Chapter 3 Chapter 1 Summoning

"Saryon..." The Catalyst Saint drifts between trance and the most lucid nightmare of his life. "Your Excellency, forgive me!" he raves excitedly. "Let me go back to the monastery! Lift me from this terrible burden, I can't stand it!" Saryon trembled on the rough bed, covering his closed eyes with his hands, as if he could erase the hideous scene from his eyes.But sleep only intensifies and deepens those scenes, bringing deeper fears. "Murderer!" he shouted. "I became a murderer! More than once! Oh, more than once, Your Excellency! Twice. Two people died because of me!"

"Saryon!" The voice repeated the name of the catalyst saint, slightly angry. The catalyst saint huddled up and buried his hands in his eyes. "Let me confess to you, Monsignor!" he cried. "Whatever you want to do with me, I deserve what I deserve, I ask for punishment! Then I can no longer see their faces, their eyes... haunt me!" Saryon sat on the bed, half asleep.He hadn't fallen asleep for several days, and the physical exhaustion and mental excitement broke his will for a while.He didn't realize where he was, and he didn't notice why the voice he knew was hundreds of miles away was so clear. "In the beginning, a young man in our order." The catalyst saint continued upside down. "Killed by the sorcerer with the life force I gave, that poor catalyst saint didn't even have a chance to resist. Now the sorcerer is dead too! He lay helpless in front of me, being overwhelmed by my ability Drained! Joram—” The Catalyst Saint's voice fell to a soft whisper. "Joran..."

"Saryon!" the shout was stern and urgent, in an orderly tone that finally woke the Catalyst Saint from his incoherent babble. "What's the matter?" Saryon shrank in his wet robe, trembling and looking around.He was not in the monastery of the Holy Mountain, he was in a cold prison, and death surrounded him.It was surrounded by walls of brick—blocks made by human hands, not shaped by magic.There are still tool marks on the ceiling made of wooden beams above the head, and the cold metal fence is cast by dark craftsmanship, which itself is like a barrier that isolates life.

But with just one glance, he knew that the young man was not in the cell and that his bed had been unoccupied. "Of course not." Saryon said to himself with a shiver.Joram was in the wilderness, burying corpses...but who was that voice he heard so clearly? The catalyst saint buried his head in his trembling hands. "Take my life, Emin!" he prayed devoutly. "If you do exist, take my life and end this torture, this pain, I'm going mad—" "Saryon! Even if you want to hide, you can't hide from me! You must obey me! You have no choice!" The Catalyst Saint raised his head, his eyes widened. A chill was more piercing than the harshest winter gale, making him tremble all over. "Your Excellency the bishop?" He asked with trembling lips, stood up suddenly, and looked around in the small prison. "My lord? Where are you? I can't see you, but I can hear you—I don't understand..."

"I am in your heart, Saryon," said the voice. "I speak to you from the Holy Mountain. It does not matter to you how I do it, Father, I am very powerful. Are you alone now?" "Yes—yes, Your Excellency, now, but I—" "Wake up, Saryon!" The voice showed impatience again. "Your thoughts are in such a mess that I can't see clearly! You don't have to talk, just think about what you have to say and I can hear it. I'll give you some time to pray and get your composure back and hopefully you'll be ready to talk later .” Words fell silent.Saryon could still feel the sound in his head, like a bug buzzing.He quickly calmed himself down, but he didn't pray.Though he'd begged Emin to take his life before -- though he had made that desperate plea with all sincerity -- he still felt the urgency of a survival instinct welling up inside him.The fact that Bishop Vanya had been able to intrude into his mind as he had just done filled him with rage—even though he knew it was inappropriate.He thinks he should be proud of being a humble catalyst saint, a noble bishop who spends time studying his own worthless thoughts; but deep down, in the same dark place that caused his nightmares , a voice asked calmly: How much does he know?How can I avoid him?

"Your Excellency the Bishop." Saryon said hesitantly, turning around in the dark cell, staring at the surroundings with fear, as if the bishop would come out of the brick wall at any moment. "I... find it difficult to sort out my... thoughts, my personality that likes to get to the bottom of it—" "Has this inquisitive personality lead you to a dark path?" the bishop asked unhappily. "Exactly, Your Excellency." Saryon replied humbly. "I admit this is my weakness, but if I don't know the way and purpose of our communication, it will hinder my conversation with you, and I—"

"Your thoughts are in a mess! This appearance is not conducive to communication, okay," Bishop Vanya's voice echoed in Saryon's mind, sounding a little angry, but there was nothing he could do about it. "It's necessary, Father. As the spiritual leader of the people, I must keep in touch with the ends of the world. You know, there are always people who try to weaken our Order, down to its ancient status—like Animals are as humble as serving their masters. Because of this threat, it is necessary for me to communicate with other people, with people of the Order and those who assist in defending the Order, and this communication must be based on keeping secrets."

