After a thorough exchange, Noah finally understood the current situation in Ragunna.
"Oh, starting from two months ago, the Order began issuing various doctrines to increase everyone's faith in the Sentinel, frequently organizing all sorts of large and small prayer rituals to the gods, right?"
"Yes."
Phoebe nodded. She was about to continue when she suddenly raised her terminal, a hint of urgency appearing in her eyes:
"Sorry, sorry, chatting with you has been really enjoyable, but I have to go prepare for tonight's prayer ritual with the other clergy."
After a simple goodbye, Phoebe hurried away in her little white boots.
She hadn't gone far when the petite figure suddenly stopped, turned around, and quickly jogged back:
"By the way, let's exchange contact information. If you have any questions about the Order in the future, you can ask me."
"Alright."
After exchanging contact details, Noah sat on the bench, lost in thought.
The Order, faith...
As someone familiar with the plot, he knew that during the Carnevale, the collective will of the crowd could trigger a resonance with the Sentinel, allowing Imperator to descend divine oracles and the laurel crown.
And this prayer ritual—could it be another method to achieve resonance through collective will and faith?
Wait—now the Order of the Deep has unified Ragunna through faith, but their faith has long been altered by Leviathan, who holds authority over secrets.
The faith resonance they trigger will only draw the gaze of Threnodian Leviathan.
Case closed!
The Order of the Deep has conducted prayer rituals for two continuous months, finally pushing Ragunna's faith to a peak tonight, achieving resonance with the Threnodian.
And this resonance with the Threnodian, combined with their already erroneous faith, allows Leviathan to directly control their minds and bodies, ultimately leading to the descent of the Dark Tide.
"How are they so good at courting death!"
Noah felt a pang in his teeth.
Although this deduction wasn't comprehensive enough, with many parts being his one-sided speculation, he at least now had a clear goal to work toward.
Since he was currently in Christopher's script, he might as well act on whatever came to mind! In the end, Christopher would cover for him and restart the script if needed.
He decided to try interrupting tonight's prayer ritual—at best, he could introduce a little more division into this city whose faith was growing ever more unified.
With his thoughts cleared, Noah stood up. He needed to find a place to draw more paintings using Zhezhi's skill as a backup plan.
If the plan failed, he would directly use the scroll to absorb the entire Dark Tide, preventing Leviathan from coalescing a physical form.
"Hello, I'd like to check in at the Yagrota Palace Hotel."
"Very good, sir, you've arrived just in time. We still have three VIP-level suites available. Would you like to confirm a stay?"
Hearing the concierge's response, Noah was somewhat taken aback.
Wasn't it supposed to be presidential-level? How had it become VIP-level?
Perhaps because this time he hadn't toured Ragunna and arrived a bit earlier than last time, causing a slight butterfly effect.
"Fine, I'll take one."
"Wait!"
An overbearing voice rang out. Noah and the concierge turned together to see a haughty man dressed in Septimont style striding over.
"I, the eldest son of the Motley family of Septimont, want all three of the remaining rooms."
At this, Noah and the concierge were both slightly stunned. The concierge cautiously spoke:
"Sir, you appear to be alone. Why do you need three rooms?"
The haughty man sneered, wiped his head, removed the Septimont terminal from his waist, and released a massive Kerasaur before replying:
"One for me to live in, one for my Kerasaur companion, and one for my terminal to live in. Any objections?"
As the man's words fell, the ferocious Kerasaur bent down, its pair of triangular eyes glaring viciously at Noah.
"This is the most brutal Kerasaur in all of Septimont. Do you dare lock eyes with it for three seconds?"
"Pfft..."
A laughter-suppression challenge? Then I lose.
Noah turned his head away with a wry smile and looked at the concierge:
"It's fine. If he wants those three rooms, give them to him. There should still be one presidential suite left, right? I'll take that one."
"Very well, thank you for your understanding."
"Wait!" The haughty man, hearing there was still a presidential suite, immediately lit up with greed and spoke again:
"I want that presidential suite too."
"You want this, you want that—am I giving you face?"
The smile vanished from Noah's face. He raised his hand to grip the Kerasaur's crown, his fingers suddenly exerting force.
Bang!
He shook his hand, kicked the headless Elite-class Echo aside, then coldly demanded:
"Still want it?"
Gulp.
The concierge swallowed hard. The haughty man shook his head vigorously like a rattle, forcing an awkward smile onto his face:
"You... I realize you're someone who takes things very seriously. Actually, one VIP room is enough for me..."
"Sir, please don't stoop to his level. I'll take you to your room right away—the paperwork and all can be waived."
...
Cathedral of Mercury.
"Your Holiness, tonight's prayer ritual is fully prepared. Didn't you say the Sentinel would return in true form? Aren't you going to take a look?"
"No need. Dismissed."
After clearing the clergy from the Tidebreak Cathedral, Fenrico slowly turned around and looked up at the tall, pure-white statue of the horse-bodied, fish-tailed figure.
As he gazed, a splitting headache suddenly struck him, as if endless whispers were echoing in his mind.
Forcing himself to approach the statue, he took out the lantern left by the previous Primus, pressed the button, and a recording played:
"I, Fenrico, Primus of the Order of the Deep. Upon taking office, the Dark Tide erupted, the Saintess vanished, and contact with the Sentinel was lost."
Fenrico frowned and pressed the button again to switch to the next recording.
"I struggled to lead everyone in resisting the Dark Tide, using faith to stabilize Ragunna's peace. Ten years passed in a flash, and Ragunna was renewed."
"...I hunted down and eliminated everyone who knew the truth, even sending my former classmates personally onto the pilgrim ships..."
"Those who knew the truth of the Dark Tide back then would be eroded by the Threnodian. Leaving them would only become a hidden danger to Ragunna; they must be exiled."
Press again.
"Though not a Resonator, the Sentinel protects me. I can resist the erosion of the Dark Tide. I will oppose the Threnodian, not become Its puppet."
Press again.
"The Sentinel has descended a divine oracle—a powerful Threnodian proxy will emerge among the devotees, bringing life and destruction from the Dark Tide to this world... I must stop the proxy."
One recording after another played—some documenting past declarations, some recording major decisions, some serving as self-admonitions.
In this brief time, Fenrico regained a fleeting sense of self, and the turbidity in his eyes cleared somewhat.
He too was an ordinary person eroded by the Dark Tide, but over these ten years he had constantly restrained himself, doing everything possible to maintain his sanity.
"I hold compassion in my heart, yet my hands are always stained with blood. Even if this is for Ragunna's stability, it can never balance merit and demerit..."
The recordings gradually reached the final one:
"That strange creation is absolutely not benevolent. It must not be allowed to tempt us; it must be burned!"
Fenrico, now momentarily clear-headed, darkened his expression. He put away the lantern and took out a treasure mirror framed in gold thread and inlaid with strange jade.
He raised the mirror high, about to smash it down, but his movements suddenly slowed.
His rough palm rubbed over the smooth mirror surface, reflecting a pair of turbid yet devout eyes:
"Simply follow the instructions of the Sentinel's creation. When the people's faith reaches its peak, activate the Decree-defiling Mirror of Nightmare, and the return of Imperator can be welcomed."
Fenrico suddenly let out a low laugh:
"I've waited for this day... for ten whole years..."
Countless whispers echoed in his mind once more. This time, Fenrico felt no pain but instead strained to listen to the "Sentinel's" voice.
"Drive away... the god-slayer... puppet Fenrico... drive him away..."
"Sentinel above, your foolish believer does not know who the god-slayer is. Could you please give a name?"
"..."