Chapter 295: Chapter 295: Putting It on the Agenda
After years of absence, the sight of thousands of homes lit up in celebration is an unforgettable memory for the small town of Amara.
However, for York, it hardly matters.
He lies in bed in the side building's bedroom, watching everything outside with the detachment of a bystander.
"Four days in total..." York calculates the time spent in this otherworld as he gazes at the ceiling, hands behind his head, before closing his eyes.
Despite the fireworks filling the sky outside, to him, it seems irrelevant.
Though he's the one behind these events, York feels he's merely doing what needs to be done.
"York..."
Mirta's voice, filled with gratitude, rings out. She turns around, not seeing the priest, only to see the side building plunge into darkness, her voice fading away until it disappears.
"Father..."
Unable to see the priest, Mirta's expression shifts from gratitude to a relaxed and carefree demeanor.
"It seems I'm beginning to understand the Father's style."
Mirta smiles and turns back.
The campers in front of her have already started cheering joyously.
She walks slowly towards them, blending into the festivities as Mirta, a resident of the original town.
The light from the fire illuminates everyone's faces.
Each person has a clear understanding of the distant light.
The world is changing.
When people can disregard one of the seven fundamental principles of life, it signifies that demons are no longer the source of their fear.
It's unclear how long the excitement lasts before a vibration at her waist wakes Mirta.
She sees the still cheerful campers, exhales deeply, and then picks up the vibrating phone to move to a quieter corner.
"Hello?"
Mirta answers the phone.
But the next second, the caller's words excite her again.
"Mirta, hello, I'm Marcos."
The caller, Marcos, watches the police station and the town of Amara, now engulfed in festive atmosphere, with a determined look.
Beside him, Chief Rake, accompanied by Ryan and others, warmly welcomes the arrival of the sanitation workers.
"Come, come, have some water!"
Chief Rake instructs Ryan and others to offer water to the group of sanitation workers who have traveled from afar, laughing.
Truth be told, he understands why these city sanitation workers have arrived overnight.
They, like Mirta, are here to join the church led by Father York.
He's pleased with this development.
Chief Rake believes that these hardworking sanitation workers, under Father York's guidance, will surely be able to counterattack those damned demons.
"Mr. Marcos."
Without much thought, Mirta understands the significance of this call.
"What's your decision?"
What she didn't expect is that this group of sanitation workers has already arrived, and so swiftly.
They're even right before her.
"We're already here," Marcos says, looking at the brightly lit town of Amara.
"We're in Amara."
Mirta clenches her phone, her free left hand swinging fiercely, sincerely saying,
"It's great that you could come, Mr. Marcos."
Hearing this, Marcos, feeling the mood around him, also smiles.
"The arrival of the holy ones signifies our mission has changed from this moment on..."
What they discussed remains unknown.
The next day.
Early in the morning.
York opens his eyes on time, immune to the common issues of sleepiness or oily skin.
He remains unchanged from how he has always been.
Yet, York still follows his usual routine, taking a bath and arriving punctually for breakfast.
Without looking, breakfast is already prepared on the table.
York sits down, casually picking up a sandwich to bite into while observing the outside through a holographic display.
In the display, the number of followers outside continues to grow, crowding every view.
Previously, only a large portion came, but now it seems the entire town and possibly more outsiders have arrived.
The events of the last night have started to ferment.
York, with a god-like perspective, continues to scan the area.
He notices the situation inside the church, where Mirta, in a black nun's outfit, is talking to someone with a determined expression, wearing simple clothes yet exuding a more potent aura than Mirta.
"This person... I don't think I've seen him before."
York squints his eyes, habitually following the man's trail.
He spots some strangers.
These individuals seem to naturally possess an aura distinct from ordinary people, easily marking them as a team.
York chuckles lightly, thinking.
"It looks like it's time to put the new church on the agenda."
The establishment of a new church means the dispersal of the congregation.
And a new priest could take over his duties.
This way, he could be even more idle.
If possible, he wouldn't even want to leave this town.
York continues eating while observing this group, suspected to be sanitation workers, planning
his next steps.
Only after finishing does he stand up to clear the tableware and don his bishop's robe before heading to the back door.
"Mirta, what kind of person is Father York, really?"
Marcos stands beside Mirta, his breathing growing heavier as time passes.
As the moment approaches, this seasoned sanitation worker, who has battled corruption and demons for years, inexplicably becomes nervous.
Marcos extends his left hand to steady his trembling right hand.
Having witnessed Mirta's power since last night, he can hardly imagine what kind of person could grant Mirta such power.
It's the legendary holy power, identical to the energy in the crystals within their equipment.
Having visited the holy lands before, he understands even more.
In his plans, the ancient church's remaining holy lands are humanity's final bastion.
The reason is that the holy lands possess the same power that Mirta displayed last night.
Unfortunately, only two pieces of holy land remain in the entire world.
"If we could possess this power, we could surely recreate a new homeland..."
With this thought, Marcos clenches his teeth, squeezes his palm, and feels the tension ebbing away.
Mirta seems to sense Marcos and his colleagues' anxiety, turning back with a quiet laugh.
"Mr. Marcos, Father York is quite approachable, and he's been waiting for you all."
"That's reassuring."
Marcos feels relieved and is about to say more when suddenly, a commotion arises among the crowd.
"Father York is here!"
"Father York is here!"
"..."
Marcos abruptly turns toward the right side alley.
There, a figure has appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.
Tall and imposing, he exudes an irresistible charm.
Marcos watches wide-eyed...
In his view, the priest confidently strides into the hall, each step steady and powerful, every movement radiating a divine presence that commands respect involuntarily.
In that moment, Marcos feels his restless heart suddenly calm down.
Marcos watches the legendary priest ascend the platform, stopping to softly say,
"Thank you all for coming to today's ceremony, may the Lord be with you."
The bustling church quiets down in this instant.
Only inside Marcos does a storm surge as he stares at the priest on the platform, looking at the robe, murmuring in stunned disbelief.
"Identical, just identical..."
Marcos recalls a picture, a robe in that image identical to the one the priest wears.
He stares at the priest, remembering the associated description.
"The highest clerical rank in the church, the bishop's robe."
The weather finally collapses, leading to a hospital stay.
Owing one chapter, to be compensated later.
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