Chapter 446: Something Is Stealing the Light

Nagelis's heart skipped a beat, barely holding back a cry out loud.

Kuba da! Isn't this just openly telling everyone she understands Holy Light too?

Sure enough, the priests stared in astonishment at the little angel's hand; Monica seized the little angel's hand and pulled it close to her face to examine it.

"It's truly Holy Light—so pure! No wonder she has the Holy Light affinity of a Saintess; she didn't even need to learn, just watching us cast it a few times and she mastered it. Amazing!" Yunika exclaimed excitedly.

Puh—can you really interpret it that way? What if she already knew how?

Monica also exclaimed excitedly: "Yes, her talent is extraordinary! Only a pure Saintess who just awakened Holy Light can release such pure radiance. Alas, we've all been tainted by reality, our minds cluttered with too many distractions."

Puh—is it because it's too pure that you're all mistaken?

Indeed, when a Saintess first awakens Holy Light, it is pure and untainted by impurities; as she grows older, her thoughts become more complex, and she can rarely release such pure Holy Light again.

But what if the one standing before you isn't pure because she just awakened Holy Light, but because she's simply naive?

Or perhaps the one who granted her Holy Light is even more naive, hence the utter purity? Purity, cleanliness—you can't even tell the difference?

Nagelis desperately wanted to jump out, unfasten her belt, yank out the elastic cord inside, twist it into a slingshot, and snap it right at her face to make her see clearly!!

Yunika suddenly noticed something, leaned forward, stared in horror at Monica's face, and gasped: "Mother… uh, no, Grand High Priestess Monica, your face?"

Monica instinctively covered her face and shot Yunika an angry glare.

The birthmark and scars on her face made Monica deeply insecure; even her own daughter shouldn't expose her wounds in front of others.

Yunika knew her mother was angry, but this discovery was too shocking—she had to speak again: "Mother, your scar's faded. Look for yourself."

She pulled out a small mirror from her chest.

Monica took the mirror half-skeptically, held it to her face.

The moment she lowered her hand, the room erupted in murmurs.

The female priests, drawn in by the mother-daughter exchange, had turned their attention to Monica; some even circled around to get a better look at her face.

Monica saw her own reflection, shuddered, and lifted her head in disbelief.

She knew that scar too well—it twisted, overgrown, and raised; every time she spoke, it writhed like a worm, so she always kept her hair down to cover it.

The scar was easy to hide, but the birthmark, stretching across half her face, was not; as Grand High Priestess, she couldn't cover her face, and had to endure the occasional looks of pity or revulsion.

Revulsion was bearable—she was Grand High Priestess, beloved by the gods; if you didn't like her, who were you? But pity… that made her furious. That look always meant: "What a waste—such a fine figure, but such a face."

Yet now, that ugly, worm-like scar had faded, its raised bulk diminished.

How could this be? Monica looked at the little angel's hand.

"Is it you? Can… can you try again?" Monica didn't even notice her voice was trembling.

The little angel sucked in a huge gulp of sweet fruit tea, summoned Holy Light once more, and pressed it against Monica's face.

Under everyone's gaze, the scar grew fainter, slowly shrinking, gradually smoothing, until only a white mark remained—all raised keloid tissue vanished.

"Whoa!"

"Whoa… so miraculous."

Monica trembled as she reached out to touch the scar, feeling its smooth flatness, then held up the mirror again, and exclaimed excitedly: "Is this… is this the pure Holy Light? The ability of the purest Holy Light to purify all things?"

Puh—Nagelis manifested inside Ang's soul an image of someone tilting their head back and spurting blood wildly.

Kuba da! Can you really interpret it this way? What if it's not pure Holy Light at all, but some kind of healing divine art?

No, Monica refused to believe it; Yunika refused too. They simply couldn't believe this pink, adorable little girl knew divine arts—she was clearly just a vegetable farmer's daughter who came to deliver produce. How could she know divine arts?

Even if she did, what divine art could heal such an old, deep scar?

None. Old scars form skin memory; even if you cut them off and heal the wound, the scar grows back.

