In the magic tower, Qasim was holding a parchment scroll. At first glance, it looked plain and simple. Only the worn corners and yellowed roll surface could show traces of history.
This parchment was sent by Oude from the Temple of the Cross.
Qasim stared at the sentence on it, which was only two paragraphs long. The glyphs were ancient and mysterious. They were not phonetic characters but ideographic characters. The glyphs still had pictographic residues. In addition, there might be other differences.
But I am not a linguist, so I dare not judge otherwise.
Qasim opened the letter that Oud had sent with him.
"Our dear colleagues, we still know very little about the language on this manuscript. Even the most knowledgeable bachelors in the church can only infer that its text may be related to some mathematics. This is really a strange thing. The language is not specially encrypted, but each font contains mathematics. This may be related to some dwarf languages.
My colleagues, this is all we know and I have tried to list as much information as possible that will be useful to you. Hope you can find the direction to decipher it. "
Qasim skipped the final greetings and compliments.
Holding up the manuscript and reading it under the oil lamp, Qasim looked at it carefully over and over again.
"If it's mathematics, that's not my specialty."
Although it is necessary to have certain mathematical knowledge to explore mysticism, mathematics often serves as an auxiliary tool in mysticism.
Most scholars do not have the ability or patience to delve into mathematics.
Qasim held his forehead and thought for a long time.
"If we talk about mathematics, then..." Qasim thought of a person, "Ronald?"
He had heard lecturers mention Ronald's mathematical talent.
Although Ronald's stupidity is well known, recently, Kasim suddenly heard rumors that he was quite talented in mathematics.
"No...Ronald's brain is not normal. Apart from him...there are others." Kasim was still a little confused, "Priest Isa...not to mention, let her know that I am in contact with pagan cultivators." It will be troublesome."
Well, after thinking about it many times, Ronald was the only choice I had.
"Find an opportunity to absorb him into the Heavenly Society and ask him to keep it absolutely confidential. This is the only way." Kasim said helplessly to himself.
.....................
Chen Yi scooped water to wash the tableware. Thanks to the past of the knight family, there was a set of wooden tableware at home with a complete range of types. There was no need to directly cut off the bread and use it as a plate like ordinary townspeople, and the spoons in the iron pot were shared in turns.
"You want to go to the study to draw a magic circle?" Hedwig said in disbelief.
"Hmm...I'm afraid I'll be disturbed by something like last time."
Chen Yi was actually looking for an excuse. He didn't want others to see that he was the patron of the Kingdom of God, even his sister.
"Okay, be careful," Hedwig raised her eyelids and said with concern, "Don't close the door."
"ah..."
"I have to watch." Hedwig said seriously, "Occult science... is very dangerous, otherwise no one would call it witchcraft. Of course, I am not against your brother... you know what I mean."
"Are you worried about me?" Chen Yi expressed her thoughts succinctly.
belch.
Hedwig was speechless as if hiccupping.
"Well, yes." She recovered and admitted.
Chen Yi smiled and said, "Then I'll keep the door ajar."
"Yeah." Hedwig nodded in agreement.
After washing the dishes, Chen Yi walked into the study and left the door open, leaving a person's size behind.
It was already dark, Chen Yi let out a sigh of relief.
"Father Christopher may have arrived at the Holy Land, I don't know..."
If Chen Yi remembered correctly, the burning time of paganism was opposite to that of true religion. It was not during the day, but at night.
Thinking of this, Chen Yi couldn't help but feel sad.
"Draw the magic circle first."
Chen Yi thought to himself as he picked out the materials he brought from the academy. Kasim was very generous.
Using blood diluted with pure water, Chen Yi drew the magic circle. The pattern was still the circle of truth, and wrote the mottos in the scriptures.
Chen Yi only wrote down three of the six angelic names because the other three names served as patrons and he did not need their patronage.
After placing the sacrifices, Chen Yi sprinkled holy water on them.
Chen Yi knelt down in front of the Magic Circle and closed her eyes.
After experiencing the usual pain again, he ascended to the Kingdom of God.
Above the sea of thousands of clouds, Chen Yi looked down at Resurrection Town.
A simple sweep as usual.
"Lomeia, is she going out?" Chen Yi just glanced at her and then moved her eyes back to herself.
