The Vastness of Magical Destiny
Chapter 266 - 7: The Devil’s Rebirth

Surge after surge of power heralded the nearing end of the spellcasting within the chapel. Almost simultaneously, the two figures locked gazes once more, each noting a hint of surprise laced with faint joy in the other’s eyes. Given the duration of the previous two sessions of spellcasting by His Holiness the Pope, the Great Prophecy Spell should not have concluded so swiftly. A single execution of the spell would almost entirely drain the caster’s energies and might even cause damage to their very essence. Therefore, each session should be prolonged as much as possible to gain deeper insights into the unknown realms. Such an abrupt ending could only mean that either the Pope’s body could no longer sustain a lengthy duration, or an issue had occurred during the casting, with the former seeming more likely. Whatever the case, these signs appeared to foretell something.

"Sir, His Holiness the Pope requests your presence," announced a monk in white clothes, gently pulling open the door of the chapel and respectfully gesturing them inside.

Inside the Coughni Chapel, waves of residual Holy Power still rippled through the air. After a brief moment of deference, it was the Gray-robed mage who stepped in first, followed closely by the White cleric.

Resting on the wheelchair like a withered leaf, the body of His Holiness the Pope appeared significantly weaker. However, to the surprise of both beholders, his face did not show much fatigue. Instead, his expression seemed contemplative, as if he was ruminating over something before making an important decision. The sunbeams streaming through the dome shifted hues under the influence of the residual energy field, casting a spectrum of colors onto the face of the statue of Saint Theresa. To some, the expression on Saint Theresa’s visage seemed to betray a longing for the nourishment of love, but of course, such interpretations were mere slander from those who maligned the Church of Light.

"Your Holiness," they greeted.

A silent hand gesture beckoned the two visitors to take their seats. Even in the presence of this frail, seemingly terminally ill elder, the two Archbishops, who could command the awe of millions of believers, showed utmost respect. It seemed that Julius was not entirely pleased with the performance of his two successors. A playful glint flashed in Julius’s eyes. He recalled a rather tactless but truthful saying: The more respectful someone is to your face, the faster they sharpen the knife behind your back. He wondered if his successors were doing just that. But right now, it didn’t much matter. The grand mission of the Church of Light must be carried on, and he would commend any who could spread the blessings of the Bright Holy Teaching across the Continent, even if it meant they had to step over his own body.

Seeing that His Holiness remained silent as if waiting for something, both Vazinsky and Frenster appeared quite calm. The Great Prophecy Spell could pierce through the mysteries of destiny, but it couldn’t ascertain the future. Perhaps His Holiness desired a more definitive answer.

His fingers subtly lifted and traced an arc in the space before his chest. The slender fingers looked exceptionally heavy as if bearing an immense burden, and a mist began to rise slowly in front of His Holiness the Pope. As he focused on the mist before him, it gradually thinned and dispersed, finally transforming into a mirror-like horizontal surface. This was Julius II using a memory reconstitution spell to recreate everything he had seen through the Mind’s Eye during the Great Prophecy Spell. He hoped the two men before him could truly experience his own feelings when he beheld those visions.

Shadows from the Dark World were creeping closer, and within the sanctum of the Bright Holy Teaching, a silent maw was stealthily devouring the glory of God. Julius had deliberated deeply before allowing the two to witness it all, knowing that the scene over the Mogan Wilderness must be connected to one of them. Noyola, although capable, along with the Court, had strayed too far down the path of extremism to make peace with the beastmen, even if they prostrated themselves in respect—such acceptance seemed unlikely for a man like Noyola, and the strange pride of the beastmen made this all the more improbable. Only the two before him could have had such ability. But now, Julius lacked the strength to discern to whom that scene truly belonged. He hoped the two would be honest upon seeing the scene, but he knew that was impossible. The mild furrowing of brows and the astonished looks in their eyes were so strikingly similar that Julius even considered, for a moment, that they might have conspired together. Of course, this was mere speculation, and the reality was unlikely.

