Chapter 161: Saint Dora-a-Meng Has Three Sacred Aspects

As Baer's sun climbed to its zenith, the red mist thinned considerably, and the crimson scar across the sky grew dim beneath the star's radiance.

The bumpy vehicle trundled across the desert, distant towns shimmering and warping in the heat like a bizarre impressionist painting.

Zhou Yun always felt the car would reach Second Fediya Town in the next moment.

But the endless desert always distorted distance perception; the driver told Zhou Yun they still had at least twenty to thirty minutes to go.

Danton, seemingly resolved, turned his gaze toward Zhou Yun and spoke:

"Brother Huang Daxiong, since we're idle now, would you care to learn about our Salvation and Hope—the great Saint Dora-a-Meng?"

As he spoke, Danton pulled a small pendant from his chest.

He opened his palm, revealing the pendant resting there before Zhou Yun's eyes.

It was a tiny, finger-sized, exquisitely carved figure: a plump, blue, earless cat with one arm raised as if pulling something into its pocket.

The cat's red nose was inlaid with murky bloodstone; its bell glinted, seemingly forged from brass.

"I made it myself."

A shy smile spread across Danton's face, oddly jarring against his frightening features:

"I hope the Saint Dora-a-Meng will sense my devotion through this handcrafted icon."

Zhou Yun stared at the "icon" in Danton's hand, his face twitching involuntarily as he awkwardly shifted on the seat.

Danton noticed Zhou Yun's discomfort.

But he mistook it for the natural hesitation of a new believer.

"Though not yet recognized by the State Faith, Saint Dora-a-Meng is unquestionably a holy saint. When the Swarm invasion ends, the State Faith will surely formally acknowledge Saint Dora-a-Meng's place."

Danton explained:

"Would you like to hear? I can recite some of the Clergy's sermons—I guarantee not a single word of blasphemy."

Zhou Yun wanted to understand—understand what kind of sect worshipped him.

"Fine," he nodded slightly.

"Good, Brother Huang Daxiong, listen as I explain the Three Sacred Aspects of Saint Dora-a-Meng."

Danton adopted a solemn posture, reciting as if memorized:

"Saint Dora-a-Meng has three sacred aspects: He wields Death, He wields Machinery, and He wields the Dragon."

"We know He wields Death because the Death-Worshippers of Asford enlightened us: the Emperor granted Saint Dora-a-Meng dominion over Death, and thus Saint Dora-a-Meng took form as Lord Leyn Rus, walking the battlefield to bring death to humanity's enemies."

"We know He wields Machinery because the Tech-Priest Shaho Lik of the Cadia Shock Troops enlightened us: the God of Machines is a triune—First, the God of All Machines; Second, Omnissiah; Third, the Primordial Power. When Saint Dora-a-Meng appears, the spirits of all machines stir with joy, and all machinery operates with peak efficiency—this is the power of the Primordial Power."

"We know He wields the Dragon because the shepherds of Luxi enlightened us: in Luxi's ancient legends, the Dragon devours all. The Tyranid Swarm consumes planets, yet Saint Dora-a-Meng consumes the Swarm—thus, Saint Dora-a-Meng is the Great Devouring Dragon."

Zhou Yun listened, expression blank, nodding mechanically.

Now he knew who was behind this.

Clearly, Danton and his followers believed Zhou Yun possessed three authorities.

Death was clearly the doing of the Death-Worshippers led by Di Xi; the name "Dora-a-Meng" almost certainly originated from him.

Machinery was the work of the Tech-Priest Shaho Lik, who had somehow deduced that Zhou Yun wielded the Primordial Power—one of the three aspects of the God of All Machines.

The Mechanicus held that the God of All Machines was triune: the God of All Machines, Omnissiah as His earthly avatar, and the Primordial Power as the source of all motion.

And that last, baffling Dragon—most likely arose from the shepherds of Luxi. Their prophecy claimed the Tyranids were the Devouring Dragon.

But after seeing Zhou Yun stuff the Tyranid Swarm into his fourth-dimensional pocket, the Luxi shepherds reasoned: if he ate the Tyranids, then he must be an even greater Dragon than they were.

Thus, the three factions began linking and merging aboard the starship.

By the time the refugee settlement formed on Baer's third planet, as the denizens of the Underworld System banded together, a cult devoted to Saint Dora-a-Meng was born.

"I am ashamed—our sect split within three months."

