The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 29 Bishop Kratov
Silver ring heart anchor.

Enid was fairly satisfied.

Although she said that there were many people who did this in the trial court or the Supervisory Bureau.

The places that everyone fiddles with are the inner circles, engravings or patterns.

Smarter ones, like Roland, focus on the touch and material.

Just be clear about it yourself.

For ritualists to hope to gain victory by deceiving and confusing each other through the "field" is as ridiculous as two knights mounting their war horses but hoping to drown each other with spit.

Heart anchors are mainly used in the sleep world.

So, he passed.

"Come with me to register at the church. By the way, your purification ceremony has been delayed for a long time."

Enid put on her gloves and led Roland into the carriage.

There are churches and monasteries in both the East and West districts, but the Inquisition is only built in the West district.

They first had to register in the East District, undergo a purification ceremony, and then go to the West District.

Holy Cross Church.

Roland had never been inside since coming to London.

There was only a small church where he originally lived. Apparently big cities are different.

Priests often preach and give out porridge around this tall, rugged white building. Some poor people who are sick or can't afford to eat often wander around the church. If they are lucky, they will be "selected" and relieved of their suffering in a few days.

Of course, there is a difference between the two.

At least the pain was relieved. Roland had never seen the real story. Compared with the porridge he actually ate, this was more like a legend.

A legend like fairies and dragons.

The carriage stopped cautiously at the end of a street: it was some distance from the church.

"I can go no further, ma'am, sir."

Enid expressed her understanding, gave the money, and half-helped Roland get out of the car.

——Actually, it counts as a hug.

"…Miss."

"You're welcome," Enid hummed happily from her throat and adjusted his collar. "I'm taller and stronger than the average person."

"I like you more than most people."
-
Terrible.
-
I'm actually a little used to you now.

Roland twitched his lips uncomfortably.

The church is right in front of us.

The Latin cross made of unusual materials is integrated with the complex and gorgeous Baroque style. In the beautiful dream, it overlooks the city from a high place - or it may also represent the concept of the person who built it:

The Spirit looks down upon His flock.

Full of oppression.

"I heard it was at least two hundred feet high."

"Three hundred and sixty-five feet, to be exact," Enid replied.

Walking among the crowd, her black dress was like a sharp sword that split water, clearing a path for the people around her to pass side by side.

It was a look of awe.

Roland quietly raised his head.

He saw the dome.

The downward-curving stone roof looks like a giant whale emerging from the water, and at the very top, the symbol of the Holy Cross almost reaches the clouds.

It seems to be high in the sky.

It's spectacular...

"It's a pity you can't see it, Roland."

Seeing Roland sighing, Enid thought he was lost because of his blindness, and she couldn't help but introduce him.

This building, which has almost become a landmark, has a great history.

“…He spent forty years rising through the ranks, and when he left, he left us this wonder.”

"Him?" Roland turned his head and looked at Enid. "Who?"

"The builder of this church is no longer in the waking world." Enid nodded to the priest who passed by and led Roland up the stairs. "Forty long years..."

"This miracle on earth is the ritual object he uses to ascend."

"The Immortal Stairs."

ceremony…

Roland secretly smacked his lips.

Build such a magnificent church as a stepping stone for yourself.

An unimaginable feat.

Go through the gate.

They came in.

The "scenery" in Roland's eyes suddenly changed.

Unlike the vicissitudes of the outside, the interior decoration can hardly be described as simply "gorgeous":

The dome, which is beyond human reach, is painted with exquisite murals, and the porches and bell towers are uniquely designed. The art, which was polished or painted over a long period of time, seems to have frozen the past forever.

As you step into here, the sound of prayers echoes in your ears all the time.

A sacred and magnificent sanctuary.

"That's the Eden Anthem."

"Eden" as described in the Teachings of the Holy Cross.

The resting place of the Father of All Things is His kingdom of God, the origin of everything, and the place closest to Him.

The wicked go to hell, and the good go to heaven.

Only the greatest and most devout are qualified to cross the path and reach the holy place where the Father of All Rests.

Place of origin: Eden.

Enid did not take Roland through the main gate, where the believers prayed.

Instead, after arriving at the door, he turned a corner and headed towards a small road.

She saw Roland tilting his head to listen to the footsteps, and couldn't help laughing:
"You don't have to remember the way. If nothing unexpected happens, you won't have to come here again for a long time."

