All the Cardinals are planning the mission work, with the sole exception of the Inquisition which holds reservations—as the Grand Inquisitor, he believes that a thorough cleansing of the cancer of civilization is necessary!

This is not only for the long-term benefits of the Church but also for the enduring peace of the Empire.

"That is not important." The Pope's tone was gentle yet authoritative, as his golden eyes gazed at the Grand Inquisitor, he slowly spoke, "If he is willing to protect the faith and order of the Holy City, we should grant him the sanctuary of the altar."

After speaking, he looked at Cardinal Hillfin, who had not spoken from the beginning to the end, and said with a kind yet subtly harsh voice.

"Arrange for a 'chance encounter'."

"We don't need to test his mercy, but we still need to test his faith. He must know, the divine light can shine upon him—or burn him to ashes."

Hillfin elegantly saluted, his actions and demeanor more akin to a noble who courts fame and fortune rather than a priest.

"At your command."

The flame of the Holy Candle flickered, the shadow cast by the metal Holy Grail on the wall twisted like the Church Court's invisible hand reaching towards secular power.

The shadow of the Grand Inquisitor had unknowingly vanished from the long bench, leaving only Gregory IX softly chanting a prayer in the vast secret chamber.

The Grand Inquisitor's suspicion was correct—

The Oracle bestowed by Saint Sis was not the poem he had just sung, for he truly did not know how to explain it to his followers.

In a fantastical dream, he saw a Holy City far more prosperous than the present, to the point that he could not look away.

It was a kaleidoscopic illusion, like boiling flames that scorched his eyes shut.

Amid a sea of metallic vehicles, countless figures thronged.

People busily and fully spent each day, and even after death, they continued to contribute, weaving their souls into a vast universe-like metropolis as grand as the stars.

This seemed like a good omen.

He was both astonished by the incredible nature of the Oracle and puzzled as to what guidance the revered One wished to impart to His children.

From the past, he had always seen floods in the allegories, with successive Popes interpreting it as the punishment of the Divine upon those who abandoned their faith, with a world-ending flood wiping everything clean for a new era to begin.

But now, the fate of the flood seemed to have been replaced by the 'Fire Fate,' as fires of nothingness raged across the iron-crafted earth!

Flames…

Gregory IX muttered to himself, trying to unravel the allegory.

This seemed unrelated to Prince Colin from the sea, for regardless of how one looked at it, coming from the sea, he corresponded to 'water' and 'wind.'

If the steam engine corresponded to 'fire,' it seemed a bit too far-fetched.

Gregory lightly shook his head, sighed, and eventually ended this meaningless exploration of the spirit world.

Perhaps this allegory merely depicted a great storm sweeping across the Vast Ocean, having nothing to do with that Prince, and the true omen would not be seen until decades later.

Countless lessons from history told them that the Oracle was a warning from Saint Sis, like a rope around the necks of those being judged, the more they struggled, the tighter it would be drawn.

Perhaps the root of the problem lay not within the Oracle itself but in many issues they had long ignored…

This was not something a single Pope could change.

At this moment, he could only voice his unease through prayer, hoping that in the not-too-distant future, a turning point would arise.

Just as it had countless times in the past thousand years…

...

Elsewhere, outside the cathedral, in a shadowy corner untouched by the Holy Light.

This too was a secret chamber.

However, compared to the secret chamber of Saint Clement Cathedral, this place was much colder and darker, like a coffin buried within a tomb.

A half-meter tall statue of an Enchanting Demon sat at the very front of the secret chamber, the granite shrine emanating an enthralling aura.

An elegant gentleman stood in front of the idol, the shadow falling beneath the candlestick perfectly covered his face.

After listening to the wicked teachings, the man standing with hands at his sides respectfully bowed, his unflappable voice tinged with subservience and reverence.

"...Yes, Lord Melusine."

"I will watch over him."

...

Morning, at the Withered Wood Port docks.

The sea breeze dispersed the morning mist, and the golden sunlight poured over the harbor, vibrant and summery all year round, illuminating the rejuvenated docks.

A towering three-masted steam ship docked at the pier, its white sails gleaming brilliantly in the morning light, the masthead fluttering with the Purple Moon Badge of the Colin family.

The Imperial construction crews were still at work, while marines carrying firearms patrolled the street in front of the port, and General Hamoldon and his fleet had already withdrawn, leaving this Purple Moon as the most striking ship at the dock.

After all, Hamoldon was the General of Saint Yil Castle, not Withered Wood Port, and could not guard this place for Prince Colin forever.

Although Hamoldon was quite reluctant to leave its culinary delights, duty called, and he departed after receiving the agreement.

Shortly after Hamoldon's departure, Luo Yan promptly organized his plan to travel to the Holy City, setting sail on this bright and breezy morning.

Though he did not leave with great fanfare, when it was time to depart, the port was nevertheless filled with people bidding him farewell.

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