TBR CH41

The morning prayer on the second day was still presided over by Archbishop Edwin.

Tarksius did not need sleep; a demon’s dormancy period was far more forgiving than that of humans. In the darkness, he took in the entire room, including the bishop’s ruby-encrusted scepter and the contract detailing the method for summoning demons.

The Dark God curled his finger, and the aged parchment floated into his hand. It was ink from a thousand years ago, now so faded it was barely recognizable. Tarksius had thought this thing would be lost to the annals of history forever, yet he had never expected to see it again.

He could not say what he felt—it was more of a complex emotion.

It had been a long time.

The scroll in Tarksius’ hand ignited as if an invisible black flame had consumed it, slowly devouring it from the edges inward, leaving not even a trace behind.

This was the last thing left behind by a demon named Tal, now completely erased from this world.

Even demons would not easily reveal their summoning methods to the mortal realm. After all, making deals with humans was troublesome—most souls were not rich enough to satisfy a demon’s ambitions.

Lower demons themselves did not possess much magic power, making it difficult to fulfill the strange and excessive wishes of summoners. They also ran the risk of being captured by the Church and burned at the stake. Throughout history, stories of demon summoning had only ever involved high-ranking devils. Going through so much trouble to leave behind a summoning scroll for a low-level demon was utterly irrational.

For a fleeting moment, beneath Tal’s shell, what surfaced was not the young demon’s rose-colored gaze but the dark red eyes of the Dark God Tarksius.

He watched as the parchment burned to nothing.

The scorching flames were so silent that the bishop likely had no idea. But even if he knew, it did not matter. Using that scroll might have been the decision Edwin would regret most in his life.

Edwin did not restrict Tal’s movements, and the bishop’s room lay exposed before him—there were no grand secrets to be found.

The demon’s gaze shifted to the door, unsurprised to find a small protective magic array meant to keep intruders out. But humans could not use magic themselves—the formation was constructed through the blessings imbued in the scepter, requiring daily replenishment of divine power to maintain.

Against a powerful enemy, this protective ward would be of little use.

…Which was why the real secrets had been hidden away. No need to worry about them being seen.

Edwin rose before the morning sunlight could pierce the heavy, deep-purple drapes. Sitting on his bed, he changed his clothes. Though he had not slept all night, he hid his exhaustion well.

Tal could hear the faint rustling of fabric from behind the bed curtains.

Then, the drapery was pulled open. The bishop’s gray eyes, upon seeing Tal, flickered with the briefest trace of unease, as though he had been pricked by something sharp.

It was as if he had convinced himself that everything from the previous night had been just a dream—only to wake up and find the monster from his nightmare standing right in front of him.

The “monster” waved at him. The demon’s fingers were long and slender, his nails sharp as blades. He smiled and greeted:

“Good morning, Bishop.”

The room was much brighter now—there was no escaping, no denying reality.

Edwin closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them.

“I must go and lead the morning prayer. Stay here. Do not go anywhere. The barrier at the door is imbued with holy magic. I… am not entirely sure if you can pass through it, but please, do not try.”

“If someone comes—”

The bishop hesitated, unsure whether to finish his sentence, his expression somewhat strange.

“If they are beyond your ability to handle, hide. Wait for me to return.”

It was almost like he was laying down rules for a misbehaving child.

But Tal, ever perceptive, caught the underlying implication in the bishop’s words.

What did he mean by “if someone comes”?

Ah, Tal thought, so the bishop had no intention of removing the ward at the door. No matter who came, they would be unwelcome.

Forced into an unbreakable soul bond, Edwin did not seem to fear Tal harming him. However, as a bishop, merely harboring a demon would be enough to bring about his downfall—even before any other scandal could come to light.

The bishop’s gray eyes lingered on the demon in the room for a final moment before he emphasized once more:

“We each get what we need. I provide you with sanctuary within the Church, sheltering you from your enemies. In return, you must not be discovered. Otherwise, all of this will be for nothing.”

“All right, all right.”

Tal’s voice was nonchalant. The demon was seated on the only high stool in the room, idly spinning in circles.

“My dear bishop, we already discussed all this last night.”

But you clearly weren’t listening.

Edwin kept that thought to himself, sighing in his soul but not letting it show on his face. He only locked the door behind him.

Just like every other day, the bishop ascended to the higher levels of the White Tower.

The moment Edwin disappeared from view, the demon in his chambers slipped out.

Tal did not even break the protective ward at the door—leaving was as easy as walking across flat ground.

