Chapter 1318 - The Pope?

“We found this while investigating the camp.” Verrol produced a large black book and handed it to Hao Ren as he noticed his audience’s surprise and bafflement. “It was the key to solving the mystery behind the troops.”

Hao Ren took the thick dilapidated book from him. “This is…”

“It’s an old log book. It was once a sacred item, belonging to some powerful religious leader or friar. I think it’s a prayer book. The Scripture of Origins written inside protected the book from the ravages of time in the Nightmare Realm. The owner of the book must have understood the power of these scriptures and decided to use the book to record highly important information… Don’t bother. Most of the scripture inside is already unrecognizable… You can maybe make out a third of what’s written inside towards the end of the book.”

Hao Ren carefully flipped through the prayer book until he found something readable.

The contents of the book after that were mostly nonsensical symbols and abstract scribblings.

“He was probably;y the last one standing,” Verrol said slowly. “His diary is very precious intel to us, allowing us to figure out what happened after the Warden’s Army left this place. Lockmarton’s power will continue to corrupt lives in the Nightmare Realm, be it human, god or spirit. As long as they lose the support of sacred replicas, they will slowly become a part of the Nightmare.”

Hao Ren returned the precious diary to Verrol. “They look like they have not completely transformed yet.”

“Nevertheless, they have lost human reason.” The old bishop sighed. “Their instinct tells them to kill the corrupted magical beings, and it may look like they are still fighting against Lockmarton’s power, but it is beyond them to communicate or even think. We have tried many times to communicate with them in various ways but to no avail. The only outcome we have so far is that… they are not attacking us anymore.”

Lord of the Mountains lowered his head in thought.

“We can think about that later.” Hao Ren still remembered his mission. The Armageddon Army’s presence was unexpected, but first, they must deal with the cause of all this—Lockmarton. “I’m curious about why you moved the entire Fidelinopolis here. Why did you do it? And what happened at Fidelinopolis? The Pope…”

“We have many questions as well.” Verrol looked at Hao Ren and the rocky giants behind him. “I think we need to have a more thorough discussion together. Let’s return to Fidelinopolis. The Pope will tell you all about it.”

“The Pope?!” Hao Ren was shocked. “You mean Pope Auguste VII? Isn’t he…”

“Remember this — the people of the Sanctum will never give in, not even to Lockmarton.” The old bishop said plainly. “I know you are confused. Come to Fidelinopolis with me, and all your questions will be answered.”

Despite being trapped in Lockmarton’s territory, the Nightmare Realm, Fidelinopolis still stood proudly against all odds. The charred city walls and burnt towers told the story of countless horrible encounters with the enemy and the unyielding spirits of its inhabitants. Upon entering the city, they were greeted with badly damaged buildings and barely recognizable walkways. Many of the towering cathedrals and spires were already near collapse, their existence purely supported by magic. A thin veil of light flowed between the cracks in the bricks and metal structures, keeping them together.

Many workers busied themselves at the buildings, doing their best to fix structures that were less heavily damaged and dismantling buildings which were entirely dependent on magic to stand. In the rubble of dismantled buildings, iron gargoyles with magic symbols etched all over their skin did their thing—salvaging useless material from the rubble.

The city looked like it had taken a heavy blow, but everything seemed to be in order. Hao Ren began to realize that the transportation of Fidelinopolis to this place was all part of the plan!

The only person who had the power to do this was the master of the city—Pope Auguste VII.

If that was the case, then who was the guy out there in the real world, corrupted by the Worldbreaker and stopping the people?!

Hao Ren kept these questions to himself as he walked the streets of Fidelinopolis, following Bishop Verrol through the outer ring of the city where the normal people lived, and then along the sacred paths to the heart of the city—a circular neighborhood called God’s Side Precinct.

This was once the center of the Church of the Goddess. All the most important churches and privy council archives were found in this tiny circular area. The largest building was the Basilica Icon — the mortal symbols of all 21 Wardens were also here. However, the damage sustained by God’s Side Precinct was far worse than the two circular zones surrounding it. Only less than a fifth of its buildings were still standing. Only an empty field was left where the Basilica Icon once was—the palace must have been left behind in the real world.

Calaxus watched the city where he had spent almost his entire life in quiet contemplation. He had never imagined that the invincible Holy City would be washed in flames. In just a few months’ time, Asurmen was dying, the Sanctum had fallen, and the Holy City itself was attacked. These glorious cities had now been reduced to such a sorry state. He remembered how magnificent the city looked like when he left the place, but now…

This was the surviving remnant of the Holy City, tucked away in the Nightmare Realm.

Since the Basilica Icon was left in the real world, the temporary headquarters for the city was now in a large church in God’s Side Precinct—probably the only building untouched by destruction in this side of the city. In this massive church, bathed in a gentle glow of holy light, Hao Ren saw the Pope that Verrol spoke of.

It was an old man, sitting in a chair, with no shoes on his feet. He wore a weathered shirt of an indescribable color and held a simple walking stick made of curved wood. The old man looked so impossibly emaciated. He sat there on the chair like a mulish thorn with a head of disheveled white hair.