Cold!
So cold!
An intense, bone-chilling cold transmitted through her clone's senses directly to her main body, making Celia shake uncontrollably, as if a bucket of ice water had been violently poured over her head!
At the same time, images from the clone's perspective kept flooding into her mind!
The gloomy underground, the frozen tavern, the rushing river...
Under the layering of these three chills, the boundary between clone and main body seemed to gradually blur. Celia could no longer tell whether this was a physical sensation from her clone or just an illusion of her own mind.
As the cold overlapped, Celia's consciousness grew increasingly dazed. She felt as if she were sinking into a bottomless, dark-shrouded frozen river, drifting deeper and deeper down...
Everything around her receded, leaving behind only an unchanging gloom and emptiness...
Chirp!
Suddenly, a crisp bird chirp shattered the dead silence. It seemed to cross countless barriers to reach Celia's ears, ethereal yet carrying a hint of reality.
Guided by this sound, her consciousness slowly began to return...
Chirp, chirp, chirp! Chirp, chirp, chirp!
With another round of chirping, Celia snapped awake. She hastily sat up and began to pant heavily.
“Hah... Hah...”
The chill still lingered, but her thoughts grew clearer with the bird chirps.
Gradually, she realized that everything just now had been an illusion brought on by her clone. She had already left the underground exchange and returned to her own residence.
As she calmed down, Celia raised her hands in front of her, spreading them slightly. She then rhythmically exhaled, inhaled, and exhaled onto her palms, trying to separate the perceptions of the two bodies.
Inhaling and exhaling... the warmth of her breath felt increasingly real against her hands, and finally, the chill in Celia's heart dissipated...
Looking around again, she was no longer in the gloomy underground or the freezing river, but sitting quietly on the canopy bed in her room.
Sunlight streamed through the window, spilling onto her face, cozy and warm...
As her mind and body gradually synchronized, Celia began to examine herself.
“It seems the clone's condition also affects the main body. I must keep this in mind at all times, otherwise, it'll be disastrous if someone takes advantage of it during a fight.”
“Also, how did those people find that place so quickly, and right when I was looting?”
Was it a coincidence?
But could there really be such a coincidence in this world?
Strange, very strange...
“But according to that knight, the woman seems to be an envoy from somewhere. Perhaps this is some kind of ability of theirs?”
“Or is it an observation effect of the Destiny pathway?”
Celia could only guess. Her understanding of the Beyonder world was still too limited; she definitely needed to learn more about it in the future.
Quieting her mind once more, she began to review what had happened before she returned to her residence...
In the beginning, when the knight squad initiated the lockdown, she had tried to make her clone hide in the shadows to observe their movements.
From the conversation between the woman and the knight, as well as the ice crystals condensing on her fingertips when she touched the corpse, Celia deduced that the other party had an extraordinary background and possessed a certain degree of sensory ability. If her main body moved rashly even with the concealment black robe, she would likely be detected.
Thus, she used her clone to draw the woman's attention, attempting to lure her away so her main body could seize the opportunity to escape.
Fortunately, despite some twists and turns along the way, the outcome was good.
The clone successfully escaped by jumping into the river, and Celia, relying on that hard board that boosted her movement speed, quickly carried her sack all the way out of the black market and back to her residence. Afterward, she converted all the spiritual items—except for that bronze mirror—into spirituality points.
Her spirituality points had reached 320, which was more than enough for a rewind. She could finally relax for a while.
Phew... At this thought, she let out a long sigh of relief.
She was in no hurry to use the spirituality points. If she encountered another crisis in the future, she could exchange them for specific abilities as needed, which would be much more effective.
As for investigating the mastermind behind the scenes, she planned to ask the fortune-teller shop owner later to help decipher the parchment manuscript. Perhaps it contained clues about the mastermind. If all else failed, she could always come back and spend spirituality points to ask the Notes of Destiny.
After all, she followed the principle of “getting a free ride whenever possible” in everything she did, which was only natural.
Having sorted out her plans, Celia relaxed and lay down comfortably on the large bed.
The sunlight outside was at its peak, spilling over her body and making her feel a bit lazy.
“Ahhh, so sleepy...”
Rubbing her eyes, Celia couldn't help but yawn, soon feeling exhaustion wash over her like a tide.
Waking up early to perform the ritual, resolving the assassination attempt, dealing with Vincent, and controlling her clone to escape pursuit—one event after another had battered her nerves, making her eyelids droop uncontrollably.
Finally, unable to withstand the oncoming drowsiness, Celia closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
...
By the time she woke up again, the sun had already begun to sink in the west, casting its light to drape a golden veil over the wooden floor.
Celia had already lost track of how many prayers she had missed today. All she knew was that she had just had a wonderful sleep.
Draped in her holy robe, her bare feet stepping onto the cool floor, she stretched languidly, her heart feeling exceptionally light.
Glancing at the grandfather clock nearby, she estimated the time. Confirming there was no issue, she poured a cup of water from the silver pitcher on the long table, took a piece of hard bread from the cabinet, and leaned against the window to eat slowly.
The bread was very hard, but she ate it mindfully, taking tiny bites. Perhaps because she was too exhausted today, even such coarse food suddenly tasted delicious.
Stuffing the last bit of bread into her mouth, Celia picked up her cup and took small sips, using the water to help swallow the bread bit by bit.
Once everything was finished, she leisurely tidied up her things, preparing to go pray.
Based on her observations over the past period, the bishop rarely went out. Even if he did, it usually wouldn't be for more than a day. At this hour, she estimated that the bishop should be back soon, so she didn't plan on skipping this time...
Just then, the church bells rang again, striking thirteen times, as always.
After listening, Celia gently picked up her holy scriptures and walked out the door.