She'd never heard of such an art. So the only possible answer: the power of pure Holy Light!

"Incredible! No wonder she has Saintess potential—she can release Holy Light twice in succession right after awakening! Too bad Holy Light doesn't work on birthmarks." Both Monica and Yunika believed this—and Yunika even felt regretful.

Birthmark? The little angel tilted her head, and extended one finger.

Ang immediately lifted her up, because Nagelis was already screaming inside his soul: "Stop her! Stop her! Stop her from using the freckle-removal spell, you idiot!!"

"Who is this?!" Monica frowned. How dare someone treat their Saintess like this? How bold.

Yunika saw her frown and knew exactly what she meant; she quickly explained: "This is Mr. Ang, the little girl's father."

"Oh, so you're Mr. Ang. Thank you so much, and thank your daughter for healing my scar. No matter what, please let me offer you my gratitude."

"Come, come, this way? What? No? No, you absolutely must let me thank you properly."

"You may not know, this scar has become my psychological wound—a wound carved into my heart, bleeding daily. Little Ao healed my heart."

"It's nothing short of rebirth. This is a life-saving grace—you must let me repay you. The gods show no mercy to those without gratitude."

"We're hosting many events here recently. You should join—Little Ao will surely love them."

No wonder she was a priestess—Monica's tongue was too skilled. Denying her a chance to thank you was like accusing her of ingratitude; her sincerity, her pitiful expression…

Ang wasn't fooled, but he still followed them, because Monica mentioned one event was the "Heaven-Piercing Divine Tree Seed Appreciation Festival," where they could see the seeds of the Heaven-Piercing Divine Tree.

…

Silvercoin sighed: "By the time I got there, they'd already been taken into the Sorcerer's Ladder."

"Who went in? Who was with His Lordship?" Anthony asked urgently.

"His Lordship and the little angel zombie went in. No one was beside him—only Grand Nagel's projection was on him," Silvercoin said.

Anthony panicked, clapped his hands: "Oh no, this is bad! His Lordship never talks, and without someone articulate beside him, something might go wrong!"

Nagelis was clearly excluded from the category of "articulate."

Silvercoin asked: "What do we do now?"

No one knew what to do. Unless they could sneak in—but they couldn't enter the Sorcerer's Ladder.

…

Monica and Yunika, along with the other priests, led Ang and the others through the Sorcerer's Ladder without obstruction; the guards not only didn't stop them, but respectfully bowed to them. Monica and Yunika returned the bows politely; the other priests just laughed and pretended not to notice.

Nagelis couldn't help muttering: "Aren't they afraid undead will sneak in?"

Soon Nagelis understood why they weren't afraid—after entering a sealed chamber, the door shut, and a beam of Holy Light descended.

In such a sealed space, any undead would have nowhere to hide—they'd be instantly vaporized.

This Holy Light was penetrating; even hiding inside a living body wouldn't help—unless… unless you had Holy Light shielding.

Nagelis wiped imaginary cold sweat from his soul. Good heavens—if Ang and the others hadn't had Holy Light shielding, this beam would have obliterated their souls.

Of course, they could resist with soul energy—after all, this beam wasn't very strong—but resistance would trigger the alarm.

Ang had already seen the place where the Holy Light originated: a Void Sphere hung there. Clearly, if the alarm triggered, that Void Sphere would explode overhead.

Only Holy Light can block Holy Light scanning. If you use Holy Light to shield yourself, you won't trigger the alarm.

If you're using Holy Light, you're obviously not undead—undead fear Holy Light so much.

So not just Ang, but Monica, Yunika, and the others also summoned Holy Light.

But their control over Holy Light couldn't compare to Ang's three—they leaked it outside, wasting energy.

Ang's three could confine Holy Light entirely within their flesh, silently, without a trace.

After the Holy Light scan, the door at the other end of the sealed chamber opened, and the group filed out.

Beyond the door lay a completely different world.

…

The interior of the Sorcerer's Ladder was enormous: seven hundred meters tall, over sixty meters in diameter—a colossal construct, dozens of times larger than the biggest sea vessel under Night Raven's command.

