While attending the art exhibition, Yu Xing had seen how the painter, who was not particularly good at hiding his emotions, was admired by so many of the town's upper-class residents. He knew then that someone was backing him.
And not just an ordinary investor.
Aiven could never have established himself in those circles through art alone. But if he was also a favored servant of an ancient god, then his current status made sense.
He must have received support from cultists among the upper class. That meant their relationship was not one of patronage, but of cooperation. Bound by their shameful faith and conspiracies, they were like a pack of rats scurrying in the dark, forming a distinctive hierarchy of their own.
Edgar White's notebook not only confirmed Yu Xing's theory that the cultists and the ancient gods were working together, but also explicitly mentioned the existence of the "City of Terror." More importantly, it revealed how to enter that uncanny realm: gaze at the starry sky and willingly accept its corruption.
That meant the investigation into Edgar's disappearance could continue... If they went to the City of Terror, they might find the travel writer himself—or what remained of him.
"Gazing at the starry sky means making contact with that ancient god, right?" Qu Xuanqing frowned slightly. "That sounds like a fine recipe for suicide."
"But it should be the only way. Even the True God Church has no other means of entering an ancient god's domain," Lingren said, lightly tapping his chin with a finger. His tone was unhurried. "Besides, don't we happen to have a suitable 'medium'?"
Starry Sky.
The painting he had bought for a high price and then passed on to Yu Xing fit Edgar's account perfectly. Perhaps if they had the Archbishop study it,