Only God
Chapter 554 - 478: Funeral for the Living

Chapter 554: Chapter 478: Funeral for the Living

They huddled together in this part of the forest, like prisoners waiting for their final judgment.

Faced with an unknown future, the True Believers were in a state of panic.

At that time, the sect’s Priest who had been unconscious for two days and nights finally awoke.

This could be seen as a spark of hope amidst despair, or perhaps it was just adding insult to injury.

Thanks to the utmost healing efforts of the True Believers, the gravely injured Priest finally regained consciousness.

Their frantic hearts at last welcomed a moment of peace.

In those days, the True Believers had exhausted all means in their struggle for survival. They used the Ancient Language to heal the wounded, bandaged their wounds, lit torches, and set traps around to prevent the approach of wild beasts. The revival of the sect’s Priest was undoubtedly good news, like a gleam of dawn in the deep darkness.

But how long could this glimmer of dawn last?

On the second day after the sect’s Priest awoke, an aftershock occurred.

The ground shook violently, and the sounds of collapsing came from all directions. Although it didn’t cause any casualties to the sect, it instantly pushed their fear to the brink.

Death seemed to be warning them not to leave this place recklessly, to await their fate obediently.

And the True Believers did not dare to move about before the situation had settled.

Though the sect’s Priest had woken up, he was incredibly weak, his complexion so pale he scarcely looked human, as if he were about to take his last breath at any moment and pass away.

Therefore, during these days, it had been the old Believer overseeing the distribution of food within the sect, beneath his emaciated body lay a tenacity that transcended death.

His actions never ceased for a moment, and the desperate, shattered sect began to slowly heal with each of his arrangements, each command he issued.

Veldor observed all the movements of the Godfather.

But he did not assist the old Believer in his tasks as he had done before.

He was already deeply mired in a quagmire of despair, immobile, bewildered at every moment.

Even though his right leg gradually regained movement, he did not stir.

"We will be trapped here forever...

We’re going to die here."

Veldor murmured repeatedly.

"Why..."

Beneath his numb exterior, something was accumulating.

The old Believer heard all the words the child spoke.

Whatever Veldor saw, he could see as well.

The entire sect had lost the vitality it once had, pride, fervor, enthusiasm... all were shattered by the disaster.

The True Believers, pained and desperate, leaned on each other, their hands clasped in prayer, their tear-stained eyes closed, chanting Scriptures as in times past, praying to the Divine.

In the legends, in the Scriptures...

Prophet Al and the people of Logos prayed to God at the end of days and were saved by Him.

Now, they had come upon their own end of days.

Everyone was powerless in the face of these disasters, unable to do anything but pray.

Veldor did not join the throng of prayers.

He watched everyone numbly.

How foolish...

What difference does it make how we pray, how devout we are?

He felt something building up in his heart, and upon close scrutiny, he found a hint of anger within his very heart.

Yes, anger.

An indescribable rage.

Anger that disaster had struck and no one was saved, anger that misfortune had come from heaven without explanation, anger that aside from anger, he could do nothing.

In these two days, although the sect’s Priest had awoken, his injuries showed no sign of improving.

A large stone had struck his chest during the earthquake, nearly shattering his entire breastbone. If not for the healing of the Ancient Language and the incessant, meticulous care, the sect’s Priest would have long since died.

"God, look at everything we have endured."

The Priest’s voice was faint.

That sentence came from a prayer in the "Book of Kings and Prophets."

The heavens were gloomy, the clouds hung heavy, and the corner of the world seemed to be crumbling apart.

This pilgrimage was fraught with hardships.

"How many have you buried?"

Looking at the old Believer, the Priest asked softly:

"Old friend, how many have you buried?"

After hearing this, the old Believer replied quietly:

"Six..."

Upon hearing this, the Priest lamented,

"It won’t matter if there’s one more."

The old Believer fell silent, not knowing how to respond.

He was well aware that the sect’s Priest did not have long to live.

With such severe injuries, no matter the treatment, life could not be kept from slipping away.

"How many people have not been buried yet?"

The Sect Priest asked again.

"Three, two of them passed away the day before yesterday and another one... also left this morning."

The Elder Believer answered without hiding anything.

The Sect Priest knew his time was running out as well.

At that moment, he spoke slowly,

"The last few days have been much calmer, even with the aftershocks... but it’s been bearable."

The Elder Believer turned his head, sensing there was more to his words, and asked directly,

"What are you trying to say?"

Seeing this, the Sect Priest began to speak slowly,

"Prepare to bury me, have those children buried with me during the funeral service..."

The Elder Believer looked utterly astonished.

The Sect Priest closed his eyes and said in a low voice,

"In the Sect, I’m the only one left with such severe injuries who has not yet died.

I know that I’m a burden to you all now... I won’t live for many days."

The Elder Believer said urgently,

"As long as you can live, we’ll stay here with you..."

Before he could finish, the Sect Priest interrupted,

"No, you cannot, you are betraying the Lord!

I don’t have many days left, but these days could save your lives.

A major aftershock could come at any moment, you need to leave here soon, bury us as soon as possible and leave immediately, otherwise, you are betraying the Lord."

The Sect Priest said a lot in one breath, his voice growing lower and lower toward the end.

The Elder Believer’s hands started to tremble.

He knew the state of the Sect Priest’s health all too well and that he was right.

"Do you want us to kill you? Commit a great sin and become sinners to be judged by God."

The Elder Believer said with a trembling voice as he tried to stop all this.

"No... It’s not that...

I’m like... a giant elephant, in this elephant graveyard, quietly waiting for death."

The Sect Priest spoke with a feeble breath,

"Please conduct a funeral service for me and those children sooner, doing it after I’m dead will be too late, too late."

This service was not only for the dead but also a funeral for the living.

The Elder Believer had seen too many funerals, but he had never held one for a living person, even if it was someone on the brink of death.

In the end, he accepted the Sect Priest’s request.

When the Elder Believer announced a funeral was to be held, bidding farewell to the Sect Priest and the three deceased True Believers, profound sorrow permeated the Sect.

Everyone helplessly prayed to God; among them, who knows how many were disciples of the Sect Priest, who revered him like a father, and who knows how many had received teachings from him.

Veldor numbly watched all of this.

He had given up any hope of leaving the danger behind.

Veldor felt dying now would be better than struggling and then dying later.

If a living person was to be buried in this funeral, then why not bury another?

After all, his soul was already dead, and his already scant faith had been worn away in the disaster.

"Hey... bury me too."

Veldor asked the Elder Believer.

His eyes were cloudy, and his speech somewhat slurred.

"I don’t want to go on anymore... I can’t see... see where the end is."

The Elder Believer looked into his disciple’s eyes, and after a moment, uttered two sentences:

"You can still walk, the end is in the Holy Land."

The end is in the Holy Land...

Those words seemed so easy, as if one could reach it by tomorrow, as if God’s salvation was within reach.

So effortlessly spoken, they ignited frustration in Veldor.

But he suppressed it, constantly pleading with his Godfather, who, no matter how much he argued, never agreed to his small request.

Veldor’s anger kept building, waiting to explode. He wanted to die, but the Godfather did everything he could to stop him, just as he had once stopped Veldor from stealing from the Sect’s funds.

The funeral announced by the Elder Believer was to be held on the very next day.

Throughout that day, the earth remained peaceful, with no fierce winds or storms, as if nature itself was mourning for the tragic fate of the True Believers.

Would it still be this calm tomorrow, the day after, or even the days following?

No one knew, as disaster could strike at any moment, with death always looming, ready to claim its due.