They came to an empty hall, and then...

Down? At least that's how Roland felt they were going.

After going around a narrow circular road, on the west side of the building, there are some white stone pillars with the pale flames in their eyes reflecting their ups and downs.

Suddenly it opened up.

There were monks walking slowly, some holding books, some holding the Holy Cross, and muttering something silently.

Some older people led children aged seven or eight... or even younger, talking as they walked.

As soon as Roland stepped into this place, he felt something was wrong.

——It was as if some moisture appeared out of nowhere and washed over my skin.

A little itchy.

It stings a little.

Enid walked straight inside, and soon, an old man with gray hair and eyebrows came to meet her.

He was not as tall as Enid, was fat, had short hair, and a very round and shiny nose, like the butt of a pipe.

He was wearing a white collared shirt and a dark green robe, with a long silver chain hanging on his chest.

That Holy Cross was much larger than the others.

"What wind brought you here?"

"Bishop Kratov." Enid pointed her finger at her forehead, shoulders, and heart, bowed, and performed the sacrament meticulously: "I bring this child to register."

"Call me Uncle, or Old Gary, Enid. I watched you grow up, so don't learn the bad habits of the Inquisition."

Gary Kratov's smile was not at all distant, and was as gentle as an ordinary old man with no status or power.

He looked at Roland carefully and asked Enid again.

"Preparatory executive officer?"

"Yes."

"Come with me, child."

Enid gently nudged Roland and whispered in his ear, "Come out when you're done."

Before Roland could react, he was embraced by the old bishop's big hands.

"Come on, kid. You've made it big, you know that?"

Roland felt the other person's big hands rubbing his back, burning hot.

His arms were so strong that Roland almost wanted to 'snuggle' into him.

Gary Kratov didn't take him far: to a small room behind a huge wooden door in this 'Whitehall'.

There were many candles lit inside, each as thick as his wrist.

So, there will be no shadows here.

In the center of the room stood a huge mahogany altar, upon which was placed an open golden-covered scripture at least six or seven feet long and an inch thick.

It's like a golden box with pages that can be turned.

The old bishop let go of Roland, stepped forward, pulled out the silver knife that was placed on the table next to the book, and held Roland's arm with his other hand.

"It hurts a little, but not too much."

He said.

Then, he gently pressed the blade of the knife on Roland's fingertips, making a small cut, and used a glass bottle similar to an ink bottle to collect his dripping blood.

"You have such nice skin, kid..."

There was only the solemn atmosphere of crackling candlelight, and the bishop suddenly said something strange.

Then, the pair of hands that had become scorching hot touched Roland's wrist.

palm.

Forearm.

Like choosing cloth and silk.

Rough and prickly.

He is in...

Touch him?
"…grown ups?"

Roland instantly got goosebumps.

"You are a beautiful child..."

In the blazing candlelight, the elderly bishop's kind smile became eerie in Roland's eyes.

He looked at Roland with affectionate eyes.

"You are the most beautiful child I have ever seen..." He exhaled hot air, and his mouth smelled of alcohol.

"My lady taught me, my lord. I thought I was ready long ago."

As Roland spoke, he forcefully pulled his arm out of his hand - he knew the expression on the other's face without even looking.

"He looks sorry."

The old bishop smacked his lips, his eyes moving around Roland's face and neck for a long time, until Roland began to repeat "Enid" again. Only then did he pick up the pen with disappointment on his face and write a few lines in blood.

"Roland Collins... Candidate for the 45th Tribunal Executor..."

"Recommended by: Enid Jutia."

Green smoke came out of the bloody font, and there was a sizzling sound as if a piece of meat was thrown into a flame.

Roland felt that he had a connection with the scripture.

'The light flows into the brain, and the skull can hardly bear it.'

'Abandon the thought of mercy and evil, and practice the truth.'

A loud voice roared in my brain——

Like guiding, maybe seducing.

'The only cure for evil is bondage.'

'Truth becomes invisible when the body is shed.'

it says.

Until the winter flames in Roland's eyes began to burn fiercely, like a devil's fire falling on flesh and blood, spreading all over his sight.

Until the sound is burned out.

All that was left was the heavy breathing of the bishop beside him and the crackling of the candlelight.

It was like an illusion, disappearing without a trace.

(End of this chapter)