Even without using the Dark God’s power, Tal was already a master of concealment.

Young demons had no choice. If they did not want to be devoured by higher-ranking demons like an afternoon snack, they had to learn every survival skill necessary in the Abyss.

Moving swiftly and soundlessly along the shadows, he took a moment to admire the Church’s architectural style, appreciated the freshly pruned rose bushes, and passed by several humans who paid no attention to his disguise.

It was just a pity that not all young demons had the courage to take the risk of wandering around the Holy Church. So after wandering for a long time, Tal barely saw anyone besides a few hurriedly passing priests.

After all, since the attack on the Holy Son, the church was still in a state of emergency. Most people had gathered before the Pope, listening to his follow-up arrangements.

When he turned another corner, Tal finally sensed the presence he had expected.

It seemed that the Holy Son of Light wasn’t staying obediently in his residence to recuperate.

Noah must have wanted to come and confirm his condition with his own eyes.

Earlier the previous day, the system and the Holy Son, Noah, had a negotiation.

In fact, the system’s situation was worse than the world’s consciousness had imagined, which was the fundamental reason it hadn’t fled immediately—it couldn’t escape.

The luck value it had collected in this world was a crucial step for it to regain strength and also the key to moving on to the next world.

But it was still a little short.

Noah had done an excellent job, better than any host the system had guided before. He was also so clever that the system felt a sense of crisis.

He had refused the usual practice of switching bodies after completing the conquest and had instead chosen to use a special identity as a shield against the emotional aftermath.

The Holy Son of the Church of Light had to be pure and untainted—that was his duty.

So he would always shed pitiful tears before every target of conquest, telling them that although he had decided to dedicate his one and only purity to them, he was unwilling to abandon his duty. He was the symbol of light and kindness.

“We will have a future together.”

The stunningly beautiful young man’s eyes glistened with tears, enough to soften the heart of any admirer, even making them reflect on their own sins.

He had already been willing to give everything to you—could you not trust him to return to the church? No matter what, you would always be the only man in his life. You had to give him a chance, give him space.

So everything had gone smoothly. Not a single conquest target had followed him to the capital’s Holy Church, all to avoid interfering with His Holiness the Holy Son’s career.

Of course, the situation was now somewhat unusual…

Noah hadn’t had time to stop what had happened. News of his severe injury had already spread to every corner of the continent.

Just last night, he had received several vastly different messages.

“They’re all coming.”

The system’s voice grew louder, and even its mechanical tone couldn’t hide its anxious emotions.

“Host, what are you planning to do? This was your idea.”

“Don’t panic.”

Noah pondered for a moment before smiling calmly.

“They won’t associate with me openly, so I can divert them away. But you… System, how much more luck value do you need to move to the next world?”

This was something the system hadn’t originally wanted to state so plainly, but Noah had already figured out the source of its power and its current condition.

After a few seconds of silence, the system finally told the truth.

“You must conquer the Dark God; otherwise, I won’t be able to leave—”

“What about the God of Light?”

The system fell silent. It didn’t understand why its host was so fixated on the God of Light. Besides, it had already warned him—choosing to stand with those who gathered luck value in the open was far more likely to attract the attention of the Heavenly Dao than so-called ‘villains’ of the world.

But considering the host’s performance over this period, it still answered:

“In theory, it’s also possible.”

“System,”

Noah clearly contemplated for a moment.

“I know the most important thing right now is to confirm the Dark God’s state in this world and whether the world’s consciousness has intervened. Although Adelaide mentioned in a letter that Tarksius had been swept into the flow of time, you won’t feel at ease until you see it with your own eyes.”

The system said nothing, tacitly agreeing.

“But no matter what the Dark God’s condition is,” Noah continued, “the previous progress is useless. I have to think of a new way to conquer him. And if I can handle the God of Light at the same time, wouldn’t that be even better?”

The system wavered slightly but was still hesitant to agree.

Yet, the young and beautiful Holy Son’s eyes were filled with insatiable greed and unwavering determination as he murmured:

“You didn’t notice the way the gods look at me—so captivated. I guarantee that conquering him will be far easier than Tarksius. Maybe we can even gather the necessary energy sooner, or perhaps earn even more.”

He was right.

At this moment, there seemed to be only one answer. After several seconds of silence, the system finally relented and handed over control.

“Let’s go with the host’s plan. But be careful—don’t be too greedy, or you’ll suffer backlash.”

The system’s warning was solemn, but Noah didn’t take it to heart.

“Don’t worry.”

