The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1031 Ch.1030 Odel Gordian's Magnificent Fire

Church, Whitehall.

Every week, during the grand prayer service, Gary Kratoff led the believers and the children to the monastery—frankly, many believers secretly objected, saying that how could the bishop be allowed to travel back and forth to such a filthy place as the monastery every week?
This is Gary Kratoffer.

Who are the people in the monastery?

Of course, of course.

This is just talk in private—no one dares to say it out loud, otherwise, even the church members who just expressed their approval would immediately jump out to criticize them.

Odell Gordien ran his broad palm over the ivory-carved cross, his eyes filled with an indescribable complexity.

A magnificent golden robe trailed behind, casting a candlelight glow.

Several believers followed silently behind him: Why did this important figure from the Council of Truth come to visit today?

He was unaware that Bishop Kratofer went to the monastery every week on this day.

They dared not ask.

He simply followed him silently as he 'wandered' around Whitehall—Odell Gordian shouldn't have been curious about anything here. He came from the lower rungs of the church and had worked in Whitehall in his youth, where he had worked with Gary Kratofer for many years.

He should know this place inside and out.

“…So beautiful,” Odell Gordien exclaimed.

“Lord Gordian,” a parishioner behind him asked, mustering his courage, “I’ve heard you’ve worked with the bishop in Whitehall for many years…”

“Seventeen years, to be precise.” Odel Gordien sized up the overly young believer, noting the stubble on his face, and easily discerning 'purity' and 'integrity' in his eyes and brows—the Church was different from the Council of Truth, and different from 'Whitehall'.

Just as 'mortals are below, ritualists are above,' there is a similar saying in the Holy Cross: the Council of Truth is at the top, followed by the Church, then the Monastery, and finally, the Overwatch Council.

Like the courtroom, Whitehall is detached from 'hierarchy'.

The latter is a cave of savages, the former a temple of saints.

Those who are chosen to sit in Whitehall need not question their faith in God.

"That's far too long, sir."

The young believer was very surprised.

Seventeen years ago, Odel Gordien worked with Bishop Kratoff in Whitehall: 'worked', not 'served'.

This means that twenty years ago, Mr. Gordien was among the most outstanding ritual practitioners in the church—in addition to his purity and steadfastness of faith, he also went further than anyone else on the mystical path.

“Back then, no one could stand shoulder to shoulder with me… I thought I was the best, just like you,” Odel Gordien said, his eyes filled with nostalgia. “Then… I went to Whitehall and met Bishop Gary.”

He said.

"Guess what?"

A fellow believer whispered, "You are still the best."

Several young people lowered their heads and chuckled.

Odel Gordien, unperturbed, dragged his robes and swayed slowly forward: "...Bishop Gary Kratofer taught me a lesson. Young believers, your path is too long...so long that we may never see the day when the future of the Holy Cross will come out of Whitehall one by one."

He didn't linger on the topic of 'learning a lesson,' as the young believers thought it was probably not a story that should be told in public.

“Yes, sir. Just like Cinder Kratofer. We, the Holy Cross, will always have geniuses. In every age, in every calamity—we are always the best, just like the Father…”

Odel Gordien gazed at the carving of saints trekking on the wall, where several wriggling black 'threads' slowly threaded in and out of the seams.

He avoided the gazes of the worshippers, lowering his eyelashes and chuckling softly.

"Of course, I've heard of her, and I've met the girl recently. I must say, she's more attractive than I was in my youth..."

Taking advantage of the conversation, Odell Gordien 'casually' asked:
Is she in the courtroom?

The believer shook his head.

“At the church, Mr. Gordien.”

He told Odel Gordien that not only was Shandel Kratofer there, but she had also brought back an extra black raven. "Roland Collins?" Gordien murmured the name unconsciously, his words trembling.

The believer exclaimed in surprise, "Your friend?"

The believers had no idea what Collins was.

“Roland Collins…it seems we need to be more careful this time…” Odel Gordien sighed in disappointment. “However, we have countless hours…a long lifespan…”

He muttered to himself, which made the believers behind him feel increasingly strange.

"Lord Gordian?"

The young purist called softly to Gao Xi, who was lost in thought, when he suddenly turned around and revealed a pair of eyes full of holes from his long, wide hood.

The shadow faded from his face, and everything came to an abrupt end.

"big--"

Feather-like, delicate tendrils wield the invisible cutting blade of the butcher.

The believers heard this and exclaimed in surprise.

His uncontrolled gaze spun rapidly until it landed on the marble floor adorned with gold patterns.

No one truly exceptional could have made the right and effective response at that moment: Odel Gordian, who served the Council of Truth and was one of the highest-ranking clergy in the church—how could he possibly commit murder in Whitehall?
Their three seconds of stunned silence almost sealed their fate: sparks from the Fifth Ring Road ignited the walls, carpets, scriptures, and everything else that could burn.

Odell Gordien strolled leisurely, using no more than five rings of force to drive away and 'whip' the parishioners in Whitehall—

These humans who had not reached the higher realms had no power to resist.

after all.

Human flesh and soul...

It is so fragile.

"Ode—" Some people who came out of the room at the sound were only surprised by the blood and flesh blooming everywhere. Before they could call out the full name, they were enveloped by the magnificent flames that came towards them.

The very few, even the more accomplished, ritual practitioners could only erect their own "walls" to resist Odell Gordian's massacre.

It only held out for less than five seconds.

Brilliant sparks, like falling stars, struck their invisible wall one after another.

The "secret" was like a cascading waterfall in just a few seconds, and soon they had nothing left to use. They would have to wait until midnight to draw upon these precious powers again in their dreams—midnight of the next life.

"This is impossible…"

"Go quickly...go and inform...inform..."

No one can escape this scorching, blood-soaked hell.

The body, pierced by the alien gluttons, is far 'greater' than that of an ordinary ritualist—'Odel Gordian's' body can absorb and contain three times the 'secrets' of an ordinary sixth-ring ritualist.

and so.

A burst of damage within two minutes.

There was no human being in Whitehall who could stand against him.

There are no enemies outside that can rival it... at least not within the same ring.

"You'd better be careful. Odel Gordien's identity is still useful."

After the horrific massacre ended and Whitehall fell silent.

A child of God slowly crawled out from under the Holy Table.

He glanced at Odell Gordien, got up, found a mirror, and straightened his hair and collar.

(End of this chapter)