Chapter 350

「……」

Under the bright blue sky and clear universe, the knight stationed at this holy ground of the righteous path fell silent.

The young knight rubbed his chin and blinked uncertainly.

"This… isn't right, is it?"

Did I just bump into a ghost in broad daylight?

Ghost wall?

"No, that can't be—this is the Mist Monastery!"

Herbert mumbled and turned to walk away in large strides.

Gone, gone.

"Hmm, I must be too tired—just a momentary daze…"

It's all Valentina and Fu Leimei's fault—they drained my energy, otherwise how could I make such a low-level mistake?

Lost my way?

Hey, how could I possibly get lost?

I'm under the blessing of the Siren Queen…

If my condition weren't so poor, how could I make such a low-level error?

Right, it won't happen.

Swoosh.

In the blink of an eye, the scene before Herbert changed again—he was once again standing before the passage leading to the underground sanctuary.

「……」

This time, with deliberate attention, Herbert sharply caught the subtle shift at the moment of change.

It wasn't the ground path that had changed—it was he himself who had been instantly teleported from his original spot.

Like being instantly teleported.

Under the suppression of some law, even though Herbert clearly knew where the path beneath his feet led, he could not defy it.

As if some presence were silently commanding him—You, come here!

Herbert felt this forced teleportation—hard to call it either "domineering" or "clingy"—and silently sneered.

What's the deal?

Why are you pulling this forced-affection nonsense, old man?

"Cough! Cough!"

Herbert thought for a moment, cleared his throat twice, and muttered to himself:

"Ah, I was planning to first visit Ashen Bishop to ask some questions, then report to the Grand Bishop—how did I end up wandering here in a daze?"

He paused deliberately, emphasizing: "... If I go straight to the Grand Bishop now, I might still be unclear about certain matters!"

"That wouldn't be right! I'd better go ask Ashen Bishop first!"

After speaking, Herbert waited a while in place, confirmed no change had occurred, then cautiously turned and stepped forward.

One step, two steps… three steps.

Herbert successfully stepped away from his original spot, heading toward Ashen Bishop's location.

But just as Herbert thought the old man had temporarily let him go, the scene before his eyes flashed again.

Swoosh—

He was back at his original spot.

「……Tch, fine, then I'll go see the Grand Bishop first! 」

Herbert took a deep breath and reluctantly descended underground, muttering: "I hope he doesn't blame me!"

Feeling the old man's manipulation, Herbert gritted his teeth inwardly.

The monastery's old man bullies me, young and powerless, hiding underground to teleport me at will.

Endure!

Old man, I just can't beat you yet—but if I could, I'd teleport you everywhere like a nuke drop.

Hmph!

Though furious inside, Herbert's expression remained calm, "casually" accepting the sudden change of plans.

With a faint smile on his lips, he walked easily to the entrance of the underground sanctuary and bowed to the Thorn Bishop standing guard there.

"Your Grace, the Judge-Advocate."

The judge, who had been standing motionless with closed eyes, only slowly opened them after Herbert spoke.

"... Huh? Oh."

He clearly froze for a second, then regained himself and smiled at the boy before him: "Herbert? What are you doing here? When did you arrive? Ah—Haa!"

As he spoke, the Judge-Advocate openly let out a huge yawn.

Not only that—he stretched his neck, raised both arms, and forcefully extended his body, producing a series of sharp cracks.

?

Herbert stared at the Judge-Advocate's unreserved display, momentarily bewildered.

"Your Grace, what are you…"

Wait, tell me the truth!

You just… were you asleep?

No, aren't you supposed to be guarding for the Grand Bishop?

How could you be so careless as to fall asleep?!

"Hey! Don't you have a lot you want to ask?"

The Judge saw the deep, unspoken confusion in Herbert's eyes, waved his hand casually, and said, "For example, aren't you dying to ask me—why dare you fall asleep like this?"

Although Herbert had indeed thought that, he now flushed and shook his head, saying, "Uh, no, that's not what I meant..."

He wanted to spare the Judge's face, but the man himself didn't care at all, saying casually, "Hey! If you want to ask, just ask—it's no big deal."