Zooming in, Chen Yi waved his hand and extinguished the remaining lights of the two bell towers.
The dim light fell, raised his fingertips, and Chen Yi wrote his name on the magic circle.
Before going back, he saw Hedwig in the living room, pacing back and forth. He wanted to go outside the study several times, but held back several times.
The consciousness returned to the body, Chen Yi chanted the ritual incantation, activating the ritual singularity.
“The King of my kings, the only god who can recreate the kingdom of heaven.
I have endless admiration and respect for you..."
Closing his eyes, Chen Yi opened his spiritual eyes and used the white gold inscription to trigger the ritual singularity.
The magic circle glowed with blue light, and the three names written from heaven glowed with completely different golden light.
The scene in his eyes changed rapidly.
Chen Yi stepped into Christopher's memory fragment again.
Half-collapsed towers, houses built with stone, half of the once glorious and towering church steeple has been broken off, a huge bell can be seen half-buried in the earth, and there are ruins everywhere.
The holy land in front of me has fallen.
It was already night. True believers can be seen lying on the streets everywhere on the road. They are pale and ragged. Most of them who have not become slaves are squires and nobles in the city who can afford the ransom.
Pagans, rich and poor, all knelt in the square, clasped their hands, and prayed extremely devoutly. Even after the feast, they could still get a glimpse of the joy of taking back the Holy Land, and many of them were originally born in the Holy City.
The tall and majestic Holy Silver Cathedral, with its wall reliefs shattered to the ground, seemed to be on the verge of collapse.
On the broken steps of the church, in the hall.
The old, weak, women and children who had no time to escape from the Holy Land gathered here, leaning on the corner, lying on the ground, or comforting each other. Their bodies were thin and they struggled to maintain the tranquility for the rest of their lives.
Chen Yi saw familiar faces, Alina was cutting old clothes to make bandages, the priest's disciples were comforting the frightened civilians, and Annie was nestled in her mother's arms, her watery eyes full of uneasiness.
The candlelight in the stone bowl enshrined in front of the statues of the saints was mostly extinguished.
Father Christopher, he squatted in front of the wounded soldier who had lost his limbs. The wounds had only been roughly treated, and the soldier's face was full of sorrow and despair.
"Father...what should I do? Lord, I failed to keep your kingdom of heaven...Father, will the Lord forgive me...Where is the Lord?" The soldier was talking nonsense, his forehead was burning.
"It's okay, it'll be okay...Child, close your eyes, take a good rest...take a good rest." Christopher comforted the soldier, his face full of fatigue and vicissitudes of life.
"K...Christopher." A weak voice came from behind the priest.
Christopher turned around. Under the torn monk's robe and bandaged forehead, with an old face, it was his close friend, Bishop Kaloyan.
The priest walked over and slowly squatted down.
"How long do I have to die? Old friend." Bishop Kaloyan stared at the priest and said hoarsely: "Your medical skills are the best among us... Don't lie to me, tell me, how long do I have to see the Lord?"
"Kaloyan...maybe there are three days left." After a moment of hesitation, Christopher said.
"Okay, damn infidel, you're going to send me to see the Lord." Kaloyan smiled mockingly, and then hissed because of the wound, "Old friend, I have seen the Lord, but how can I How about passing down the old man’s oracle?”
Christopher looked at his best friend who was still humorous and couldn't help but smile, smiled, and then tried to wrinkle his eyelids.
The priest comforted him a few words, and when he was about to stand up and leave, Kaloyan grabbed his wrist.
"Old friend... I heard that the pagan deity asked you to hand over the holy relics." Carlo Yang stared at the priest and refused to let go, "Christopher, I call you by your real name... I There is only one last wish: the holy relic of the church: the blood of the saints, must not be given into the hands of infidels, you would rather destroy it! You must not have foolish kindness, this is my last wish.”
Christopher closed his dry lips and said nothing.
Kaloyan lowered his voice and yelled: "Christopher, 'In all difficulties, the only option is to die as a martyr.' Don't tell me that you have forgotten this motto."
The priest turned around and looked at each displaced refugee.
"If you hand over the sacred object, you will be desecrating the gods and you will fall into hell, Christopher." Kaloyan's eyes filled with tears, "Old friend, I don't want to go to heaven only to learn that you are in hell... ."
