Pressure and a "Miracle"
With everything settled, the host and guest enjoyed a very pleasant conversation.
After some verbal exchanges of benefits were reached, with complex calculations still lingering in his mind, Xia Guangjie put down his wine glass, apologized repeatedly, got up and left the private room, returning to the still lively discussion in the hall outside.
With him gone, the elderly priest who had only come to lend his support naturally didn't linger either.
Instead, this Young Master Wen, made an excuse that he smelled strongly of alcohol and was feeling unwell from the aromatherapy, so he needed to change his clothes and stayed alone in the cubicle for the time being.
Once everyone else in the room had left, he gave a wink to his secretary. The young woman in the pencil skirt understood, quickly placing a freshly ironed dress aside before bowing and leaving as well.
In the spacious, luxurious room, after confirming that there were no more "unauthorized persons" making any noise, Wen Cunyuan clapped his hands. "Master, they've all left. You can come out now."
His words were certainly not unfounded.
Soon, in this pre-arranged private meeting place, a hidden door silently opened on the seemingly intact and smooth wall next to it, and another figure strolled out leisurely.
The one who appeared this time was a middle-aged foreigner with a wrinkled face, much thinner than the previous Father Silas, with downturned lips and a naturally sorrowful look.
As the saying goes, appearance reflects the heart, but contrary to his appearance, this middle-aged man who came out of the secret door sat down on the side and picked up a wine glass without any concern for the wealthy young man from a prominent family in front of him.
On the contrary, this Young Master Wen, who usually acts arrogantly in public, showed no displeasure at being "offended." Instead, he took the initiative to come forward and personally poured him a full glass of wine.
Even his tone was respectful, even subtly obsequious, "Master, you must have heard everything that was said here just now. What do you think of the conditions that Mr. Xia proposed?"
"His mental state is stable, so he must be genuinely considering cooperating with you. As for the specific conditions, I'm not concerned, but you'd better hurry up."
Upon opening his mouth, this clearly foreign-looking man spoke broken Chinese, his impatience evident in his words: "That 'Di' is no ordinary person. I've had contact with him, and he left a deep impression on me—"
"While things are still uncertain, this is your best chance to strike. What should we call this—fishing in troubled waters?"
The guest casually downed most of his glass of wine, exchanged a few words, and appeared unfazed.
However, as his gaze shifted, a heterochromatic double pupil—one gray and one yellowish-brown—occasionally peeked out from the depths of those seemingly normal eyes. To the few who knew the truth, this might have been a rather alarming sign.
Clearly, just like the "Michael" who appeared at the banquet, this figure drinking alone now is...
He is suspected to be a "living puppet" of a Fourth Tier character.
Based on some information received domestically, especially considering certain characteristics of that bald Mr. Michael, it is clear that among the visiting delegations, some individuals who fit the "suspicious criteria" were naturally treated with extra courtesy and caution during their visits.
But there's no such thing as being able to thief for a thousand days without being able to guard against thieves for a thousand days.
Moreover, having sensed the unusual attitude and confirmed that he had further "exposed" himself, how could this possibly faze a Fourth Tier figure venturing into the paths of flesh and the undead?
It's simply a matter of finding more opportunities to shift from the open to the covert.
Moreover, for some well-informed individuals, such a distinguished guest is none other than a person of considerable value.
Putting everything else aside, at least through Young Master Wen somehow managed to bring back a "life essence" for a key figure in his family—a person born before the founding of the People's Republic of China who held considerable influence in both military and political circles. This resulted in the elderly man, who had been bedridden in a private nursing home for years, recently being able to surprisingly remove his ventilator.
Regardless of other factors, the mere existence of the elderly person has an immeasurable actual impact and potential benefit on the family.
Therefore, this real "great achievement," which came from the help of the family and even gave him a bit more "voice," fell into the hands of this young man who was already quite outstanding among his peers in the Wen family.
The family patriarch immediately made the decision, increasing investment in relevant connections and resources, leveraging the favors and capital of the previous generation.
We will let them take whatever they want, as long as we can find a way to delay the old man's condition.
As the saying goes, the blessings of a virtuous person last only three generations.