"Besides, my sleeping isn't something only you noticed—everyone's known about it for a long time."

The Judge seemed utterly carefree; after speaking, he even flicked his head stylishly—though, being bald, no hair flew up.

Watching him like this, Herbert finally couldn't resist his curiosity and asked, "Er, you said... everyone?"

The Judge nodded, dismissing it entirely: "Yeah, the Grand Archbishop, the Guardian, Malcolm, and the other elders—all of them know."

Malcolm was the Grand Archbishop Rust Nail's real name; only the Judge called him that within the monastery.

Although all the monks knew that whenever the Judge and the Knight Captain got together, they would inevitably erupt into a furious argument and fight fiercely.

But sometimes, Herbert couldn't help wondering—weren't these two actually quite close?

It felt like they were openly fighting but secretly showing off.

Is this just my imagination?

Still, setting aside this unimportant detail, think again about what the Judge said.

Put that way... doesn't it mean nearly every senior knows he's slacking off here?

Is that really okay?

Herbert thought this, and couldn't help asking.

In response, the Judge remained utterly calm.

"What problem could there be?"

He snorted, chuckling low and shamelessly, "Hey, with him inside, does it even matter if anyone guards the door?"

"It doesn't matter!"

"Tell me—who dares cause trouble here?"

"The Apostles of Miss Xie Shen? Or their angels? Even if Miss Xie Shen herself controlled a manifestation, as long as her true body doesn't descend, what difference could it make to my lord?"

"None!"

After speaking of the Grand Archbishop's power, the Judge grew wildly excited, as if boasting of his own glory, and shouted proudly, "Whoever comes here is destined for only one outcome!"

"Whoever comes, it's the same!"

Herbert listened silently, thoughtful, but nodded half-skeptically.

He believed the Grand Archbishop was powerful—but could he truly be that strong?

Before witnessing it firsthand, Herbert still held his doubts.

The Judge clearly saw the skepticism in Herbert's eyes and grinned: "Don't believe me? Hah! Knew you'd doubt it."

?

Herbert raised an eyebrow in surprise and raised his hand: "Uh, I didn't mean..."

"No problem! It's normal!"

The Judge waved his hand again, blustering loudly, "When I was young, I didn't believe it either—I thought others were just exaggerating about the Grand Archbishop!"

"But later, when I finally saw the Grand Archbishop in action, I truly understood his strength!"

He seemed to recall the grand scene of that time, his whole body growing distant for a long while before sighing and shaking his head: "He was already that powerful outside—let alone here!"

"Remember, here, it's equivalent to my lord's... cough, cough, cough!"

Mid-boast, the Judge suddenly realized he'd slipped, bursting into violent coughs and forcibly cutting off the topic.

He glanced back nervously, then sighed in relief once certain the presence inside hadn't noticed his slip.

Phew!

"... Cough, cough, anyway, just rest easy! As long as the Grand Archbishop is here, nothing will go wrong."

After all that boasting, the Judge finally calmed down, placed both hands on Herbert's shoulders, and said gravely, "So, whether I sleep or not makes no difference!"

"Herbert, do you understand?"

Herbert, pinned firmly by the Judge's large hands, twitched his brow, tried to struggle, then nodded slowly, resigned.

"... Yeah."

At this moment, he finally understood.

This man—the Judge, who presided over judgment and punishment in the monastery—was knowingly breaking the law!

To justify his own "negligence," the Judge had gone to such elaborate lengths to construct this whole circle of reasoning.

Should he report it?

Report what, for heaven's sake?

Report to whom?

Report the Judge for dereliction of duty to the Tribunal?

Don't be ridiculous.

Or go to the Knight Order and ask the Knight Captain to uphold justice?

The Knight Captain might intervene, but he'd probably just exchange insults with the Judge—and get marked down as an enemy.

What about the Grand Archbishop—the only one truly qualified to handle this—would he intervene?

Probably not.

If he cared, would the Judge dare sleep so brazenly?

The Guardian... she could intervene, but she'd probably just enjoy the show.

Forget it—it's none of my business.

The child is still young; let him sleep if he wants to.

The Chief Judge, pleased by Herbert's maturity, nodded approvingly, released his hand, and laughed: "Hah! That's the spirit!"