The young man’s eyes curved into a smile. He looked so beautiful and pure that it was almost impossible for anyone not to fall in love with him.

The system hadn’t planned to speak again, but suddenly, it detected something and became flustered.

“Host, be careful! The Dark God’s presence… is inside the Holy Church!”

The system’s tracking function was never wrong.

Even so, Noah couldn’t help but feel skeptical.

He maintained a dignified posture, staring at the shadow in the corner. His injuries hadn’t fully healed yet, and standing in the sunlight now, though making him appear even more radiant and holy, was undeniably uncomfortable.

Until the shadow suddenly moved—splitting into two parts.

A demon, undeniably real, stepped out from the darkness.

The demon’s garnet-colored eyes cast a crimson gaze toward him, seeming a little wary but still offering a smile.

“Your Excellency has been watching this place for a while… You must have noticed me by now.”

The wait had been worth it. Noah reached up and gently wiped the sweat from his forehead. Finally, outside the Dark God’s temple, he once again saw Tarksius.

He looked exactly as the dragon had described in the letter—soft black hair, the horns atop his head, and garnet-red eyes…

Adelaide had written a letter again? Unable to distinguish the key points, it was a long-winded complaint about what he had seen and heard in the Dark God’s temple. Yet, unintentionally, it had turned into an opportunity that could be exploited.

Noah instinctively followed up with a sentence:

“I… mean no harm. You are… I feel like… you look very familiar.”

“I don’t recall ever meeting such a beautiful person like you.”

Noah observed the other’s expression and noticed that his eyes indeed held a trace of confusion.

The young demon’s eyes were a clear red—much easier to read than the Dark God’s. Suddenly, they lit up as if he had remembered something. His voice faltered for a moment, but though he opened his mouth, he said nothing.

Noah caught a fleeting look of realization and a hint of guilt. Had he just recalled the time he had attacked him?

The other’s reaction was too delicate and genuine, without a single flaw.

Could it really be such a coincidence?

The situation that the system had worried about did not occur. Instead, the Dark God had been swept away by the currents of time, sent a thousand years back to when he had not yet become a god.

The Holy Son pondered for a moment but keenly caught the admiration and fascination in the other’s gaze.

“Ah,”

The demon, noticing that he had been caught, avoided the topic of whether they had met before. Instead, he smiled and added,

“You are indeed very beautiful. I can’t help but praise you. I’m starting to think I might have met you before. But this is probably not the best time for a meeting.”

“The patrollers of the church aren’t here, you don’t have to—”

The Holy Son didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before the demon before him bowed and instantly vanished into the shadows of the corridor, leaving no trace behind.

Noah’s thoughts were still lingering between “Did he just flirt with me?” and “How did he leave so quickly?” when he heard the system ask if he wanted to chase after him.

His question then shifted to: “Does ending the meeting here count as a success or a failure?”

“No need,”

Noah finally replied.

“But I need you to locate the place where the Dark God stays most frequently within the church. According to Adelaide, someone within the church must be summoning demons.”

The system acknowledged with a sound and then added:

“The Dark God’s aura fluctuates in strength—this is characteristic of time magic. Perhaps he really attacked you back then due to memory disorder.”

Noah neither confirmed nor denied it. He told himself to be more cautious, but deep down, he was half convinced.

Besides, there was Adelaide. If any living being in this world could confirm the existence of the time stream, it would be that black dragon.

If that was the case…

Noah took two steps forward, half of his body now enveloped in shadow. He slowly spoke to the system:

“I think I’ve figured out how to win over the current Dark God.”

“…?”

The system heard the barely suppressed excitement in the young man’s voice.

“Do you remember the information you gave me about Taksis’ past? I will become the one person who saved him during his most painful experience.”

“That way, he’ll have no reason not to fall in love with me.”

A meeting couldn’t appear too deliberate. Tal recalled his own performance earlier and found it satisfactory.

Judging by the time, the bishop’s morning prayer should be ending soon.

On his way back to his room, the demon casually plucked two roses. It wasn’t entirely appropriate, but it wasn’t a big deal either—mostly, he just liked them.

As he picked the roses, the fragrance clung to him.

Tal smoothly made his way back to his door. The church was not exactly unfamiliar to him—this building had stood on the continent for a thousand years, and every generation lacked creativity. Perhaps the God of Light’s sense of aesthetics was simply like that.

Just as the demon was about to step into his room, he sensed something was off.

Had the magic formation at the door been triggered? Though it had been carefully restored, as the Dark God, he could see the flaw immediately.