...
High atop the distant clock tower, the fading glow of the setting sun shimmered faintly. The young girl's cheeks, bathed in the rosy twilight, looked gentle and moving, as if she were a Saintess who had stepped right out of a holy painting.
A raven on the clock tower seemed drawn to her holy radiance as well; it tilted its head slightly toward her and let out a low, echoing cry.
Stepping on the crimson twilight scattered across the ground, Celia pushed open the doors and entered the cathedral.
The scene inside was as holy and solemn as before. The hymns of the choir echoed clearly from the altar, ethereal and beautiful.
Bishop Samuel had also returned. He was standing in front of the pulpit, seemingly organizing the scriptures for the evening prayer.
Seeing Celia enter, he raised his gaze and nodded slightly. “Saintess Celia.”
“Yes, Lord Bishop.”
Celia lifted her pristine white holy robe, curtsied, and immediately thought of leaving in a hurry to run into the inner sanctuary for a good sleep.
After all, her precious youth must not be wasted on meaningless prayers. If she slept three hours more than others every day, she would sleep nearly ten thousand hours more over nine years. During that time, she could have all kinds of wonderful dreams, which would greatly enrich her life experiences.
However, she hadn't walked far when the bishop suddenly called out to her, his aging voice ringing in her ears once more: “Saintess Celia, there will be a sermon after this evening prayer.”
Hearing the bishop's words, Celia quickly turned around and replied obediently, “Understood, Lord Bishop! I will definitely listen carefully this time!”
Bishop Samuel would remind her of prayer-related matters and future arrangements every time. Then, to make sure she took it seriously, he would ramble on and on.
But in reality, what he said was always the same old clichés, like “those who pray will receive the Goddess's grace” or “the devout will surely be redeemed.” Celia was already tired of hearing it.
Fortunately, this time the bishop did not lecture her as usual. He seemed to have something on his mind, merely replying casually, “Yes. Do not fall asleep while listening like last time.”
After a moment of silence, he added, “It is not good for the Saintess's image.”
“Yes, yes, I definitely won't this time.” Celia quickly nodded in agreement.
Liar, I'll totally do it again! No way you're keeping me awake!
But what was wrong with that old fogey today? Why did he seem a bit distracted? Ah, whatever, who cares? It had nothing to do with her anyway!
Crossing the altar screen in one breath, she entered the inner sanctuary. Kneeling before the altar with an easy expression, she clasped her hands, rested her forehead against them, and quickly fell fast asleep.
After an unknown amount of time, the bells rang again. The prayers were finished, and the sermon began.
Half-asleep, Celia vaguely heard a solemn and resonant voice:
“My flock, since the Second Epoch, the power of our Goddess has been waning day by day. With the decline of her protection, her believers are enduring unprecedented suffering and pain...”
“There is an ancient prophecy: when the last believer on the continent completely forgets the Goddess, her existence will gradually fade into nothingness, and corruption will spread across the land, devouring everything...”
“There is also a saying that the Goddess has fallen into a deep slumber to resist a certain entity within the Abyss. Only through continuous prayer can we help her maintain her will and combat evil, so that we are not disturbed by wicked thoughts and our survival can be sustained...”
“No matter what, we must always firmly believe that only through devout prayer can we truly escape suffering and allow this city to revitalize...”
“We should remember Saintess Isariel, the Saintess who fought for our city until her last breath three years ago. Even in her final moments, she never forgot the Goddess and her believers. It was also she who set the bells of Leytin City to strike thirteen times...”
“This was not a baseless act, nor a sudden whim, but a way to warn us that the Goddess always needs our remembrance and response...”
“...”
“...”
“Finally, foul things have been breeding during this period. You must lock your doors and windows tightly, and do not go to the slums or dark alleys. If you notice anything unusual about those around you, report it immediately...”
Dark alleys... slums... foul things...
In her hazy state, Celia seemed to catch some familiar words.
“Additionally, traces of black flames have recently been discovered in the black market. If you see them anywhere, do not stare, do not approach, and stay alert to all potential dangers. Furthermore, if you spot a black-haired, black-eyed young girl anywhere, please report it immediately. Professionals will be dispatched to handle it...”
Black flames, black-haired young girl...
Celia finally realized something was wrong. She sprang up abruptly, her light pink hair scattering into a messy tangle from her sudden movement.
Opening her eyes, her vision was a blur at first, then the altar gradually became clear. As her pupils focused, her thoughts began to race.
This made her suddenly realize one thing...
The black-haired girl mentioned in the sermon... couldn't possibly be my clone, could it...?
The appearance and abilities certainly matched...
What's going on? My clone is already a wanted criminal?!
Suddenly, the image of the bishop reminding her of the sermon flashed in her mind, along with his preoccupied expression.
A somewhat absurd guess surged up.
He couldn't have discovered me too, right...?
That shouldn't be possible. My actions should have been well-hidden; there's no way I'd be discovered...
But after this flurry of wild thoughts, Celia could no longer sleep. She stood up somewhat unsteadily, her legs slightly numb from kneeling for so long.
She hastily grabbed a nearby pillar to barely steady herself.
Tap, tap, tap...
Just then, a somewhat heavy sound of footsteps echoed, gradually approaching Celia.
Celia turned her head. Bishop Samuel had finished his sermon and walked in from a side door. His gaze was somewhat heavy, and his expression had grown solemn.
For some reason, a faint sense of unease rose in Celia's heart, and her hand holding the pillar tightened unconsciously.
Stopping just three paces away from her, the bishop stood still. He looked at Celia with a complex expression, as if hesitating or weighing his options.
After a moment, he spoke in a deep voice:
“Saintess Celia.”
“The envoy from the Northern Territory wishes to see you.”
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