Danton said, embarrassed:

"The Death-Worshippers were the first to lead us in worshipping Saint Dora-a-Meng, but most Asfordians and nearly all Luxians broke away, forming a new sect under the leadership of two Clergy."

"Now we chiefly revere Saint Dora-a-Meng's sacred dominion over Machinery, honor His power as the Dragon that devours, and pray He blesses our machines with eternal efficiency, devouring the Tyranid Swarm about to descend upon Baer."

Zhou Yun understood roughly.

The Death-Worshippers already had an established structure and were tacitly permitted by the Empire, so naturally they assumed leadership of the faith.

But their doctrines were too extreme—most people couldn't accept them, and a split quickly followed.

The Luxians and most Asfordians broke off and founded a new sect.

"... idn't the Death-Worshippers kill you all?" Zhou Yun couldn't help exclaiming.

Based on his impression of the Death-Worshippers, had Di Xi really not just chopped off their heads and offered them to the Emperor?

Had they become this gentle?

Danton's expression stiffened slightly; he quickly waved his hands: "We do have differences, but we still recognize each other's faith—only the emphasis differs. At least, not yet to that point."

"Hmm, not yet... Besides, we need every hand to fight the Swarm. Death will wait for us all—she's surely in no hurry."

The swarm is coming; as residents of the Underworld System who had escaped from the Tyranid swarms, they knew with absolute certainty that they would once again be thrust onto the battlefield, just as they had been in the Underworld System.

The Swarm was coming. As refugees who had escaped the Underworld System, they knew better than anyone they too would soon march onto the battlefield, just as they had before.

Zhou Yun could see that these few people had accepted their fate; he even sensed Danton's hatred for the Tyranid Swarm.

Whether from faith or blood feud, the people of the Underworld System had now fused together—no doubt this was why Dante allowed their faith to grow: to bind them as one, making them easier to command.

The patched-together, bumpy vehicle rolled slowly into the town.

This town was even narrower than Angel Descends Town; the road barely allowed one vehicle to pass, yet stalls spilled uncontrollably onto the street, forcing everyone to disembark at the town's edge.

The town's buildings were almost all crude shacks, bizarrely shaped, built from unknown scavenged materials.

Most streets and buildings were covered overhead by domes blocking the sky—as if the residents feared the heavens themselves.

As Zhou Yun stepped onto the street, he heard the sizzle of oil spattering; on roadside stalls, roasted desert rats glistened with grease.

Zhou Yun inhaled the greasy air, gazing at the narrow street and the obscured sky, feeling an inexplicable sense of comfort.

"Ah, the taste of a Hive World," Zhou Yun murmured.

He had lived in Hive Worlds long enough to understand the comfort brought by narrow alleys and blocked skies.

"When I first came to Baer, I was so terrified I could barely walk."

!. ead

Danton sighed beside him:

"The sky is so vast, everything so open, stretching beyond sight—it made me feel tiny, insignificant. A grain of sand, a gust of yellow wind could kill me. It took me days to relearn how to walk."

"The Hive World environment is so comforting, isn't it?"

Zhou Yun nodded in agreement. Danton bought a few roasted rats from a nearby stall and handed them to Zhou Yun.

"Try one—tastes like Asford, right?" Danton grinned.

Zhou Yun glanced at them: the roasted creatures were clearly some desert rodent, skinned and coated in sauce.

He took a bite—surprisingly good. Of course—they weren't the sewer rats of Asford.

Their meat and hygiene were far superior.

"Completely different—much tastier than back in Asford," Zhou Yun sighed.

In Asford, he rarely ate these roadside roasted rats—their smell was overwhelmingly foul.

"I feel the same," Danton nodded, then gestured down the street:

"At the end of this street is the small chapel we built for Saint Dora-a-Meng."

"Brother Huang Daxiong, if you wish to convert—or even just to learn—go take a look."

"A Clergy will be giving a sermon there—rare indeed."

Clergy—Zhou Yun paused slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

This must be the opportunity the Oracle of Right and Wrong had foretold—the chance to find the map.

The Asford refugees had crossed Baer's three planets; surely they maintained communication and travel routes between them.

A map guiding Zhou Yun to Baer's main planet must exist.

That Clergy could very well be someone he knew from before—even if not, they could lead him to Old One-Eye or Leina.

He wondered how they were doing. With their skills, escaping Asford was surely no problem.

Thinking this, Zhou Yun smiled and followed Danton toward the small chapel.

Feeling awful these past two days—unwell.

(End of Chapter)