Seeing the calculating glint in the boy’s eyes, Elliot smiled even more broadly. He really was a Faithless; his thought process was entirely different from common folk.
He reached out and picked up a bright green seed resting on the red velvet, waving it in front of Wang Yue.
“Do you know what this is?”
“Just spit it out.”
“This is an ancient relic used to switch genders: the Seed of the Inverse Link. Throughout the long river of history, fewer than five of these have ever appeared. Its value is beyond words—a treasure sought by countless souls.”
Then, Elliot shared a secret of the Church.
The Church mandated that high-ranking clergy must remain celibate. To curb male instincts, certain Cardinals had resolutely castrated themselves.
Eunuchs were, of course, purer than men, and other Bishops began to follow suit.
Seeing that the College of Cardinals was turning into a literal harem of eunuchs, the Church hurried to add a new regulation: for the sake of fairness, castrated men could not become Pope.
Every time the College elected a Pope, the candidate had to sit on a chair with a hole in it. The Cardinals would then take turns reaching up from underneath to verify that the Pope’s testicles were still intact.
“What do the Pope’s balls have to do with the Seed of the Inverse Link?” Wang Yue couldn’t fathom it.
“The Pope must have balls. A woman cannot be Pope. For me, this ancient relic can eliminate a competitor.”
“You want to poison someone?!”
“I have no such plans for now. I am third in the line of succession within the College. The fourth and fifth are no weaker than I am. Even if I took down the one at the top, I wouldn’t have the public support to become the next Pope. Jeremy Phillips, the first in line, is far too formidable. To surpass him in reputation and strength, one would need to achieve an ‘Eternal Merit.'”
“And what does this ‘Eternal Merit’ have to do with me and that seed?”
“Good. I like smart people.”
Elliot explained slowly:
“In the north, there is a land of perpetual night where the sun never shines. It is inhabited by the children of demons—greedy, wrathful, and violent. Their women even offer themselves to demons, coupling with them to gain extraordinary power. These women are what the world calls ‘witches.'”
“You want me to change my gender, become a witch, and go to the Evernight Realm to help you achieve this Eternal Merit?”
“Exactly!”
“Why don’t you go yourself? Wouldn’t the glory be even greater? …Ah, because I’m a Faithless. I can change my beliefs easily?”
“You will surely become the finest spy—a holy nail driven into the heart of the Devil. Cold, lethal, and making him howl in pain.”
“I refuse!”
“Go, or die.”
“I’ll go!”
Wang Yue changed his tune instantly. Dying was out of the question. Once you were dead, you were gone.
Elliot smiled with satisfaction but did not hand over the Seed of the Inverse Link. Instead, he put it back and reached for another item.
It was a grayish-black tuber, shaped like a small person with limbs and long, root-like whiskers.
He held up the tuber and recited:
“There are three types of transcendent power in this world. First is that of the race itself—humans have wisdom, beasts have teeth, birds have wings, and Cthulhu has tentacles. Second is that bestowed by ‘Them’—using faith as a medium, power is poured from above into the believer, making them an agent on earth. Third is the core of rules nurtured by nature, known as ‘Mystic Arts.’ Once absorbed, one gains the authority to alter natural laws within a certain range. The tuber in my hand is one of them, recorded in the Dead Sea Scrolls as Mystic Art No. 055: ‘Puppet’.”
“Elliot, are you really going to give ‘Puppet’ to him? This is a high-tier Mystic Art, even more precious than the Seed of the Inverse Link!” Richel couldn’t help but interject. Her face was tense, her eyes filled with shock.
“Compared to the papacy, these things are trivial,” Elliot waved her off. “Once you possess ‘Puppet,’ your actions will no longer depend on nerves, muscles, bones, or tendons. Even if every bone in your body is broken, your spine shattered, your skull cracked open, and your brains spilled everywhere, your remains can still function according to your will for a significant amount of time.”
Wang Yue had no choice. If he wanted to live, he had to follow the Bishop’s instructions. He took the tuber and bit into it forcefully, swallowing the bark, wood scraps, and the juice that tasted of heavy, wet earth.
The thing seemed alive, writhing violently in his mouth. It made his teeth ache, and the unbreakable roots squirmed in his throat like he was swallowing a live octopus!
His mind grew anxious and sensitive. Indescribable dark shadows appeared before his eyes—some crawling slowly, some flashing by. A continuous buzzing filled his ears, sounding like the whispers of ghosts…
Once he finished eating, the strange phenomena abruptly stopped. He glanced at his palms and looked down at his body; nothing seemed to have changed. Just as he was wondering, Richel suddenly reached out. Her hand clamped onto his wrist like an iron vise and twisted it against the joint!
Wang Yue screamed as his forearm dislocated at the elbow, snapping back at an angle that defied human anatomy!
He stumbled to his knees, hissing through his teeth, a layer of cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.
“Don’t let common sense bind your thinking. Try to restore it,” Richel said through gritted teeth, her voice thick with unconcealed hatred.
Mystic Art No. 055, ‘Puppet,’ was in the top three of the arts she desired. She hadn’t expected it to be wasted on this country bumpkin. What a loss. However, once a Faithless was exposed, they were destined for a miserable end. Hmph, this man is as good as dead.
How the identity of the fifth Pope’s undercover agent had been exposed remained a mystery to this day. Some speculated that the Goddess of the Sylvan Hunt had simply used him and then discarded him like a date pit.
Wang Yue knew nothing of these secrets. He was like an ant struggling desperately under the giant wheel of fate, searching for the traces of the rules amidst the agonizing pain.
His consciousness was like a snail’s feeler, slowly extending from his elbow to his fingertips, suppressing the muscle spasms. He flexed and straightened. His control grew stronger and stronger until suddenly, with a sharp crack, his dislocated forearm swung back into place!