Its number of levels far exceeded that of ordinary mage towers; a typical mage tower, three hundred meters tall, with ninety-some floors, was already grand—but the Sorcerer's Ladder was twice as tall.

Yet it had few levels—only thirty-some—each level reaching dozens of meters in height.

Seeing Ang's three expressions of curiosity, Monica explained: "Gravity in the Void is too weak, so when the Ladder rises into the air, it rotates to fling us against the walls. So what you see as walls now is actually our ground after entering the Void."

Ang didn't understand, looked confused; but Nagelis did: "Centrifugal force simulating gravity?"

On the walls were several upward tracks, each with seats. Monica led everyone onto them, held on tight, and activated them.

Whoosh—they rose smoothly but swiftly to the very top, passing through the "chains" to reach the three-ring zone.

These three rings were made of individual sealed chambers joined together; each chamber was quite spacious—at least three bedrooms and two living rooms.

When connected, they formed a continuous circular space—you could run laps inside and return to your starting point.

When unlocked, each became an independent construct airship with limited flight capability.

"This is our living area. All of us live in these three rings. We spellcasters live in the middle ring, because when the rings rotate, their speeds differ—the outer ring spins fastest, so the sturdier goblins, dwarves, and human physical cultivators live in the third ring, where space is also larger."

Ang listened silently, gave no response.

Monica didn't mind; they assumed Ang was just a vegetable farmer, unexposed to the world, probably overwhelmed, so silence was normal.

Ang didn't speak, but she had to explain—why had she sweet-talked him up here? Precisely for Little Ao's Saintess potential.

Now that he was here, how could she make him willingly stay? By appealing to his longing for a better life. If she didn't show him how wonderful life here was, how would he know?

Although she wanted Little Ao to stay, judging by Little Ao's demeanor, it was Mr. Ang who made decisions. The priority now was to convince Mr. Ang.

As she explained, she gestured for the maids to bring out the good things.

Three cups of sweet fruit tea, a plate of nuts, a plate of sugar cubes, several plates of delicate pastries, and a plate of red fruit chunks were brought out.

Yunika's face stiffened; she quickly removed the red fruit chunks.

Monica glared at her, whispered sharply: "What are you doing? If you want to eat, cut your own."

Yunika smiled awkwardly: "Grand High Priestess, these sweet beets are what they sold us."

Monica froze, quickly signaled Yunika to take them away.

Almost exposed—if she served them food they themselves had bought, it would mean she was admitting they had nothing good here.

She hurriedly urged Ang and the others to eat.

Nagelis quickly whispered in his soul: "Eat, eat, act normal."

Since the Sorcerer's Ladder descended, to blend in as normal humans, Ang and the others had all activated their hearts; once the heart beat, some organs stirred too—like the digestive system. They could eat and digest just fine.

But pulling them out was very uncomfortable; Ang usually purified them with holy light, and even that earned him a jab from Negrilis: "Even gods don't defecate."

With blank expressions, they ate the pastries and snacks, sitting there and tilting their heads to look at Mo Nika.

Mo Nika's face showed no change, but inside she felt like crying: What's wrong? Don't they like it? Give me some reaction!

Well, it seemed these foods couldn't lure them at all; of course, the surface had such abundant supplies—even the poorest ate better than she did.

It seemed she'd have to lure them with novel things and colorful activities, but it wasn't time yet.

"How about this? I'll take you for a tour first, and then you can join the evening activities, okay?" Mo Nika asked with a smile.

Negrilis hurriedly said: "Agree to her, agree to her, go on the tour!"

Ang nodded.

Mo Nika smiled and led the way, guiding Ang and the others around; before long, somehow they arrived at the twentieth level of the main pillar, where the Church of Light stood.

"This is where our Church of Light is located; inside, we enshrine the statues of the God of Light and the God of Truth," Mo Nika said as she led them forward.

God of Truth? Negrilis muttered inside Ang's soul: Is there a God of Truth in the pantheon of the Light deities?

Ang shook his head, then stepped into the church—and immediately frowned, thinking to himself: "Something is stealing the light."