"You have seen it, haven’t you? There has never been complete tranquility in the world, yet everything before us is far from ordinary. What do you think it all signifies?" As the mirror-like surface once again transformed into mist before dwindling into wisps of light smoke vanishing into the air, Julius struggled to retract his fingers. The exertion from casting the Great Prophecy Spell along with the Memory Restoration Spell was tiring even for someone with his extraordinary mana, and facing two individuals who in no way were inferior to any other, Julius couldn’t help but smile bitterly at the burden such a choice represented.

Although His Holiness the Pope’s words were calm, the implications were clear. Vazinsky meticulously pondered every detail that emerged from the other’s speech. It seemed that His Holiness was quite wary of that portrait. Kennifer III might be known as the chief Devil beneath Hades, but his total annihilation had been predetermined; otherwise, with his abilities, he would have already returned to life. Why wait hundreds of years? Could a Devil whose spirit and body had both dissipated truly be worthy of such grave attention? Vazinsky did not believe so unless there was another outcome—that the Devil had been resurrected. But the resurrection of the Devil was no trivial matter. Given the years that had passed since Kennifer’s demise, why would resurrection occur now? How could he, whose form and soul had perished, possibly be reborn?

Compared to Vazinsky’s focus on the first scene depicting Kennifer’s portrait, Frenster’s attention was more on the latter scene. Even though he couldn’t make out the specifics of the priest who appeared among the Beastmen, there was no doubt he was a cleric of the Church of Light. What did this signify? A warning directed at himself or something else? His Holiness’s unpredictable thoughts seemed elusive, making Frenster unusually sensitive and even causing him to overlook the last image of the first scene.

"Your Holiness, does the Great Prophecy Spell suggest that Kennifer III has been resurrected? If so, I fear a storm is brewing across the Continent once more. May we know the location indicated by the prophecy?"

Recognizing the tacit acknowledgment from His Holiness, Vazinsky felt a tightening in his heart. Although Kennifer III had once stirred the whole continent’s storms only with the power of the Dark Empire, in fact, his own magic power was extraordinary. If it weren’t for some special reasons limiting the use of his mana, no one dared to assert what the ultimate fate of the Dark Holy Church would have been. The resurrected Kennifer III may have lost his former status and many memories, but most of his magic power and consciousness would not be lost. Let’s hope his new form is a mediocre one; no one wished to relive the catastrophes akin to those of hundreds of years ago. Or that he could be found sooner—if even the Devil needed time to slowly regain his strength, and it wouldn’t be a short period. If he could be discovered before fully recovering, perhaps he could be eliminated while still in the bud stage.

"The South, we only know it is in the South. As for what has transpired, whether the Devil has indeed been reborn, even the Great Prophecy Spell cannot recklessly speculate. But one thing is certain, the spread of the Dark Forces in the South is undoubtedly connected with the resurgence of Kennifer III’s memories. Perhaps we should take precautions. Not just in the South, but anywhere south of Marco, there lies this possibility," Julius spoke with a rare fervor, perhaps due to his overexertion.

"Then Your Holiness, what do you believe would be the appropriate response?" Vazinsky was even more worried—no one could predict what a resurrected Devil might bring, but the Church of Light would undoubtedly be the first to face the threat. This was not a good sign.

"There is no need for undue anxiety. To date, we haven’t found any trace of the Devil’s reappearance, and his current power is far from comparable to what it once was; he is insignificant. However, we need to prepare in advance. Noyola will provide comprehensive assistance to all dioceses. Any suspicious activity must be immediately reported," Julius asserted, regretting that he hadn’t been able to see the face of the slender figure, but was certain that the figure’s movements were filled with an elegant air, perhaps even of noble birth. The thought that the Devil might have been reincarnated into a noble family made him shudder.

"Your Holiness, Frenster has been observing the first image intently. A cleric of the Church of Light appearing among the beastmen—what does this predict? Are the beastmen ready to abandon their idol worship to convert to our Bright Holy Teaching, or has a follower of our faith already brought the gospel to the Mogan Wilderness?" Frenster’s words were full of joy, seemingly excited about the Church of Light’s influence extending into the Mogan Wilderness.