Pope

"Stop!" The goddess finally spoke, unable to bear it any longer. "You copied too much!"

"Cough, cough!" Truman coughed lightly and closed the Apocalypse of the Night. "When it comes to preaching, who can compare to that one? This is the most suitable path."

"I am not yet a deity, and this is not my path." The goddess said meaningfully, clearly refusing. This was far too embarrassing.

"Oh, well, someone else would copy it anyway, so I might as well be the one." Truman muttered, his mood growing excited.

"Soon you will be a deity." Truman said.

"Hm?" The goddess had already gained a profound understanding of this collaborator's uncanny and mysterious nature.

"The Destruction Demon Wolf is about to die!" The words struck like a thunderbolt, and even the goddess's expression shifted.

Truman had learned the current state of the world from his conversations with the goddess. She had descended into this era at an unknown time and was very cautious, revealing nothing.

But the eight Ancient Gods—the Giant King Almir, the Destruction Demon Wolf Flegrea, the King of Exotic Species Vathun, and the others—had not yet perished and were still locked in conflict.

"Madmen will eventually be swept into the grave of history. Why shouldn't we give them a push? This is the tide of history." Those Ancient Gods were indeed powerful, but they were too insane, beyond redemption.

"How do you know these things?" The goddess stared intently at Truman, starlight scattering around her, clearly unsettled.

Truman had been here less than two months and hadn't even stepped outside the City of Darkness—how could he know anything about the tide of history?!

"I have heard the prayers of all living beings, and your will." Truman immediately slipped into the role of the Pope.

"Is this the source of the Book of Dreams' power?" The goddess ignored the latter half of his words, lost in thought.

Truman's face darkened. The goddess's identity before her crossing had been no simple matter, and her instincts were razor-sharp—even more so now.

"Fine." The goddess didn't press further but nodded lightly, accepting Truman's identity as Pope. The two had already built a foundation of trust, making many subsequent matters easier.

This City of Darkness was sheltered by the goddess's hidden protection, and everyone within it was her follower.

But beyond this city lay an extremely bloody and primitive world.

Beyonder Creatures that consumed any trait they could find until they went mad, supernatural races that viewed humans as food—for ordinary humans, this was a world on hellish difficulty.

The City of Darkness was definitely an exception. Even the city-states sheltered by the Ancient Gods could not escape various horrors, for this was an age of madness, and the Ancient Gods themselves were unreliable.

From this perspective, this era truly needed to end.

"Now, my Pope, what do you intend to do?" The goddess's gaze fell upon Truman, serious and cautious.

"Do what I must..."

Before long, Truman, holding the only copy of the Apocalypse of the Night in the world, ascended to the peak of the Deep Dark Citadel and raised the sacred scripture high.

"The goddess above shall grant us peace and deep slumber."

"Praise the goddess!" All the followers sheltered by the goddess knew they were fortunate.

Living in this City of Darkness, they didn't have to constantly be on guard against maddened monsters or fear being captured as food by supernatural races—all of this was the goddess's gift!

Hmm!

A profound power rippled like water's surface, sweeping over all the followers of the City of Darkness. Night Fragrance Herbs and Deep Sleep Flowers emitted faint glimmers, and an unprecedented tranquility soothed every soul.

"Praise the goddess!" All the followers could not help but praise the goddess.

It was at this moment that every follower sensed something and looked up at the figure standing beneath the goddess's statue.

He was glowing. His linen robe shimmered with a dark luster, and the Badge of Divinity pinned to his left chest radiated a calming power.

"By the goddess's oracle, I am the Pope of the City of Darkness. You may address me as His Holiness the Pope."

Brilliant starlight fell from the goddess's statue, coalescing into what seemed to be a Crown of Starry Sky, which settled upon Truman's head.

The people of this era were terrifyingly pure, and the miracle just witnessed had shaken every soul.

"Praise the goddess! Hail the Pope!" Similar praises grew louder and more unified. Suddenly, Truman felt a mysterious connection forming between himself and these followers.

At that moment, all the followers understood the meaning of the Pope—the deity's representative, who would manage the faithful in the goddess's stead and become their "father" in faith!

"Faith and anchors?" Truman pondered the mysterious connection. In his perception, pure points of light in various colors were gathering, gradually forming a slowly flowing miniature galaxy.

"Just as I thought." Truman gazed at the points of light before him with delighted surprise. "A deity needs anchors to maintain their humanity, but I need these Anchors of Divinity to leverage my Book of Dreams!"

Originally, the power he could draw from the Book of Dreams was negligible, but with these Anchors of Divinity, he could now leverage far greater strength.

"I must ensure the faithful hold enough trust, respect, and even reverence for me." Truman had taken a clever shortcut this time.

By becoming the Pope, he could directly connect with the followers of the City of Darkness and inherit the faithful the goddess had accumulated over the years.

Stealing the goddess's harvest?

"Praise the goddess!" Truman said this with absolute sincerity.

