Prayer and Observation

Inside Saint Hillan Cathedral, the prayer hall remained quiet despite the constant stream of people coming and going.

House reached up to adjust his bowler hat, followed the crowd to the front of the hall, and took a seat before the Triangular Sacred Emblem—a construct of gears, levers, and steam—to offer a calm prayer.

Once finished, he left a small offering at the donation box in front before walking against the flow of the crowd toward the back of the prayer hall.

Passing through a corridor adorned with murals as intricate as machinery, he stepped toward the stairs leading underground.

He could no longer suppress the urge to see that Great Existence; to him, every day and every minute now felt like torture.

But before he could meet the Great Existence, he had to prepare a gift of sufficient weight—a gift that would demonstrate his faith and devotion.

He had pondered this for a long time, and finally, he realized there was no better gift than a Sealed Artifact from the cathedral's depths.

Although his preparations were not yet complete, he could wait no longer.

Descending the long staircase to the depths of Saint Hillan Cathedral, he arrived before a half-open door and raised his hand to knock.

Knock, knock.

"Come in," a resonant, full-bodied voice called from within.

House adjusted his bowler hat and pushed the door open to enter the room.

To earn this opportunity to enter the depths of Saint Hillan Cathedral, he had applied to the Church for the chance to advance to Brawler Scholar.

The moment he had seen the Great Existence, with His help, he had fully mastered the Mystery Pryer potion on the spot, and combined with his previously accumulated merits, he had successfully secured this promotion.

Inside the room, a man with stubborn, fluffy hair looked House up and down before asking sternly:

"Although your application has been approved, I must ask one more time: are you certain you wish to advance?"

"Your body is no longer young; for someone like you, advancement is a dangerous undertaking."

House nodded with a firm expression: "But my faith is firm enough. I believe the God will protect me."

Seeing this, the man with the stubborn hairstyle stopped trying to persuade him and nodded with great seriousness:

"Very well. You have requested the Brawler Scholar potion, so wait a moment. I will bring the prepared potion over shortly."

"During this time, you may meditate to adjust your state, striving to consume the potion in your best condition."

With that, the man left the room, closing the door behind him.

House let out a soft breath, then turned, intending to step out and observe the layout of the area.

Just as he took a step, the lights in the room suddenly dimmed, cold winds swirled, and it felt as if invisible eyes were watching from every direction.

House's first reaction was that a Sealed Artifact had lost control; his second was that his opportunity had arrived.

Before he could act, the tea left on the table by the man with the stubborn hair began to ripple. Under House's shocked and wary gaze, words in silver-white Loen characters emerged on the surface of the tea:

"Foolish fellow, I come to convey the oracle of that Sublime Existence:

Abandon your stupid ideas, do not do anything unnecessary, and do not cause needless trouble for this perfect identity He has."

"You are truly the most foolish Mystery Pryer I have ever seen. Did the Hidden Sage fry your brain when He poured knowledge into you?"

"A mere Sequence 9 daring to target the headquarters of the Church of Steam in Backlund..."

House watched the words appear and vanish on the tea, his face cycling between pale and flushed.

He stood in silence for several seconds before slowly muttering:

"Why should I believe you?"

On the rippling surface of the tea, new words emerged:

"What a truly foolish Mystery Pryer..."

"The honorific name of that Sublime Existence is:

The Sublime from the Unknown;

The Gateway Above Dimensions;

The Incarnation of Art and Fantasy."

"You may seek verification from that Sublime Existence yourself, but whether you are rejected or punished in the end is your own affair."

As the final word appeared, the anomaly in the teacup vanished, and the lights in the room returned to their brightness.

Everything was unchanged, as if nothing had happened, save for House, who stood frozen in place.

His intuition as a Mystery Pryer told him that the honorific name provided by the mysterious entity who had contacted him through the tea was genuine.

What he cared about now was whether his plan was truly foolish and redundant, and whether it would bring unnecessary trouble to that Great Existence.

"I..."

He opened his mouth, then closed it, hesitating repeatedly before finally deciding to repent for his error:

"The Sublime from the Unknown, the Gateway Above Dimensions, the Incarnation of Art and Fantasy."

"Your devout believer prays for your understanding and forgiveness..."

At the same time, in the World in the Painting, where he was entangled with Zoila, Cyril heard the sound of vague, overlapping prayers echoing in his ears.

"Your devout believer prays for your understanding and forgiveness..."

"Great God, I have realized my mistake..."

The prayers echoing in his ears made Cyril feel as if his spirit were on the verge of detaching from his physical body; it seemed that with just a single thought, he could depart from this World in the Painting in the form of a spiritual entity.

Is it only possible to escape as a spirit?

Cyril couldn't help but frown. Once his spirit and body separated, he would no longer be able to control his physical form, and he had no doubt that Zoila, who was currently chasing him, would slice him to pieces the moment that happened.

However, the prayers echoing in his ears did not vanish because of his will; instead, they grew clearer as time passed, causing his spirit to rise uncontrollably, already beginning to pull away from his body.

"Damn it, stop the fucking chanting!" Cyril couldn't help but roar in fury.

Then, the entire World in the Painting suddenly fell silent, a deathly stillness.

Cyril was stunned for a moment, then seemed to realize something. He turned to look at Zoila, who was swinging her blade at him from behind, and raised his hand to swipe gently through the air.

Whoosh!

A solid earthen wall materialized silently between the two of them.

Seeing this, Cyril instantly understood that his control over this World in the Painting had surpassed that of the painting's original owner. Unless his opponent possessed the ability to directly destroy the World in the Painting, he would no longer be in any danger.

Thus, he began to yield to the invisible pull, allowing his spirit to detach from his body.

As the shackles of his body vanished, Cyril discovered that his field of vision was rising infinitely. The world in his eyes underwent a heaven-shaking transformation; he saw dots, lines, and sheets of "paper" that possessed neither thickness nor edges...

Both time and space now had concrete, tangible shapes in his eyes.

As his spirit rose, he once again saw that shadow at an infinite height, overlooking all things.

No, this time it was no longer an infinite height. Although it still appeared incredibly distant, he felt that he could reach out and touch it now.

However, doing so was extremely dangerous, as it would mean choosing to face the High-Dimensional Overseer directly.

He merely glanced upward briefly before withdrawing his gaze; since the barrier left behind by the Primordial stood between them, he chose to ignore the entity.

He then looked down, found the World in the Painting where his body resided among the countless dots, lines, and planes, and reached out to push it away from the gaze of the High-Dimensional Overseer.

During that brief confrontation just now, he had managed to glean some useful information from the High-Dimensional Overseer.

As a symbol and master of dimensions, the observation of the High-Dimensional Overseer caused direct and critical changes to the subsequent development and final outcome of the observed subject.

This was the nature of higher dimensions, much like a person observing the quantum microscopic world: when I look, the flower blooms brilliantly; when I do not, the flower and the heart are silent together.

Therefore, to break free from the destiny fixed by the observation of the High-Dimensional Overseer, one must first escape the High-Dimensional Overseer's line of sight, and then use one's own status to correct it.

Although he lacked the corresponding power, with the premise of a tangible status, he could rely on the close connection between his spirit and body to perform "observation" to a limited extent.

Noticing that the shadow above his head was moving as he moved, Cyril decisively stopped pushing the World in the Painting.

Looking at the patch of color held in his hand, he whispered softly, "Adam, I need some help."

"The price I can pay is some information regarding the Old Ones from the starry sky; it involves His authority and symbols."

"Very well."

A gentle voice emanated from his chest, sounding as if it had resonated within his heart.