Hmm. A trespasser powerful enough to break through the bishop’s Light magic. Whatever their purpose, they certainly weren’t here for a casual visit.

Tal chuckled with interest and stepped into the room.

To be honest, this place was utterly unremarkable—even the furnishings exuded an ancient and oppressive air.

He glanced around first, then pulled the bishop’s quill from its holder and casually replaced it with a rose before carefully inspecting the surroundings.

The scent of an intruder lingered in the room.

He wondered what the intruder was thinking now.

Perhaps they had merely infiltrated and were now forced to hide. Perhaps they were holding a lethal weapon, waiting for the bishop to return.

But now, they were seeing a demon stride in without a care, leisurely examining every part of the room…

As Tal opened the bishop’s dark gold, intricately carved wardrobe, he didn’t need to look closely to feel the air shift. A gust of cold wind rushed toward his neck—swift, sharp, and deadly.

The dagger was forged from mithril, a material favored by assassins. From humans to vampires, almost no creature was immune to its blade.

Of course, that didn’t include gods.

Tal turned his head with an apologetic smile, looking down at the assassin… at the corpse that had collapsed to the ground.

The body’s expression was twisted in agony, its death anything but peaceful.

Dark blood spread across the bishop’s deep-red wool carpet. The colors matched well enough, but Tal thought Edwin would probably have to replace the rug tomorrow.

So the bishop had many enemies.

That was what it meant, huh?

The Archbishop of the church had just finished his elaborate morning prayer.

Morning prayer allowed certain civilians to enter, but they had to be sufficiently devout and have performed many services for the church to earn this honor.

Although the bishop was not expected to stay long, many still hoped to approach him with questions or seek his blessings.

After the ceremony ended, as expected, people tried to push forward, some calling out their questions. The crowd became slightly chaotic, but as soon as the bishop’s gray eyes swept over them calmly, an inexplicable silence fell.

It was always like this. Once the scene was under control, Edwin turned to leave.

But suddenly, he heard a voice—sharp and jarring in the otherwise silent cathedral.

It was a devout old woman with emerald-green eyes. She had often kissed her rosary beads in gratitude, bowing to thank him for bringing the blessings of God.

Now, she spoke, as if opening Pandora’s box:

“Bishop,”

The old woman’s voice trembled slightly.

“Why do you not refute the filthy rumors from the outside world? They say you… that you have such a bloodline—this is outright slander!”

The church instantly erupted in whispers as people exchanged information in hushed tones.

This moment had finally come. Ironically, Edwin felt unexpectedly calm upon hearing the question.

“God does not need me to prove myself,”

The bishop’s tone was humble and courteous. His gray eyes were serene, as if capable of forgiving all.

He raised his arm, his expression solemn yet gentle:

“I am merely God’s most humble servant. Slander is the trial that light has given me. Since I know I am innocent, I do not fear it.”

“As for those lost lambs, I shall pray for them always. May God forgive their sins.”

Lowering his arm, he gripped the scepter that symbolized his position as bishop, the ruby atop it gleaming brilliantly.

This scene carried an almost miraculous power.

The old woman covered her mouth, realizing only now that she had blasphemously questioned God’s messenger. When the bishop cast a sighing glance at her, she sat back down in shame.

Edwin did not harshly reprimand the devout follower but displayed the forgiveness befitting a bishop.

He traced a cross over his chest, a gesture of blessing.

The crowd fell completely silent. People exchanged guilty glances and watched Edwin leave in reverence and submission.

Even those who still harbored doubts would not dare voice them in such a setting.

The bishop departed.

He was, of course, far from as calm as he appeared.

As Edwin pondered over matters, he made his way back to his resting quarters. However, just as he was about to step through the doorway, he suddenly became aware of an anomaly in the magic array at the entrance.

Had he not been paying special attention, he might have overlooked the flaw before him. But lately, his mind had been stretched taut at all times, sharp enough to tease out even the slightest irregularities from the chaos of clues.

Was this Tal’s doing?

Yet he couldn’t ignore another possibility. Edwin placed his hand over the ruby inlaid on his staff, feeling the warmth of the holy power gathering in his palm.

Only after making full preparations did he finally push the door open, his gray eyes scanning the room with vigilance.

Then, he saw a corpse sprawled wretchedly on the carpet, still clutching a blade in its hand.

And he saw Tal, looking somewhat innocent, clearly not intending to take responsibility for the situation before them.

Fresh, warm blood still lingered on the demon’s pale knuckles.

From what had transpired here, the archbishop thought, everything was perfectly clear.