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Sauron thought for a moment, then asked in puzzlement, "Why do I get the feeling that the True Creator isn't all that mad?"
Einhorn heartily agreed. "That certainly seems to be the case."
"It looks like the True Creator has found a way to stay sane, and the gods seem completely unaware of it."
Sauron smacked his lips. "But he doesn't seem all that strong, either."
Einhorn replied, "Exactly."
"He seems to have only mid-sequence strength, and his status is unstable, wavering between a true god and an ordinary person."
"There's at least one Saint here. We probably can't escape."
"This must be an Aurora Order base, right? It's actually a noble's holiday estate? This architectural style really is... What a bold choice of location. Looks like they think the most dangerous place is the safest."
"So are we still running?"
Just as Einhorn was about to speak, Medici slapped the left side of his own face, clamped a hand over Sauron's mouth, and cursed with a furious laugh, "You two bastards really can't read the room!"
The high-ceilinged hall deep inside the mansion had temporarily become the Aurora Order's chapel. A black statue three or four meters tall and an Inverted Cross stood against the wall, which had been carefully painted with a ring of radiant golden sunlight and an upright cross. It could not compare with the crystals and gems inlaid in the original, but the devotion behind it was no less sincere.
This was the private prayer time granted by the Lord. The chapel was empty apart from Medici, but his two irritating cohabitants had shattered the sacred atmosphere with their squabbling, leaving him unable to quietly immerse himself in the mystical sensation of communicating with a great existence!
"Still running your mouths before the Lord!