The twisting, devouring, eerie pure-black pillars that shrouded the Mage Tower Stronghold had already vanished without a trace.
When Muxuan, Qiansitelin, the Great Artisan God, and the Watkan Tribe’s group arrived at the Stronghold’s perimeter, what they saw was a scene of cleanup and reconstruction.
Neither Muxuan nor Qiansitelin had gone to the Southern Mine Vein, and it was almost certain that the divine materials for those two swords had been provided by Nisangdo.
Lutherch had brought them along, perhaps to leave a safeguard for the Church and prevent the other party from acting recklessly, but he never expected things to turn out this way.
The reason they hadn’t gone was also simple: Lutherch had already sent word that the matter at the Southern Mine Vein had been resolved.
It was just that Mosen had been severely injured again, covered in corruption and wounds, and had fallen into a coma.
Muxuan turned her gaze to the Stronghold.
A trace of cold aura still lingered in the air.
The knights silently moved among the ruins, cleaning up the mess left after the black pillars were dispelled.
They all knew very well that His Holiness was furious…
Even though His Holiness was not here, they dared not exchange a single word, fearing they might provoke His Holiness’s wrath.
Muxuan and Qiansitelin felt somewhat heavy-hearted, but the Watkan Tribe grew excited.
Many of them had never seen the Light; they had only heard of it from the elders.
To many of them, the Light was nothing but a legend.
Even though the Light of the Stronghold carried a heavy feeling due to Beikeze, to the Watkan tribespeople, it still felt incredibly sacred and filled with warmth.
Many of the Watkan Tribe’s elders had already knelt down in excitement.
“Let’s go.”
It was clear that the Great Artisan God was also somewhat excited.
Having received Muxuan’s nod of approval, the Great Artisan God no longer hesitated and immediately led his people toward the Stronghold.
Bishop Valentin stood at the Stronghold’s entrance at that moment, draped in his holy robes, waiting for them.
Many civilians had been moved to the base.
Beikeze had left many people alive – he only transferred them.
The Light shone on Valentin’s face, but that radiance seemed unable to dispel his own gloom.
The lines on his face were much more pronounced than in Muxuan’s memory; his eyes were sunken, and his temples seemed to have sprouted several conspicuous streaks of gray overnight.
Standing there, he looked like a dust-covered stone statue, barely holding himself together.
Muxuan saw Valentin’s condition and sighed softly.
Her original intention had been to promote Valentin to a new Cardinal, but Valentin refused.
And Valentin had volunteered to handle the Stronghold’s aftermath himself.
Seeing Muxuan and her group approach, Valentin straightened his back with effort and tried to force a polite smile.
But before the smile could form, it froze at the corners of his mouth, looking exceptionally bitter and strained.
His gaze swept over the Great Artisan God and the dwarf group behind him, and he did his best to keep his voice steady.
“Welcome, allies of Watkan, to the Stronghold. The Church has prepared temporary accommodations for all of you.”
The Great Artisan God’s eyes narrowed slightly.
He noticed Valentin’s exhaustion.
His gaze swept over the Stronghold, and he roughly understood that while the Watkan Tribe faced danger, the Church had also experienced many troubles.
However, he did not ask further and returned a polite smile to Valentin.
Muxuan stood behind Qiansitelin, watching Valentin, a flicker of complexity in her golden eyes.
She could clearly feel the sadness and emptiness radiating from him.
Gelifende’s death had hit him hard.
‘But Gelifende’s death is also painful for me.’
Muxuan let out another silent sigh in her heart.
Qiansitelin keenly noticed Muxuan’s emotional change and moved her body slightly closer to Muxuan.
Feeling the warmth beside her, Muxuan subconsciously looked up.
When she saw the smile on Qiansitelin’s face, Muxuan couldn’t help but feel a warmth in her heart.
The brief conversation between Valentin and the Great Artisan God ended quickly.
The air was thick with a tacit heaviness, as well as cautious acceptance of the new allies.
Then he gave a slight nod without any further pleasantries and immediately turned to beckon several knights standing by at a distance.
Those knights were clearly also in a suppressed mood; their movements were swift but all silent.
“You there, help the Watkan allies settle in.”
“Make sure to be thorough, guide them to the designated areas, and ensure supplies are provided.”
Valentin’s voice carried hoarse exhaustion, but his instructions were clear.
The knights responded in unison, then quickly walked toward the Great Artisan God and the dwarf group behind him, starting to talk softly and guide them.
With a mix of excitement and novelty, the dwarves cautiously stepped inside the Stronghold under the knights’ guidance.
As they felt the warmth of the light enveloping them, many dwarves shouted out in excitement.
Just as Valentin’s gaze followed the crowd, it inadvertently swept over Muxuan, who was standing beside Qiansitelin, half-hidden by her figure.
Valentin then froze.
The girl’s silver-white hair seemed to shimmer with a faint glow under the Stronghold’s light.
Beneath her lowered golden lashes, her half-closed eyes held an indescribable sense of holiness.
‘This aura…’
‘So familiar.’
‘Pure and sacred.’
Valentin’s mind was filled with shock and uncertainty.
An absurd yet seemingly only reasonable thought uncontrollably surfaced.
‘His Holiness the Pope… Could he have a daughter?’
‘This… this feeling…’
He had never heard of His Holiness having any offspring, but the sacredness radiating from the girl before him, which was of the same origin as the Pope’s, made it impossible for him not to have that association.
His gaze lingered on Muxuan a bit longer, filled with scrutiny and disbelief.
This momentary lapse immediately drew Qiansitelin’s alertness.
Qiansitelin, standing beside Muxuan, suddenly had an icy look in her eyes, carrying an undisguised warning.
That cold gaze snapped Valentin back to reality.
He immediately realized his impropriety and offense.
A wave of embarrassment mixed with fear surged within him.
He quickly averted his gaze, not daring to look at Muxuan again.
Then Valentin forced a smile that carried both shame and exhaustion, and gave a slight bow in Qiansitelin’s direction.
Then, after a final glance at the Watkan tribe’s group entering the Stronghold in an orderly manner, and at the Great Artisan God silently directing, he turned around and dragged his even heavier steps toward the temporary office set up inside the Stronghold.
There were still too many things waiting for him to handle.
Counting the exact number of the newly relocated Watkan tribe, assessing their needs, allocating limited resources, and planning future integration and construction.
Not only that, but also the aftermath work for the Stronghold.
The mess Beikeze left behind was no small matter, and due to Beikeze’s series of actions, many civilians were unwilling to come to this Stronghold anymore.
The small strongholds surrounding this one had also suffered, and now reconstruction preparations had to be made.