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The gift of GoD - NONEXISTENCE

"What's your name?""Althur." He weakly replied. "Arthur." The man muttered. "No sir, Al-thur." Althur remembers that time. Althur was an orphan who was picked up from the cemetery on a cold night by his mentor. Years later, when he was about to graduate, he received news that his mentor had died suddenly. A strange mirror leads him to a city where an exorcist has been killed under mysterious circumstances. Following these suggestions, he went to a city to investigate the mysterious death of an exorcist. What could happen? Non-existence. How to find it.

The_Prophet_Er · Fantasy
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49 Chs

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Following the mirror, he hoped to find something when he came to this city. However, he hadn't found anything yet. He sighed silently. His power was not able to read the future at all. "If only there was an object." He whispered in his heart.

"And are there other kindnesses?"

Father Colby said, "Yes, there are."

"Because the body is being kept in the basement of the morgue at the police station. I will write them a letter informing them of your visit and asking for their assistance."

"If there are any other problems, contact Claude. He is the one who brought you here."

"And in case you don't know, in order to prevent mutations in the corpse, the Church has performed a complete purification of the body. We performed a ritual similar to how we honor death for the servants of the Goddess."

"I appreciate that, Father."

They both stopped talking for a while until Althur continued, "Okay, it looks like someone needs to solve this mystery. Of course, I'll do my best."

The bishop said, "You have traveled a long way, right? If you want to rest, let's go to Gray Street. There are some motels there if you need a place to sleep." He seems to have become a humanitarian, helping believers from far away.

"Thank you, but it's a simple matter. No need to bother you, Father. I'll find it myself." Althur stood and said goodbye before leaving the room.

Althur got up and said goodbye before walking out of the room. When he made his way to the door, he suddenly turned around and said to the priest, "By the way, Father, it looks like your trees on the balcony need more water. You might want to give them some water."

He did not wait for a response. He closed the door behind him and exited, but he could still hear the chilling "thank you" from the other side of the door.

As he continued down the hallway, he came across the young priest he had seen earlier. He was enthrallingly relating the histories of the pieces of art that adorned the church's walls to a young boy. His appearance is as clean and shiny as a bisque doll, and his round eyes are like two moons that make hearts fall.

The priest spoke proudly about the goddess and her champions, who overcame four disasters and stopped seven plagues. Meanwhile, Brahms remained oblique and quiet. He was in awe of the beauty all around him, yet he showed no emotion on his face.

When he heard footsteps, the boy looked in the direction of the young gentleman and jumped up. He staggered to Althur's side.

"Are you having a good time?" Althur asked. The boy nodded and hid behind Althur.

"And thank you, Father Claude." He looked at the young priest.

"I'm still a plantarium, so don't call me Father. You can just call me Mr. Claude, which is very nice. And that little boy is such a sweet boy. By the way, did the discussion go well?"

A plantarium means a small tree in the Archaic language, which means they felt the Ameratat Tree. In other words, they had passed the first awakening ritual. Not everyone in the church can join the holy pilgrimage. But if the priest in front of him had initially succeeded, then he would have been one of the chosen few. The current hierarchy is not as karmic as what Robert said before. Those are things that used to happen; however, many things have changed now.

"It seems so. But I hope you can help me with a few things," said Althur gently.

"Like fruits on the trees and like grains on the fields, you can take it." The priest answered right away. He used his words to convey their generosity, as though the fields were abundant.

"How long have you been in this city?" He asked.

"No, I've only been here for about a year. I came from The Holy See directly and went here to serve in this diocese." Claude seemed proud.

"Did you notice anything out of the ordinary?" he probed.

"Uhm, what do you mean by ordinary?" Mr. Claude thought "The only unusual thing that immediately came to mind was why the Temple of the Sun isn't here but only our church."

"Did any ideas come to your mind?"

"No. Absolutely no." He honestly.

"What about ghosts and spirits?"

Brahms, who stood silently beside Althur, looked up with scrutinizing eyes because he really wanted to hear about the ghost parts. But he only received a simple reply.

"More than usual, but how does one determine what is normal?"

"A lot of people here die from digging coal. Coal mining is a dangerous job."

"The goddess hoped for wealth to come from the earth, arising from fruits and grains. Because the harvest results from sowing and diligence. But now, things have changed. People are racing to dig deep into the earth and deny the holy word. But who knows? They no longer have control over their own lives." The priest sighed.

From the priest's words, he could gauge their view of the current social change. Apparently, not only the Church but also the Temple rejected these based on their teachings. "Who know? Everything will change." He said it silently. He glanced at the ornate tapestries hanging on the wall.

"Haunted and possessed."Arthur inquired, even though the response wouldn't surprise him. This mining city was fabricated through fraud.

"Of course. Because people die because they don't want to. That is why their resentments and regrets last longer. There are a few cases, but your people usually do it more than we do."

"Are there any unusual incidents?"

"If it is unusual for a large number of relatives and loved ones to be constantly haunted by the deceased, then we can consider it as such."

"I guess so."

"We don't know what goes on in the mines, we didn't go down there, but your men did."

"Have you seen James?"

The priest's tone had become bland when he said, "Sometimes, he used to go with the town manager when we held mass and appeasement."

"And the town manager." Althur asked with a curious tone.

"A mammon." He answered briefly but quickly added, "Haha. I'm just talking about his appearance."

He smiled shyly and explained, "The town manager was a good man, a generous benefactor, and a devout follower. He donated to the church that tapestry to wish blessings from Her."

"I see." When he looked outside, he noticed that the road had darkened. He chose to say his goodbyes and depart from the church.

"As darkness approached, we appreciated your help. That's all for today. Let's talk more another day." He said goodbye respectfully.

"May you reap what you sow." Claude replied.

"Yes. Thank you." He turned and said, to Brahms. "Let's say goodbye."

"Goodbye."

He quickly took Brahms and walked out of the church. The streets were dimly lit by gas lamps that cast long shadows on the path. As the curtain of night fell, everything became lifeless. In contrast to the vitality of where he had just come from.

Being in the north, the air is brisk and cold, in stark contrast to the warmth of the day. By this time, most people had gone home, leaving the streets empty and quiet.

He thought about what would happen if he left the church. After a moment's hesitation, he began to choose a direction. Althur took little Brahms by the hand and led him somewhere in the darkness.