Good lad, truly well-behaved!

Though born of nobility, he's far better than that fellow Malcolm.

After his sigh, the Chief Judge remembered the unfinished matter: "Oh right, you've come just in time—I never finished telling you last time…"

"Wait."

Herbert raised his hand to interrupt the Chief Judge's rambling, offered an apologetic smile, and said helplessly: "Your Honor, please wait a moment—I've been summoned by the Grand Archbishop; I must report to him first."

"Who cares who it is, forget about that… uh!"

The Chief Judge froze, desperately wanting Herbert to ignore everyone else and stay to chat longer, but quickly lowered his head in submission: "You mean the Grand Archbishop?"

"Yes, I came at his call." The boy bowed respectfully.

"Cough! Cough! Why didn't you say so sooner!"

The Chief Judge coughed loudly, then burst into laughter: "Hahahaha, go see him first—he's waiting."

"Don't keep him waiting too long!"

If it were anyone else, fine—but that's His Lordship.

Though reluctant, the Chief Judge obediently stepped aside—not out of fear, but out of respect for the Grand Archbishop!

As Herbert entered the sanctuary, the Chief Judge still couldn't let go: "But when you come out, don't rush off!"

"Mm-hmm, if nothing unexpected happens, I'll definitely stay." Herbert replied obediently.

Click.

As the door closed, Herbert stepped into the sanctuary.

This time, returning to the sanctuary, Herbert encountered none of the previous "trials"; he stood directly before the old man seated in silent meditation.

Herbert gazed at the Grand Archbishop, momentarily silent.

He simply could not reconcile the kind-faced elder before him with the terrifying, powerful being the Chief Judge had described.

Though he'd glimpsed hints from the Ice Goddess's demeanor during the temple's invasion, Herbert still struggled to accept it.

He simply could not picture the Grand Archbishop as the terrifying Saint.

What kind of being had the Chief Judge made the Grand Archbishop out to be?

The strongest Saint, the God of Mortals, one equal to a deity… such exaggerated descriptions made it hard not to imagine.

As Herbert's silent contemplation continued without him speaking, the closed-eyed old man seemed to grow impatient and opened his eyes.

He looked at the boy before him, smiled gently, and asked: "Oh? Why have you come?"

Herbert's expression nearly cracked; his mouth twitched involuntarily as he gritted his teeth: "Yes, how did I come… really strange!"

How did I come?

Don't you really know?

Not that you don't know.

Didn't you just yank me here directly?

You old fraud, are you pretending not to know?!

"Heh."

The old man met the boy's disdainful gaze with a chuckle, gestured to the seat beside him, and smiled: "Since you're here, don't rush to speak of other things—sit with me a while. I've just remembered a funny tale from the past."

Not just now.

Herbert glanced sidelong at the Grand Archbishop, silently sneering within.

You old fraud—didn't you start preparing this story the moment I left last time?

Still, though he understood, Herbert sat obediently beside him—playing the part of the well-behaved boy.

Go? He couldn't leave anyway.

Better to sit quietly and listen to the story than resist.

Besides, the Grand Archbishop's tales of the past—most of them genuinely interested him.

Those ancient legends unfolded before him in rare, fresh perspectives.

After all, not everyone could become the hero of an epic tale.

And this old man before him wasn't just a hero—he might be the greatest hero, the legend among legends.

A single small story he mentioned might dwarf the grandest goals others spent lifetimes chasing.

"..."

After listening quietly for a long while, Herbert suddenly asked: "Your Grace, did you ever encounter the God of Lust and Sin?"

"The God of Lust and Sin?"

The Grand Archbishop visibly paused at the question, hesitated, then asked: "Wait—do you mean the current one? Or the previous one?"

"If you mean the current God of Lust and Sin, I've had no contact with Him—never spoken to Him."

"But if you mean the previous God of Lust and Sin—I knew Him well."

The old man stroked his beard, sighing: "In that War of God-Slaying, I was one of them… well, let's say a witness."

Herbert:???

"Huh?"

What?

Wait—when did the God of Lust and Sin change?!?!

(End of Chapter)