Putting everything else aside, the mere existence of this white-haired old man is enough to make many people uneasy. Perhaps at some crucial moment, he could step forward and say a few words to some "old friends," and in many special circumstances, the difference would be worlds apart.
Compared to that, what does this kind of investment amount to?
This is precisely why this young and powerful Young Master Wen is now cultivating connections within the Huanjing Association, spending lavishly, and making increasingly frequent moves.
Similarly, he wasn't stupid, and naturally wouldn't offend the key figure in this situation—the "foreign man" sitting in front of him.
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say they could take whatever they wanted.
However, it seems that the other party did not treat him too badly because of this; on the contrary, they kept urging him to handle certain related matters as soon as possible.
After finishing the wine in his glass, the guest put down the crystal glass before the young master could refill it.
"Time is running out. If you can't seize the remaining opportunities, Di probably won't leave much room for others to interfere. I can sense that he's somewhat anxious—"
"After all, this is a race, and nobody knows if someone else has the same idea as him."
Even with eyes closed and savoring the moment, the words that escaped from the throat, still freshly moistened by the wine, remained cold and detached.
"I don't expect you to go to any great lengths. Even just disrupting some of his plans or uncovering some of his secrets would be a reward for me."
When he opened his eyes again, for the first time, a very complex color appeared in those eyes that sometimes showed double pupils.
--There was fear, there was greed, and even a bit of fanaticism that was forcibly suppressed.
"Nothing is settled yet; Di has only taken a few steps ahead. That's precisely why our plans have real room to maneuver."
"Go ahead, go for it, no matter how much you invest! You should understand that as long as the Main God truly intends to help you, even if you only manage to secure a tiny, insignificant position within His vast rules and order, it might be a stepping stone to heaven for you, and for ants like me!"
"Hurry, we absolutely must be faster!"
After giving repeated instructions, the figure got up and walked back into the hidden door, completely ignoring the thoughtful expression on the face of the Young Master Wen behind him.
People aren't fools; they'll naturally believe such inflammatory remarks, but they probably won't believe them entirely either.
Everyone has their own ideas, and everyone gets what they need.
In the end, only heaven knows how many puppet-like "pawns" this Necromancer left behind, and what his considerations were in order to act so discreetly.
But in any case, there's one thing he said that seems to be quite right.
The increasingly vast depths of the cave, through sheer human labor, have been transformed into a site almost entirely in the style of a primitive Temple.
Looking around, the first thing anyone who enters this space inside the mountain can see is a giant natural crystal ball emitting white light on the ceiling.
Under the soft yet radiant natural light, it resembles a small "star" dotting the sky, shining brightly both day and night.
If this scene were to be viewed by many who had previously entered that Azure Platform, it would likely evoke a strong sense of déjà vu.
In contrast, the large number of figures crawling beneath the sphere of light, though numerous, were not particularly eye-catching.
Most of these people wore greyish-white robes and simple wooden badges, chanting in a low, sincere voice, or...
They silently bowed in worship to the "sphere of light" in the sky.
In the distant past, many seemingly magnificent natural phenomena, such as lightning, fire, storms, and even simple ferocious birds and beasts, were imitated by people as totems of primitive tribes, and their characteristics were further integrated into sacrifices, rituals, songs, and dances.
The original essence of faith is a form of idolatry, a vague form that extracts some characteristics of the object of worship, shapes and gives meaning to them, and strives to closely imitate them.
Therefore, for these believers, white is considered a sacred color, and wearing a white robe is considered superior.
Since the Lord appears without a word, silence has become one of the virtues.
This is itself the original, simple form of faith.
Among the crowd, on a stone platform in the distance, knelt a figure dressed in white robes, yet somewhat "outstanding," seemingly attracting attention from all around. As far as the eye could see, everyone looked at him with a mixture of awe and reverence.
The Bearded Man who held the position of high High Priest was also Fourth Tier Vampire Baron, Skander Besavich.
Aside from his exceptionally fine white robe embroidered with circular patterns, the books at his side, and his cane, this most important "big shot" in the area looked no different from the believers below.
--No, actually there are still some.
Along with those kneeling beside him, who seemed to be a head shorter than the High Priest, their faces...
A pale figure stood to the side.