"Yes, Your Excellency." Saryon whispered nervously.The night outside the prison window was thinning, approaching the gray hour of dawn.He could hear scattered footsteps in the street—people who worked at sunrise.But from another perspective, the village is still sleeping.Where is Joram?Has he been arrested and the body has been found?The catalyst saint clasped his hands, trying to concentrate on what the bishop had to say. "Saryon, there is a secret room designed and built with magical powers to meet the needs of the bishop of the kingdom, so that he can privately help followers who need his support. It is called the room of prudence, and certain sensitive tasks cannot be given to most people. The Prudence Room is especially effective when communicating with these mission performers..."

An intelligence network!Saryon couldn't help thinking so.The Church, to which he had devoted his life, was in fact no different from a giant spider.It sits in the center of a huge net, not letting go of the slightest disturbance, and tightly controlling everything that falls within.The thought was so terrible that Saryon immediately tried to dismiss it. Although his body was still shaking, he started to sweat.He crouched, waiting for the bishop to see his thoughts, and then scolded him.But Vanya continued to talk as if he didn't hear it, explaining the origin and operation of the Prudential Room, and how to enable someone to speak to another person through magical means.

Saryon clenched his jaw so hard that his jaw muscles ached, and he fell into thought. "The Bishop doesn't notice my ramblings!" he thought. "Maybe, as he said, I'll have to give myself my full attention so he can hear. If that's the case—if I can control my thoughts—I might be able to handle the mental intrusion." As soon as Saryon noticed this, he found he was hearing only the thoughts Vanya wanted him to hear, and he couldn't penetrate the barrier the Bishop himself had built.Slowly Saryon began to relax as he waited for his superior to finish speaking.