And at that moment, the Book of Dreams, disguised as the Apocalypse of the Night, trembled slightly. Dream Phosphor scattered from it, drifting onto the followers and merging into them.

Tonight, the City of Darkness could also be called the City of Dreams. In their dreams, these followers would obtain what they most desired, healing the deepest wounds in their hearts.

But the greatest benefit was that the pollution that had inevitably accumulated in their daily lives was completely calmed, their mental states reaching their fullest vitality.

"May you and I see our beautiful dreams come true!" The Purifier, Saint Truman, spoke thus.

The next day, having not slept all night, a clear-headed Truman led thousands upon thousands of followers in prayer.

"Thank the goddess for granting us food!"

Truman's goal was to ensure that this city-state—and eventually one of the orthodox churches of the gods—would forever remember his name. This began in every aspect of daily life, the most important of which was naturally "eating."

The Goddess had indeed been exceedingly kind to this City of Darkness. A Stone of Abundance, equivalent to a Sequence 4 Saint of later eras, was placed at the foot of Her divine statue, its radiance encompassing the entire city. Fruits, milk, and other foods were countless within its bounds.

A city-state like this could already be called a Heaven in this age.

After that, Truman made various moves to truly make the faithful feel the presence of God in their daily lives. He established a somewhat elaborate prayer ritual and, in the name of the Pope, had it inscribed into the Apocalypse of the Night.

At the same time, he transplanted things that originally appeared in the true Apocalypse of the Night of later ages, rewriting them to suit the era.

"The Creator awoke from chaos, broke the darkness, and made the first light..."

"In the Second Epoch, the Goddess awoke from the darkness and shall ultimately reclaim the authority that was usurped..."

"Praise the Goddess!"

Essentially, the framework of the Apocalypse of the Night had been set by Truman. All future Popes could only patch and mend it.

He even offered a copy to the Goddess herself, though he wondered if She would feel awkward reading it...

One day, Truman dutifully led all the faithful in prayer, having already established a simplified Mass ritual. This alone was enough to ensure that his title, Saint Truman, would be passed down through history as the City of Darkness grew and evolved.

"The Goddess is summoning me." Not long after, Saint Truman, who had essentially laid the foundation for the future Church of Night, vanished, leaving only those words behind.

Truman hadn't deceived these innocent lambs—the Goddess truly was looking for him!

The Goddess had finally been moved. Or, more likely, She had already been planning something, and Truman's appearance simply provided Her with a better option.

After all, She was a Subordinate God of the Destruction Demon Wolf. Her power of concealment was completely suppressed by the Demon Wolf, making many things inconvenient for Her.

"...I entrust this to you." The Goddess's gentle voice sounded from beneath the statue.

Two items materialized before Truman through reverse concealment, gradually becoming solid.

A glove and a dark robe.

"The Gloves of the Ancient can summon the me from the Fog of History and allow you to travel anywhere in the world."

"The Robe of the Sage, the master of knowledge, can also transform you into an Information Being."

"This is what the Pope deserves."

"Hiss!" Truman's eyes lit up as he took both items in hand. "A fusion of the Traveler and the Scholar of Yore, plus the knowledge of the Sage!"

Hiss! How did the Scholar of Yore get mixed up with the Traveler?

Well... alright, in this era where anything goes, it wasn't entirely incomprehensible.

And the Robe of the Sage was a fine treasure too!

Having come to this world with the Book of Dreams, Truman had enough to protect himself. But when it came to combat power, it was far too unstable. With these two items added, as long as he didn't provoke the Subordinate Gods or Ancient Gods, he could go anywhere in the world!

As someone called the Purifier, he was immune to corruption, so naturally he didn't need to worry about any side effects.

"I will not fail your trust!" Truman said solemnly. In the time that followed, he kept adapting to the two Mystical Items. His spirituality was supplied by the Book of Dreams, seemingly endless, and he didn't need to worry about negative effects. He could even freely use their abilities.

"I can't drink potions anymore. Could it be that I'm meant to become the greatest collector?"

Imagining facing an enemy by pulling out countless Mystical Items and crushing them, Truman raised an eyebrow slightly. "Doesn't seem bad."

"But it's not a long-term solution either..."

Truman toyed with the two items, staring at the Book of Dreams in deep thought.

A few days later, fully prepared, Truman stood beneath the Goddess's statue.

Scattered, brilliant starlight fell as the Goddess sent him out of the City of Darkness.

Truman appeared in a vast, endless primeval forest that stretched to the horizon.

He was now wearing the Robe of the Sage, a dark robe adorned with twinkling starlight. In one hand, he held the Book of Dreams disguised as the Apocalypse of the Night; in the other, he wore the Gloves of the Ancient, etched with hidden and eerie patterns.

His short black hair was sufficiently flowing, and the intrinsic aura of the Purifier was especially striking. His face was fair, his eyes bright, and on the level of Spirit Vision, Angel Wings were present—a true angel descending.

In short, his appearance was excellent, inspiring goodwill and an irresistible urge to draw near.

Not a new author, but a new book—I humbly ask for your support!