“How is the situation?”
Qiansitelin looked at Muxuan with great concern.
After Muxuan explained the situation with the stronghold, the base, and Beikeze’s actions, Qiansitelin felt both confused and solemn.
Beikeze’s strength had rapidly risen to the Deep Sea Layer, and according to their little Highness’s description, the swords standing beside the stone tablets were not something Beikeze could have created.
But if someone else had provided them… who could have supplied two quasi-divine artifacts of that level?
“Tuo Er Ke came to me… He said the materials were all provided by Beikeze, and he was the one responsible for forging them.”
Muxuan’s voice was heavy, her fingers unconsciously pressing against her smooth chin.
As she spoke, however, both Muxuan and Qiansitelin’s expressions grew even more grim.
The Church didn’t have materials capable of creating quasi-divine artifacts.
Even if some were things Beikeze could have gathered, the divinity within those two swords was not something Beikeze could have accessed.
Qiansitelin hesitated for a moment, then voiced her suspicion.
“Someone provided Beikeze with materials containing divinity.”
She already had some guesses in her mind.
Muxuan met Qiansitelin’s gaze and let out a deep sigh.
It seemed she had come to the same conclusion as Qiansitelin.
Anticipating the question Qiansitelin was about to ask, Muxuan spoke before she could.
“Lutherch went to the Southern Mine Vein. The situation there seems quite serious… And to prevent any accidents, it seems he took Nisangdo along as well.”
“Should we wait for them to return?”
Qiansitelin asked, already preparing to head to the Southern Mine Vein to find Lutherch and Nisangdo.
Seeing Qiansitelin grip “Lyrasel” tightly, Muxuan immediately shook her head, placing her pale hand gently over Qiansitelin’s.
“No… You take them back to the base… the stronghold.”
“I’ll handle the Southern Mine Vein.”
Qiansitelin paused, then immediately objected.
“Your Highness, you should take them back. The stronghold’s affairs still need you to resolve them. Let me handle the Southern Mine Vein.”
Her words did not win Muxuan’s approval.
Instead, Muxuan’s expression turned stern.
“Qiansitelin!”
“This is an order!”
The commanding tone left no room for refusal, making Qiansitelin freeze once more.
She opened her mouth to say something, but then deflated.
Muxuan looked at Qiansitelin, shook her head gently again, and then headed toward the Great Artisan God.
She had her own considerations for certain matters.
But before Muxuan could take two steps, Qiansitelin’s voice rang out again.
“But Your Highness… the stronghold…”
“It might be fine to go to the base, but the stronghold is already in that state. How can the Watkan Tribe move in there?”
Muxuan stopped in her tracks.
After a long moment, she turned around, her expression somewhat downcast.
“Beikeze gave me the right to use those two swords.”
She didn’t understand…
What exactly was Beikeze’s goal in doing all this?
He had killed nearly a third of the Church’s total members.
Even Gelifende, who had followed him from the start, and…
Buzhaqi.
She remembered that void space, when she had first met Beikeze and the other two, and they had set the goal of reviving the Church.
She also remembered Buzhaqi holding back Hel, Beikeze healing her… and Gelifende, the first fanatic she had ever gained.
They had all been through life and death together…
How could Beikeze bring himself to do this?
Why did Beikeze have to kill them?
The reason she had valued Beikeze, given him the position of Cardinal, and handed over the Church’s decision-making power…
Wasn’t it because he was steady enough… rational enough?
As all sorts of thoughts swirled in her mind, Muxuan suddenly froze.
Rational.
That word had become somewhat unfamiliar.
There was a time when she had prided herself on her rationality.
But now she had become emotional.
If she put herself in the shoes of that utterly rational Beikeze…
Perhaps she, too, would have done these things for the goal she believed in.
Her sighs seemed endless, but Muxuan still let out a deep breath.
“The condition of the stronghold was caused by those two swords, but I’ve lifted it now.”
“It has no effect on the stronghold’s buildings, and ‘Muxuan’ has already reinforced the stronghold’s node.”
But the next moment, Muxuan’s pupils contracted.
A pair of soft, ample curves pressed against Muxuan’s face, completely covering her delicate features.
Qiansitelin’s arms tightly wrapped around Muxuan’s small body, gently patting her back.
“There, there, Your Highness~”
“If you’re hurting, just cry. There’s no need to push yourself so hard over this~”
“I’m always by your side. You can leave anything to me, Your Highness~”
Qiansitelin’s sudden embrace instantly enveloped the coldness and heaviness lingering on Muxuan’s face.
The reassuring warmth and gentle patting broke through the dam Muxuan had forcefully built.
The exhaustion of the past few days, along with everything that had happened at the Watkan Tribe, had long since drained Muxuan’s spirit.
Even if she had recovered somewhat, it was barely noticeable.
The Goddess’s passing had already placed a boulder on Muxuan’s heart.
And now the Church had suffered this.
Finally, at Qiansitelin’s words, all of Muxuan’s pent-up emotions burst forth.
“Ugh…”
A stifled sob escaped from Muxuan’s lips, pressed against Qiansitelin’s chest, her slender frame trembling slightly in Qiansitelin’s arms.
Qiansitelin said nothing.
She only tightened her arms, resting her chin gently on Muxuan’s soft hair, letting her vent.
Feeling the trembling figure in her arms, Qiansitelin understood exactly how her little Highness felt.
Even the heart of a god was not without its cracks.
Let alone her little Highness.
Beikeze’s mad act was no different from plunging another knife into the already scarred heart of her little Highness.
Time passed in silence.
In the distance, the Dwarves were still busy tidying up, the Great Artisan God’s commanding voice drifting over like through a veil of water.
After a long while, Muxuan’s trembling gradually subsided.
She took a deep breath, her voice thick with mucus, and gently pushed Qiansitelin away.
She didn’t lift her head, just wiped away the tears on her face with the back of her hand.
When she looked up again, her golden eyes were still red, but the confusion in them had been forcibly suppressed, replaced by a kind of weary clarity.
Her voice still trembled slightly, but she had regained a basic calm.
“Thank you, Qiansitelin.”
“I… I feel much better.”
Qiansitelin looked at Muxuan’s forced composure and couldn’t help but smile.
“Alright, Your Highness. There’s something I think might be useful~”
“When you went to retrieve the holy relic, Lutherch sent me a message.”
“Nisangdo is indeed from Sage Xizhu’s side… but they might also be connected to the Elven Forest.”