Chapter 123: Going Home

"Good evening."

Hearing the call connect, York spoke first.

"Old man, you're still up this late?"

From the Vatican.

As the old man's voice traveled through the phone, hearing what seemed like a rather offensive remark, he began to smile with his eyes squinted.

"I'll sleep after I hear your story. I'm very curious how you managed it..."

York chuckled, leaning back with his hand supporting his head, looking out the window into the night, and spoke in a relaxed tone.

"Old man, before that, can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead."

"How did you know Sister Erin could help me?"

The old man's smile remained, "It was God's arrangement, York."

Hearing this response again, York laughed and said.

"Of course, you must have communicated with God Himself to know that Sister Erin could help me."

The old man simply laughed, not giving a direct response. York didn't mind and took it as confirmation that the old man had indeed communicated with God, and continued.

"Old man, funny enough, I was able to destroy the gates of hell also with the help of God Himself. Do you know how?"

Recalling the deep pit and the holy remnants in the photos, the old man showed an interested expression.

"Because the demon manifesting through the gates at Saint Cata Monastery was too powerful, one of the seventy-two demon pillars, the Blasphemer, Serpent Marquis Valac, ranked sixty-third..."

The voice from the phone continued as the old man glanced at Cecil standing beside him.

Cecil shook his head, indicating he knew nothing of the demon.

York kept talking without pause.

"He was too powerful, I couldn't defeat Him. Guess what, the novice nun you arranged was a godsend. She helped me find the remaining holy relic, the Blood of Christ..."

The old man raised his eyebrows slightly, picturing the corresponding scene in his mind, but the next words from the phone made him pause.

"Then, to defeat Valac and go to the chamber sealing the gates of hell, I drank the Blood of Christ."

York fabricated this story to cover the truth, feeling no guilt. He had done so much already that it felt like nothing.

"God incarnate descended, He merely lifted His hand and destroyed everything, including the gates of hell..."

As the voice came through the phone, the old man and Cecil's eyes widened.

"So, it wasn't me, but God Himself."

Following this statement, the church fell into temporary silence. York didn't hear a reply and squinted his eyes.

After a few seconds of silence.

"Did you really see God, child?" the old man asked earnestly, his smile bright.

York's gaze remained steady.

"Of course, it was all God's arrangement."

"Hehe."

The old man laughed again, looking up at the unchanged image of Jesus, agreeing.

"Yes, it's all God's arrangement, child. Thank you for your story. I should sleep well tonight."

"Goodnight, old man." York remained lying on his bed, nonchalantly saying.

"Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight, child. I will."

Saying so, the old man hung up the phone and continued to gaze at the image of Jesus, smiling broadly.

"Cecil, did you hear what York said?"

Cecil slightly bowed his head.

"I did, Your Holiness."

The old man pushed himself up from the chair, and Cecil quickly moved to support him.

"Your Holiness!"

Hearing the concern in his voice, the white-haired old man smiled calmly.

"I'm fine, Cecil. I'm glad because my choice was not wrong, and I have enough time to wait for the child's choice..."

Looking at the slightly bent back of the old man, a hint of unseen sorrow flashed across Cecil's face.

"Yes, Your Holiness."

...

"Ah, might as well keep blending in."

Hearing the call end, York shook his head and tossed the phone aside.

Of course, he didn't forget to make a confession.

At least he was truly confessing, especially after this mission. Having affirmed the existence of God, who is said to be omnipotent and omnipresent, surely He would know what York was doing now.

"Lord,"

York sat up straight, closed his eyes, and clasped his hands in prayer.

"I confess to You, forgive me for using Your name to tell a lie..."

...

As time passed, the night grew deeper, leaving only the muscular priest, who, unlike his previous playful attitude, was earnestly confessing.

A night without words.

The next day, under the sunlight, a farewell took place at the Lutheran Cathedral.

Wearing his bishop's robe, Bishop Rovshan looked at the robust young priest in front of him and the nun deacon assigned to him for the first time, feeling somewhat emotional.

"York, after this, I really don't know when we'll see each other again."

Having completed his daily fixed task and decided to go back today, York pursed his lips. He could feel the sentiment in Bishop Rovshan's words and understood why.

This parallel world's church is entirely different from the church of his previous life, with a presence in nearly every place, making its clergy quite numerous. When assigned to their own churches, unless there's an incident or headquarters' arrangement, priests and bishops generally don't move easily, let alone go abroad, with some dying in their own churches...

Thinking this, York smiled gently and said, "Please take care of yourself, Bishop Rovshan. Maybe in two years, we can stand on that platform and view the scenery again."

Reminded of their previous conversation on the platform, Bishop Rovshan smiled, his wrinkles fitting together.

"Hehe."

The old man waved goodbye, then his expression changed in an instant.

"Get lost. Seeing you always gives me a headache."

This remark surprised the surrounding clergy, who had not expected the usually gentle Bishop Rovshan to have such a rude side.

"Goodbye, Bishop Rovshan."

York's smile remained, he made the sign of the cross, bowed to the old man, then turned around.

"Let's go, Erin. We're going home."

As he spoke, Erin, who had already woken up and said her farewells to the monastery, bowed to Bishop Rovshan and the other clergy, then, carrying her somewhat heavy backpack, hurried to follow the priest.

The same van was responsible for their transport.

Brother Esas, still the driver, looked at the priest sitting in the backseat, remembering the giant crater, curiosity flickering in the depths of his eyes.

"Father York, today I will take you to the Bucharest International Airport, where we have arranged a private jet for you."

"Hmm."

York responded nonchalantly, helping Erin with her backpack as she tried to sit in the backseat.

Erin took a deep breath silently and then sat down.

York's lips curved slightly, looking at the waiting Brother Esas.

"Let's go, Brother Esas."

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