His face, now increasingly pale and gaunt, had changed so much that his once rugged features now even showed a hint of "refinement" in his large beard. He led the solemn-faced believers to kneel before the sphere of light, or rather, the "statue of God."
Under.
Soft chanting and prayers filled the entire altar and even the temple.
A solemn and respectful atmosphere arose spontaneously, accompanied by continuous prayers. The instinct for coordination among the crowd gradually came together. As the sound of prayer became clearer, the atmosphere of piety and fervor grew stronger and stronger!
Above everyone's heads, from the crystal ball that was comparable in size to an adult, pure white light flashed and descended, and invisible ripples spread like waves on the surface of water, encompassing everyone in the room who was breathing.
As each figure seemed to sense that subtle tremor of being "watched," beneath the apparent solemnity, another delicate feeling immediately arose in their hearts.
Just like when they were babies, lying in their mother's arms, that warm, satisfying and reassuring feeling intertwined with the emotions of these people who had rarely experienced "happiness." Regardless of age, their bodies trembled, and some even couldn't help but shed tears.
Perhaps it was a memory that stirred within them, but even the seemingly chaotic prayers ultimately became increasingly devout.
What the ordinary believers could feel was entirely different for the high High Priest.
As Fourth Tier individual.
With the transformation of their own life level, compared to the original "same kind" below, they have clearly begun to truly master their own bodies and even their latent instincts under the nurturing of Spirituality, truly deserving the title of "masters of their own lives."
Despite the current situation, Skander was still trembling uncontrollably, and could even hear his canine teeth chattering.
He pressed his head firmly to the ground, almost groaning.
A single point of will, vast as an abyss and as boundless as the sea, beyond the power of words to describe even a fraction of its essence, appeared and vaguely "descended" upon the Spirituality perception of this Vampire Baron!
What an existence that is!
Like a sun suddenly descending, radiating boundless light and heat! It adorned the deepest recesses of life's consciousness without warning!
The moment it was "shined".
In an instant, the High Priest's consciousness and even his spirit, which had almost fallen into a blank state, trembled as he was about to disintegrate and dissipate.
A surge of overwhelming joy and fear suddenly welled up in his heart.
Just like the feeling of a drop of water facing the ocean—it stems from the most essential yearning for that infinite, majestic, and vast will, wishing to offer everything to strive for "greatness." It is also a latent reaction of life's selfishness, desperately resisting such a mad act that is no different from destruction!
A fleeting instinct for survival, or perhaps some unseen "tremor," prompted the crimson Spirituality to respond with difficulty, "My lord, why do you do this?"
It was as if this faint question had suddenly "awakened" something.
And so, in the brief span of a breath, the soul that had almost escaped the body, the moth that flew towards the sun, the self and the aura that were about to dissolve—were as if outlined by an invisible paintbrush, revealing their true form once more!
Mysterious influences were exerted upon this.
Even the "star" deep within consciousness quietly dimmed its brilliance, becoming dim and gentle, blending in with the world, as if it were nothing more than ordinary.
Only this bearded man, who had almost "died and been resurrected," receiving the same treatment as the cross, still exuded an immense radiance beneath his seemingly calm surface, even as he trembled with fear.
And within it, a wisp of consciousness, a faint trace cast by a great being, a hint of curiosity, and even...
A gentle, childlike touch—
No, no!
How could "Lord" be a childlike being?! That's blasphemy!
After realizing what he had just thought, the High Priest, still confused, almost wanted to slap himself!
In his daily worship of this heavenly "Lord," Skander could not deny that he had many ulterior motives stemming from self-interest. But at the same time, he could not deny that something as great as the stars was inherently worthy of reverence!
Faith has its own meaning!
Completely unaware of what was happening to him, the "High Priest," now gradually enveloped in a white halo and with his figure blurred, appeared to the stunned crowd of believers all around him as if he had truly been chosen by the gods!
No, this is undoubtedly a living "miracle"!
It happened right before their eyes at this very moment!
An almost boiling reaction erupted in the crowd, but no one dared to approach rashly—not only out of fear of "blasphemy," but also because the white light, as it quietly spread, had already pushed away all the pale-faced "attendants" beside the High Priest!
At this moment, these figures with protruding canine teeth naturally and silently blocked the surrounding area!