
Although these believers in death are not afraid of death, there are many ways to imprison and torment a person's soul, which is more terrifying than death.
Those present were all chosen by God, and their hushed discussions were easily heard. So Jaslin glanced at them, and the archbishop took the opportunity to ask, "Did you hear their speculations? I don't believe your reasoning either."
Jaslin shook her head. "There's nothing like what they're saying. I voluntarily give up this round of summoning. That's it."
After she finished speaking, she stepped down from the altar and returned to her seat, leaving the believers with expressions of confusion and regret.
"Alright, let's welcome the next candidate."
Eli exclaimed, "Oh dear, it's my turn. I'm going to embarrass myself on stage again."
He strolled leisurely onto the altar, smiled and waved to the believers, as if an idol were meeting his fans, and even bowed politely.
"Everyone, I'm sure you've missed my little darlings a lot, right?"
He said he would repeat the same procedure as yesterday, only this time the offerings on the altar were replaced with a bunch of ordinary fruits and vegetables, as if he were just going through the motions.
Those watching sighed, having given up hope of the undead he had summoned.
"Guests from the abyss, please enjoy the delicious food I have prepared for you," Eli said lazily, lacking even the sincerity he had shown yesterday.
There was nothing he could do; since he was just summoning those weak, undead anyway, he simply gave up.
As his words fell, five or six mummies wrapped in white bandages appeared on the altar, hopping and skipping as they began to enjoy the fruits.
After sweeping everything away, they hopped and skipped behind Eli, then began to dance joyfully around him.
The comical scene made many people burst into laughter. Eli helplessly led them back to their seats, while the mummies diligently poured him tea and water, and massaged his legs and back. However, their hands and feet were a bit clumsy, and they either spilled water or bumped into the table.
"Alright, let's move on to the next candidate." The archbishop couldn't help but chuckle.
Only Elder Sid was somewhat stunned. He recalled a girl surrounded by many small skeletons many years ago, as if the scene today overlapped with it.
But she had already gone to the abyss because of the god's summons. What exactly happened to these twin holy children? And what about that old man who left without saying goodbye back then? Was there something he was hiding from them?
Rodney ascended the altar, his face expressionless, making it impossible to guess his thoughts. Phil Gray had expected him to use his uncontrollable skill as he had yesterday, but he did not. Instead, he took out a short knife from his spatial storage.
The dagger was very sharp, gleaming coldly. He quickly plunged it into his left thigh and stabbed several more times.
Many believers were startled by his actions. Although they believed in death, they did not have a penchant for self-harm. After all, everyone is afraid of pain, except for those who worship disease.
No one could understand his actions, and could only continue to focus their curious gazes on him.
Blood flowed down his thighs and onto the altar. Rodney uttered strange rhythms, and the blood automatically coalesced into the shape of a skull with enormous fangs, which looked quite terrifying.
"I summon..."
Rodney uttered a few strange syllables, and the space above the altar was instantly torn apart, revealing a black undead that looked like charcoal.
Its entire body was pitch black, but its eyes looked like congealed blood, floating motionless in the air.
What kind of undead are these? Even the well-informed archbishop couldn't help but be somewhat surprised.
"A god-level undead of an unknown race, can you control it?" Elder Sid stood up and asked Rodney.
The undead that clung to the gates of the abyss yesterday had left a deep impression on them.
“Yes.” Rodney smiled, a red vein appearing in his pupils. He snapped his fingers at the undead: “My summoned creature, please stay by my side.”
The undead instantly moved and stood behind him, drawing gasps of amazement from the crowd of believers. Another candidate capable of manipulating a god-level undead, truly impressive!
As Marshall watched Rodney limp down from the altar, his gaze darkened. He had to pay a considerable price to summon the Lady of the Harp with the sacred artifact. Could Rodney really control that terrifying undead just by shedding a little blood?
Only Phil Gray, with a furrowed brow, was present. If he hadn't misheard, the strange rhythm Rodney used during his summoning was very similar to the rhythm he heard when the natives offered sacrifices to Eris on Earth. He wondered if it was a prayer offered to another god of the Abyss.
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