The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1139 (Ch.1138) The Influence of Faith

The dream journey was unforgettable.

But more than the wondrous wonderland she could see with her own eyes, Elendira was delighted to have made friends besides the little candle—Mr. Collins, Miss Kratoff, Miss Shelley, and Miss Harida.

same.

The members of the tea party were also very satisfied with Little Candle's choice of friends: this red-haired woman was indeed very interesting and had many secrets hidden within her—just like Roland's initial standard: interesting.

She is qualified in this respect.

Although Rose was somewhat annoyed by Elendira's endless 'problems' throughout the latter half of the night.

for example.

What is a ruler?

'You don't even know what a ruler is?'

Not just rulers.

Many things that Rose considered common sense, Erendilla was completely unaware of—this woman even secretly asked her if it really snowed in winter while she was busy with Xander and Roland.

I have a feeling that someone scooped a piece out of her brain with a spoon.

'Very well, now we have a real fool among us.'

Sindel raised an eyebrow: 'The previous one might not have been fake either.'

Erendilla asked Sindel who the 'old' fool was, and Rose stared at her, asking if she knew who the current fool was.

They ate many oriental pastries conjured up by Roland, and Elendilla even learned to play a card game with an incredibly long name—which, according to Miss Kratoff, was designed and made by Mr. Roland Collins himself.

"...I truly don't know how lucky I am to have received that invitation, miss, sir. I..."

Before dawn.

The little candle finally woke up from its dream and yawned as it clung to Elendilla.

It's hard for a woman to describe everything she saw and experienced tonight.

“That’s only one reason, Miss Erendilla. I can say frankly that we had this plan from the very beginning, when Little Candle and Roland noticed the new use of the Fairy Ring.”

Sender bluntly told Elendira that the invitation was not made for her.

"We believe in the Master of Hope, the door in our eyes, the candle in the darkness. Perhaps in the future, every invitation will bring light to the most desperate corner..." This young woman from the Holy Cross understands better than most priests how to manipulate others and showcase herself using the mystique of religion and faith—

Just as a lady who loves literature chases after a poet, a poet chases after a romantic death, death chases after those who fear it.

When the topic turned to 'gods' and 'faith,' she seemed to become both calm and excited in an instant. Between these two emotions that shouldn't have been present in the same place, the girl gently pressed her hands against her suppressed, fervent heart.

"hope…"

Elendira's eyes widened.

hope.

What beautiful words.

The God with Copper Eyes.

Compared to the Father God who created all things, the deity in Xander's words is more 'concrete' and better suited to Erendilla's urgent needs: who doesn't lack 'hope'?

“I knew it! Miss! Sir! This is exactly what Little Candle told me! You are heroes in the darkness, ‘monsters’ who pursue the eternal sun in the dead of night… So many people have been helped by the Tea Party… I knew it! You shouldn’t be called ‘cultists’ at all…”

Sender smiled gently: “We are simply following the laws of the gods, Miss Erendilla. This world is too cold, and perhaps those who know nothing will ultimately be unable to accept us, or even fear us… but hope keeps ringing in our ears, Miss.”

"Again and again, never stopping..."

The devout are lonely.

Elendira had never felt such shame before, and it all came rushing to her heart tonight.

These few misunderstood believers, who uphold their vows and ideals, continue to sway their compassionate and solemn souls like undulating waves, even when they suffer criticism and hardship—compared to them, what is her suffering?

She just lost her legs and can't walk.

"Allow me to offer you my highest respect..." In her excitement, Erendira grasped Roland's hand without further ado—which instantly drew all eyes in the room to Erendira's palm.

She clearly didn't understand just how serious a crime it was for a sword of the Holy Cross to secretly worship other gods.

Simultaneously.

The girl, who had been immersed in the story of 'Hero Collins' for too long, naturally wouldn't notice the attitudes of the members of the "tea party" towards 'hope' and 'compassion'—they mentioned these two words less frequently than Elendilla secretly flipped through the forbidden books throughout the night.

“You’ve fooled a fool, Kratofer. You have less conscience than I thought.” Rose’s sarcastic voice echoed in the room a few minutes after Erendira left.

Hope, compassion. Heroic tales.

—Thief, madwoman, joke queen, black slave and cold-blooded killer, mutant.

Which of these creatures possesses both of these things?

They don't even have enough for themselves, how can they provide for others?

It's a wonder that foolish girl actually believed Roland.

“Another shallow woman who’s been bewitched by you,” Rose said, glancing sideways. “She has nothing else on her mind.”

“Yes, Shelley, what else do they usually have on their heads?” Sandel leaned against Roland, smiling at her.

"You want me to beat you up in front of Roland?" Rose grinned.

“No wonder you’re disliked, Shelley,” Sender said, not wanting to provoke Rose any further, knowing this rude woman was absolutely capable of anything. “It seems the ‘invitation’ does indeed work on mortals. Roland, we can proceed to the next step…”

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Roland wasn't entirely in favor of their idea—to spread the name of "The Door in the Eyes" more widely and frequently among mortals, continuing along the ritual of "becoming a god through incense offerings"...

Until Roland reached the end of the ceremony.

Honestly, the whispers in his ear have been becoming more frequent and clearer lately.

The "invitation" was just one small change—it affected the little candle.

And so it went, as his 'faith' grew stronger and more abundant…

Yam, Uncle, including the members of the tea party.

Roland could not guarantee that more changes would occur in them—and all of this originated from the increasingly noisy prayers in his ears.

faith.

This is a spiritual pound that all sects crave but have never discovered how to 'use'—an ethereal yet real spiritual pound with absolute power.

He couldn't control his thoughts.

Just as he didn't know if the aberration would one day happen to Jam Jones.

"I understand your lack of sensitivity to the world's changes. Roland, Shelley, Harida. But the ritualists of the Cradle of Flesh have fired the first shot—after that, the government and the Cult of the Crown Gods can no longer conceal the existence of supernatural powers from the citizens..."

What does this mean?

Sindel lifted Roland's shoulder and softly called for Harida to sit down.

“There will be more and more people performing the rituals, representing…” Harida hesitated for a moment.

“This means the world is becoming increasingly dangerous, Harida,” Shandel said, lowering her eyes. “In the past, ritual practitioners followed certain 'rules' that were known to each other, and few truly created horrific hell before deciding to become cultists…”

Rose's green eyes flickered slightly.

indeed.

It is different now.

As more and more people participate in rituals, more and more people naturally break the rules—aristocrats? The wealthy? Politicians?
When someone realized that this blade, called the Extraordinary, could easily pierce through layers of falsehood and bluster...

How will this group of vicious thugs, who have never tasted the sweetness of honey, treat the good-for-nothing guarding the sugar bank?

Cut off their heads.

then.

They stripped off their clothes and wrapped themselves up tightly.

"Perhaps older 'women' are willing to believe in mystical prophecies, but I only want to see you climb upwards, Roland, ever upwards..."

Sender subtly mocked a woman who never did anything productive, a familiar fervor and excitement flashing in his azure eyes:
"What's wrong with sacrificing the faith of some people... paying a 'price' that we don't yet know the details of... for this?"

"The Crown God Cult has been doing this for many years."

She gazed at Roland, looking at a figment of her wildest fantasies from both near and far.

The girl's thoughts made her tremble uncontrollably, her jaw chattering.

What a wonderful future.

Roland Collins, and so, went completely mad in his endless whispers…

or…

(End of this chapter)