"I understand, Your Excellency." The catalyst saint thought, focusing all his attention on every word he said. "Very good, Father." Van Ya seemed very happy.After a moment of silence, the bishop considered carefully, concentrating on his next words; but when he began to speak, or rather his thoughts took shape in Saryon's mind, those thoughts were swift and concise, as if echoing long ago The following words. "I have sent you on a dangerous mission, Saryon—sent you to try to understand that young man in Joram. In view of the dangers of this mission, after receiving no report from you, I am worried about you. Increasingly. So I thought it best to get in touch with a reliable source who was connected to you—” "Sinkin!" Saryon couldn't help thinking.His impression of the young man was so deep that it must have reached the bishop. "What?" Fan Ya's words were interrupted midway, and he sounded a little confused. "It's nothing." Saryon whispered quickly. "I'm sorry, Your Excellency, my thoughts have been disturbed, I was... disturbed by something happening outside..." "I advise you to leave the window, Father," said the Bishop stiffly. "Yes, Your Excellency," Saryon replied, digging his nails into his palm, trying to use the pain to keep him focused. There was another few seconds of silence—was Van Ya thinking about what he had said?Why didn't he just write it down?Saryon guessed impatiently, feeling the bishop's thoughts had been taken from him.Then the voice came back, and this time it was full of concern. "As I said earlier, I was worried about you, Father. Now that the informant sent to protect you has not contacted me for forty-eight hours, I am getting more and more worried. I hope there is nothing wrong, Saryon ,Right?" How should Saryon respond?That his world has been turned upside down?That he hangs from the precipice of reason only by his fingertips?Said that he was praying to die just a moment ago?Catalyst Saints are hard to decide.He could confess everything, tell the Bishop that he knew the truth about Joram, ask His Excellency's forgiveness, and, as he was ordered, proceed to transport the boy, and all would be over in a moment, and his tormented soul would Restoring peace. Outside the cell, last night's storm was exhausted, but it was still slapping the wall in vain, trying to break into the wall.Saryon heard the words on the wind, the words he had heard seventeen years ago—the Bishop of Vanya had sentenced a child to death. "Father!" Van Ya's voice was tense and cold, like the echo of memory. "You're lost again!" "I—please rest assured that I am fine, Your Excellency," Saryon stammered. "You don't have to care about me." "I thank Emin for this, Father." Vanya said this in exactly the same tone as when he usually thanked Emin for giving him eggs and bread for breakfast.Then he was silent again.Saryon sensed some inner turmoil, some psychological struggle.The bishop's next words were grudging: "It's time, priest, you should get in touch with your... er... guard - my informant - I learned that the dark sword has been forged ..." Saryon gasped. "...We can't delay any longer now, this young man is too dangerous for us." Van Ya's voice became colder and more ruthless. "You must take Joran to the Holy Mountain as soon as possible, and you will need the assistance of my informant. Go to Heisuo and inform him that I—" "Black lock!" Saryon sat down on the bed, his heart beating as loudly as Joram's when he struck iron. "Is it your informant?" The Catalyst Saint propped his forehead with trembling hands. "Your Excellency, what you are talking about is definitely not a black lock!" "Relax, Father—" "He's a traitor, an outcast Dukes! He—" "Banished? He is no different from your banished priest, Saryon! He is still a member of Duke Sisi, a high-ranking member of their order, handpicked for this sensitive mission. members, just like you." Saryon clasped his head in his hands, as if he could actually keep the turbulent thoughts from churning in his head.Black Lock, the ruthless, murderous sorcerer, is Dukexis, a member of the secret society whose duty it is to enforce the law in Simhallen.He's an agent of the church!He is also responsible for the cold-blooded murders, for raiding the village and looting, for starving the villagers in the winter... "Your Excellency." Saryon licked his chapped lips. "This sorcerer was... a wicked man! A vicious man! He—I saw him kill a young deacon of our order in a village called—" The bishop interrupted him. "Haven't you heard that old saying? 'He who walks in the light sees no shadow of the night'? Let us not be too hasty in passing judgment on others, Father. If you calmly recall the accident you speak of, It will definitely be found out that it was due to helplessness, or it was just an accident." Saryon had seen sorcerers shouting in the wind, he had seen a gust of wind pick up the unsuspecting deacon and hurl him like a leaf against a house wall, he had seen the young body fall lifelessly to the ground. "Your Excellency." Saryon trembled and ventured to speak. "Enough, Father!" snapped the bishop. "I don't have time to listen to your high-pitched complaints. Heizuo did what he had to do to maintain the disguise of the witchcraft traitor. He is doing dangerous work among the witchcraft craftsmen who master the dark crafts. These people are by your side, Saryon. After all, it's only one life compared to thousands of lives or tens of thousands of souls, and that's up to him." "I can't understand—" "Then give me a chance to explain! I tell you with the utmost confidence, Father. I have told you that your task is to solve the troubles that the northern kingdom of Saraken has caused us. The situation is going from bad to worse. The catalyst saints of the regiment law are constantly increasing, and they pass their life force at will to anyone who asks. Because of this, King Saraken thought he could deal with us with impunity, and he seized the funds of the church for He has, he exiled the cardinal, and replaced him with apostate catalyst saints. He intends to invade and conquer Merilon, so he joins hands with the demon artisans and asks them to provide him with evil weapons..." "Yes, Your Excellency the Bishop." Saryon responded in a low voice, listening half-absently while trying to figure out what to do. "The king of Saraken plans to use the weapons of the demon artisans to help him wage war. Although on the surface, the black lock seems to be fueling Saraken's ambitions and helping the demon artisans. In fact, he is preparing to lead them into a deadly trap , so that we can defeat the Saraken, smash the Demon Artisans, and finally eradicate them from this world. The Black Lock has everything under control, at least until this young man—that Joram—discovers the Dark Stone. Controlled everything." Vanya became more and more annoyed, and his thoughts gradually became disorganized, and Saryon could no longer keep up.Sensing the change, Vanya fell into an angry silence, trying to regain control of the conversation.Then he resumed his conversation with Saryon, calming down a little. "The discovery of the Dark Stone is a disaster, Father! You must have seen it? It can give Saraken the power to win! That's why I ordered that you and the black lock must immediately bring the young man and him to The deadly power of this world must be sent back to the Holy Mountain before Saraken finds out about it." Saryon started to get a headache because of nervousness. Fortunately, his own thoughts were too chaotic, and what he sent must be just some chaotic fragments: The Black Lock is a double agent... The Dark Stone will threaten the world... The Demon Craftsman is walking into the world. trap…… Joram... Joram... Joram... Saryon calmed down, and now he knew what he had to do.Nothing else matters, wars between two nations, thousands of lives, these concepts are too big to comprehend; but what about individual lives? Knowing what kind of disaster he will face, how can I take him back?I do know now what the catastrophe was.Saryon admits reality to himself.I didn't see it before, just because I closed my eyes on purpose. The Catalyst Saint raised his head, staring intently into the depths of the darkness. "Your Excellency the Bishop," he said aloud, interrupting the bishop's eloquence. "I know who Joram is." Van Ya fell silent suddenly.Saryon felt doubt, caution, and fear, but they were almost fleeting.Simharun's bishop is nearly eighty years old and has been on the throne for more than forty years.He is very skillful in his work. "What do you mean?" The bishop's thought was really puzzled. "Do you know who he is? Isn't he Joran, the son of madwoman Anya..." Saryon found himself gathering courage.Finally, he was finally able to face the truth. "Joran, he is..." the catalyst saint whispered. "Son of Emperor Merilon."