Chapter 81: The Moment of Alternating Day and Night
In that instant, Isabella clearly froze for a moment.
“Mm…”
A hint of conflict appeared on her delicate face, along with a trace of embarrassment.
“Did you not consider this at all when laying down the base of the painting?”
Seated again, Sylvia looked at her, her gaze tinged with helplessness.
“When you think about things, you must be thorough—at the very least, consider the possible consequences.”
Hearing this, Isabella mumbled in a low voice,
“Didn’t you also forget to remind me?”
“Mm?”
“Nothing, nothing.”
The blonde girl quickly explained, while glancing at the black gauze drifting toward her.
“Clean it up yourself. In your current state, no one will notice you.”
“Mm.”
A few minutes later, watching her clumsily use tools to clean the floor, Sylvia asked,
“What conviction did you envision in your mind when you completed your metamorphosis?”
Hearing this, Isabella stopped what she was doing. She then playfully winked at the gray-haired puppet.
“Take a guess.”
“……”
……
At dusk, under the afterglow of the setting sun, Sylvia’s shadow stretched longer and longer behind her.
Standing before the grand doors of St. Ruls Cathedral, her gaze swept over the departing congregants one by one, then she stepped inside.
Passing through the long corridor, she stood beneath the altar. Lifting her head, she looked up at the statue surrounded by points of light and said nothing.
This was Silquaya the Faceless’s statue, but it was also her statue.
Whether in appearance or the spirituality contained within it, all had originated from her handiwork and pointed unerringly toward her.
Thus, after she renamed herself as “the Lord of Seven Sins,” the statue did not need to be replaced.
As for Silquaya the Faceless, in this world, it had never possessed any concrete form.
Its followers often used tangled lines, symbols of endless change, to signify that Outer God.
At last, she cast one more glance at the statue that belonged to her, allowing the motes of light clinging to it to flow into her body.
In this world, no matter what kind of authority or power the evil gods possessed, to harvest faith they all had to rely on the intermediary of a statue.
Except for statues like those in cathedrals—which required special construction to gather vast amounts of faith—small statues were far less troublesome to make. As long as their form and the engraved sigils pointed to that being, they would suffice.
This was why every believer who worshipped an evil god always kept a small statue hidden at home.
Feeling the divinity swelling within her, her gaze grew ever more profound.
Afterward, she walked toward the underground entrance and descended into the subterranean space.
At that moment, a priest she often encountered in the cathedral—someone ordinarily inconspicuous—had vanished at some point.
Because he had already received his new mission.
The doctrine of the Lord of Seven Sins had been fully compiled, and he had gone to another city in a different district to begin pilot dissemination.
Passing through the long but bright corridor, Sylvia returned to her office.
There, crouched atop the chair back with eyes closed in rest, Lakdevo instantly opened his eyes and let out an unpleasant screech to express his praise for his master’s return.
Saying nothing further, the gray-haired puppet simply motioned for him to fly onto her shoulder.
“The alternation of day and night is often a critical node in mysticism.”
“The moment when the projection of the Spiritual Full Moon enters or withdraws from reality, many things that can perfectly conceal themselves in the dead of night or broad daylight will reveal their anomalies.”
“And that node… seems near.”
“Caw!”
“Yes, my master!”
This world possessed the changes of the four seasons, and the length of day and night shifted accordingly. Thus, the time of their alternation varied completely from one date to another.
This inevitably made her suspect that this place might be a planet similar to her homeland.
But the memories within her mind told her this was impossible.
Because she possessed a memory—
Silquaya the Faceless stood high beyond the world, gazing down upon it with a posture of aloof scrutiny.
This was not Earth, nor even the universe she once knew.
Then what had caused such a phenomenon?
She did not know, nor could she imagine.
After all, the ancient records stated that these cycles of change had existed since ages past and were not some novelty of the past thousand years.
Drawing her thoughts back, Sylvia, with the fat crow perched on her shoulder, left the cathedral and lifted the nearest manhole cover.
Her gaze locked onto the descending ladder stained with some unknown viscous, gelatinous substance. At last, her expression remained blank as she kicked the cover back into place.
Having finished all this, she and Lakdevo’s figures vanished from the spot. In the very next second, her form reappeared in the sewers at the corresponding location.
She first focused carefully, sensing her surroundings, then shook her head and drew a pocket watch from her coat.
She casually flipped it open and glanced at the time.
“It’s nearly here.”
She spoke these simple words and then stood motionless in place, waiting.
Perhaps it was ten minutes, perhaps several dozen. Her spirituality began to stir as if it were responding to the summons of some power beyond.
Sensing this change, her gaze gradually grew profound.
The moment of the alternation of day and night had arrived!
At this instant, she focused her mind. The drifting spirituality and black gauze keenly detected any abnormal reactions within the sewers.
But as the seconds ticked by, her brows slowly knitted tighter and tighter.
“Did you find anything?”
This time, her voice held none of its usual hint of amusement. Instead, it carried a touch of doubt.
“Nothing.”
Lakdevo shook his head, and his tone likewise carried a trace of puzzlement.
Such a result could only mean one of two things: either there was no problem here at all, or the problem here was so immense that they were utterly unable to perceive it.
The second possibility could be ruled out first.
To hide from the senses of two Apostles, there was only one possibility—an influence imposed by the True Gods.
Aside from that, not even an evil god could accomplish it.
And the True Gods were called True Gods precisely because They had always maintained the world’s stability. There was no reason for Them to deliberately create anomalies.
But at that moment, she suddenly recalled that Lakdevo had once said he had glimpsed that same black aura clinging to the mutated creatures of the sewers behind the gates of the Divinity Realm.
“……”
In that instant, Sylvia suddenly felt a hint of wavering in her convictions.
Beyond the gates of the Divinity Realm lay the Kingdom of Gods, where there existed the same phenomena as here.
Looked at this way, perhaps the gods really were connected to the anomalies of this place.
Her gaze shifting slightly, she looked into the pitch-black depths of the sewer and spoke softly.
“Perhaps there is simply nothing to be discovered here. We can try going deeper.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Likewise sensing some clues and forming certain conjectures, Lakdevo flapped his wings, making his voice grow even louder.
Naturally, it was just as unpleasant to hear.
As she walked through the deathly still, chilly underground drainage system, Sylvia tilted her head slightly and asked in passing,
“There may indeed be dangers here—dangers capable of threatening both of us as we are now.”
“After all, judging by the clues we have, even that Child of the Moon never dares to come here after night falls.”
Hearing this question, Lakdevo fell silent for a moment before finally speaking in a low voice.
“I believe your thinking is not entirely accurate.”
“With the weakness of that Child of the Moon, any Apostle in a complete state would be enough to inspire his dread.”
“……”
“Fair point.”