"Yes, we performed the ritual, attempting to summon the 'Angel King' to descend, in order to ensure we could successfully capture one of the Arcane Council's artificial planets. But he didn't respond at all—not even the symbolic rejection light he used to display. Your Holiness, could the 'Angel King' be experiencing problems?" Philip recounted the entire sequence of events faithfully, his voice heavy with worry.
After the "Battle of Lontart," the Southern Church's strength had diminished drastically, making the "Angel King's" existence and allegiance all the more critical to them. His presence could help stabilize their anxious, doubt-ridden ranks, and a peak-Legendary powerhouse—one capable of commanding six Tier-3 Legendary Seraphim from the Heavenly Mountain—was a force in its own right that could influence the balance of power.
Of course, for Philip, the most pressing question was whether the "Angel King's" silence had anything to do with His Holiness. Was it because the method of gathering faith's power had been secretly disclosed? Had the "Angel King" encountered trouble while attempting that path?
Benedict XIII listened to Philip's answer without the slightest change in expression. He slowly closed his eyes, and holy light erupted behind him—wisps of milky luminescence drifting through the air, creating a sacred and boundless atmosphere.
Then, cradled by this radiance, what seemed like a gate opened in midair—the gate to the "Heavenly Mountain." Ethereal, otherworldly hymns rose from within, and an endless torrent of light poured forth, sculpting a near-substantial projection of the "Heavenly Mountain."
The angels and divine spirits within the projection appeared to sense the summons. They rose to their feet and bowed solemnly before Pope Benedict XIII, who held his platinum scepter.
He was the Lord's spokesperson on earth, the incarnation walking among mortals. Before his return to the Heavenly Mountain, he held greater dignity than even the "Angel King" and was closer to the Lord!
And upon "returning" to the Heavenly Mountain, he merged directly into the Lord's radiance, becoming equivalent to a part of the Lord himself!
After the bows were completed, they began to pray, praise, and sing hymns. The projection of the seventh level appeared clearer than it ever had before.
The seventh level of the Heavenly Mountain was vast, boundless, and transcendent—pure light without the slightest impurity, radiating immense oppressive force, as though it could truly annihilate the entire world!
Even Benedict XIII, a god-like being, could not clearly perceive the conditions within. He could only faintly discern at the edge of the light a supreme angel with thirty-six wings upon his back, holding an ancient and sacred tome.
"The 'Angel King' has not encountered any problems—he has merely fallen into slumber for some reason." Benedict XIII said to Philip with a gentle smile. "Though his Divine Guardian is well suited to such operations, can it truly not be done without him?"
Outwardly genial and calm, yet his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. How had Mechantlon become so feeble? What manner of injuries could produce this state? What was he truly doing? Had his ambition resurfaced after the Saer de incident? And who was responsible?
Even though the "Angel King" was shielded by the "God of Truth's" power, Benedict XIII was a genuine god-like being. And since "Mechantlon" didn't dare venture into the deeper regions—only "prostrating" at the edges—His Holiness had keenly detected his weakness and sensed something amiss in this inexplicable situation.
Had the Arcane Council not demonstrated the vital role of artificial planets through their broadcast, the Church—in its relatively calm period—would never have attempted to summon the "Angel King." It would have continued as it had for the past hundred years, and in that case, His Holiness would never have discovered the weakened state. Within half a year at most, "Mechantlon" would have recovered enough power to conceal his frailty, and given his connection to Thanos, the "God of Truth," there would have been absolutely no way for His Holiness to detect the problem.
"We have the Arcane Council to thank for this—Lucian Evans, Natasha Vavalite…" Benedict XIII's gaze grew slightly shadowed.
Cardinal Philip, hearing the Pope's words, replied with utmost reverence: "Your Holiness, summoning the 'Angel King' merely improved the odds of success and eliminated potential interference—his absence doesn't make it impossible. If you were to act personally, matters would become far simpler."
"Though I was only crowned a few years ago and cannot yet employ the 'Divine Descent,' I am still the Lord's incarnation, a god-like being standing at the very pinnacle of the mortal world. How could I not dare leave the Holy City? How could I not dare act personally?" Vicen, who currently occupied the role of Benedict XIII, tilted his head slightly, his tone as calm and measured as if he were discussing with Philip what would be served at tonight's communion. "Were it not for the false goddess Eitna watching from the skies, I could single-handedly intercept all of the Arcane Council's peak-Legendary mages."
The leap from peak Legendary to god-like being was a sublimation of life, a transformation toward immortality, an elevation of essence. Even without the "Divine Descent," Benedict XIII couldn't easily slay any peak-Legendary mage, but no number of peak-Legendaries could bridge the gap between the two tiers.
Philip said joyfully: "With Your Holiness personally taking action, the matter is already ninety percent successful."
"But I can only act once. The Silver Moon, Hell, the Abyss—those false gods and evil powers are surely waiting for an opportunity to strike me before I can employ the 'Divine Descent,' to cripple me. For that goal, the Silver Moon and Hell could even set aside their grudges and mutual loathing to act together." Benedict XIII's voice remained steady and genial.
He didn't know whether Lucian and the other mages had uncovered the true secrets of the monsters and the Heavenly Mountain in the World of the Gate, but he was certain they had discovered something. Though the stories told on the "Voice of Mysteries" were embellished, they contained more than a kernel of truth. Looking past the surface to the essence, one could vaguely sense that some connection existed between himself and the monsters, and that the reason he couldn't frequently employ the Divine Descent wasn't solely because his physical body couldn't bear it.
So he was making his plans based on the assumption that Douglas, Fernando, Lucian, the Silver Moon God, and the Lord of Hell already knew of the two great secrets.