Chapter 41: The Reformer
The moment the voice rang out, Sylvia's pupils abruptly contracted.
Who was that?
They found me? What did that mean?
These thoughts flashed through her mind in an instant. Without hesitation, she grabbed the utterly confused Lakdevo, who was squatting on her shoulder, and prepared to cross the boundary between reality and illusion, stepping into the River of the Dead shrouded in gray mist.
In the next second, the scenery around her changed rapidly—
But it wasn't gray fog or pitch-black river water!
What appeared before her eyes was light, an endless light.
Unlike the pure white radiance of the Lord of Radiance, the light here glowed with a fluorescent green hue.
This wasn't the River of the Dead!
And Lakdevo wasn’t here either!
Sylvia instantly scanned her surroundings, only to be startled by the realization that her body was no longer that female puppet. Instead, it had become a vaguely humanoid figure made up of countless starlights.
This scene felt oddly familiar!
Just then, a voice suddenly rang out behind her:
"Hello, um... esteemed lady."
Sylvia abruptly turned her "head," and what entered her view was the figure of a tall and upright man.
His medium-length brown hair had a natural wave, and his brown eyes held a trace of a smile.
As her gaze lowered, she was greeted by a large mass of...
Well, holy light—green holy light.
It wasn't the sacred radiance of the Lord of Radiance, but more like the concealing kind used in her homeland.
Seeing this, Sylvia, who had been somewhat tense, suddenly felt an inexplicable urge to laugh.
"Allow me to introduce myself—Buolanke Latos."
"A Reformer from the Church of Industry and Machinery."
Leisurely standing behind her, the man in his early thirties wore a gentle smile.
Hearing this self-introduction, Sylvia was secretly startled.
Though she had long suspected it, hearing it confirmed from his own mouth made her heart sink once more.
"Sylvia."
The puppet girl of starlight replied in a calm tone, while cautiously observing him.
But unfortunately, she found nothing.
"I know."
Buolanke nodded, letting that warm, gentle smile return to his face:
"But I must say, your answer surprised me a little."
"Hmm?"
Sylvia's "gaze" sharpened.
Then, the Reformer continued speaking:
"I thought you would introduce yourself with the name 'Silquaya.'"
With that, he smiled once more.
Only now, Sylvia could no longer smile.
Damn it, the box!
As her heart sank completely, the hint of ease and leisure in Sylvia’s voice vanished. Her tone became slightly hoarse as she asked:
"So, you’re that certain?"
Buolanke nodded with a smile:
"No one understands Silquaya better than us from the Church of Machinery..."
"No, that’s not quite accurate. I should add a qualifier—"
"Other than you, no one understands Silquaya better than us Reformers."
"You should know, the name 'the Faceless One' was spread from us."
What?!
Sylvia was once again shocked, though it didn’t show in her tone:
"Couldn’t I just be an apostle of an Outer God from beyond the stars?"
Buolanke patiently listened to her words, then shook his head with a smile:
"No, Silquaya the Faceless—meaning you—has no apostles."
Even I didn’t know that!
Lacking complete information from her true body, Sylvia muttered inwardly and looked at him with eyes growing colder:
"Fine."
"Then what are you planning to do now?"
"Trying to kill me or seal me here?"
As she spoke, ripples began to flow through the starlight that formed her body, and her figure grew increasingly faint.
She was attempting to leave this strange space.
At that moment, Buolanke again shook his head with a smile:
"No, I have no such intentions."
"And I hope you’ll listen to what I have to say before trying to leave."
Sylvia’s attempt to escape suddenly halted. She looked at him with a gaze full of suspicion.
Seeing this, Buolanke smiled and began speaking:
"If any other Orthodox Church or force discovered your existence, their first move would be to try and drive you away."
"But we’re the only exception."
"Of course, this doesn’t mean we’re traitors or collaborators of humanity. Among all Outer Gods, you are the only one we treat this way."
"At least, that’s how we few Reformers who always serve by our Lord’s side see it."
"Because this approach comes from the divine revelation of our Lord."
Divine revelation?
A thought stirred in Sylvia’s mind, but she showed nothing outwardly. She simply gave a soft "hmm," signaling him to continue.
"But this goodwill is only temporary. Whether it can continue permanently depends on your attitude."
"My attitude?"
Sylvia responded with a now somewhat calmer voice:
"Is that so?"
Buolanke nodded, then raised his right hand and snapped his fingers—
In the next second, the entire space suffused with green light began to tremble, and yellow-green specks of light slowly emerged from the void, causing her vision to gradually blur.
"You are the symbol of progress and development!"
"You are the dawn that blooms in the moment before victory!"
"You are the everlasting brilliance of civilization!"
"Praise be to the great God of Reform!"
Buolanke intoned the revered name of the God of Industry and Machinery with a devout voice, which caused the green specks of light filling the space to begin resonating.
But at that moment, a sliver of doubt flickered in Sylvia’s mind:
The great God of Reform? Shouldn’t it be the God of Industry and Machinery?
She didn’t ask directly, but instead locked her gaze on him, waiting for his next move.
Then she heard his voice, now solemn and dignified:
"I want to know your thoughts after arriving in this world—"
He paused, then continued:
"Invasion, possession, plunder, or coexistence?"
Staring intently at his face, Sylvia answered in an extremely calm voice:
"Coexistence."
"I came here only in pursuit of certain things."
"Until you take actions that are harmful to me, I bear no malice toward you."
As her words fell, the entire space suddenly trembled, and Buolanke tilted his head slightly, as though listening to something.
In the next moment, the solemn expression on his face once again shifted to the relaxed and approachable smile from before:
"Thank you for your answer."
"We will always maintain goodwill toward you—until the moment you go against what you just said."
Sylvia regarded him with a slightly skeptical look, then nodded.
In her judgment, he had just performed some kind of simplified ritual—possibly one that could distinguish truth from lies?