Chapter Thirty-Seven: The High Priest of the Celestial Spirit

“Third-tier pinnacle? Isn’t that a leap of two entire levels?” Link’s face showed genuine surprise, followed by a mix of envy and frustration. It was his own item, yet he couldn’t use it himself—what could be more exasperating than this? But knowing the situation was unfair didn’t help; the damned system was as unresponsive as stagnant water, never answering his queries or resolving problems. It seemed that equipment like the Holy Cloth could only be used by his subordinates.

He sighed helplessly and glanced at Saga, whose face was alight with excitement. The issue of obsession came to mind, so Link reminded him, “Saga, don’t become overly reliant on the Holy Cloth. It’s only an external tool; it can assist you but not make you truly strong. If you wish to become powerful, you must constantly strive to improve your own abilities. Do you understand?”

Saga was taken aback, the excitement fading from his face. He nodded vigorously. “Thank you for the reminder, Archbishop. I know what I must do. The Holy Cloth is my companion—I’ll trust it, but I won’t depend on it. Only by continuously honing myself can I become stronger!”

Link nodded with satisfaction. “Good, remember what you said today. The Dragon Holy Cloth, though powerful, is just an entry-level Bronze Cloth. There are still Silver and Gold Cloths ahead. Only by becoming a Gold Saint will you truly be called a Saint!”

“Gold Saint…” Saga’s eyes shone with longing, and he unconsciously clenched his fists. The others—Aiolos and the rest—who had been listening nearby, also wore similar expressions. Clearly, Link’s words had ignited their passion and given them a clear goal.

Having successfully stirred the blood of this group of youngsters, Link said no more. He instructed Saga to continue training the group and took his leave.

Originally, Link had considered teaching Saga the middle three levels of the Nine Yang Divine Art, but recalling the issues he himself had faced from unstable foundations, he decided Saga should first consolidate his cultivation. Besides, the inheritance of the Dragon Holy Cloth would take time to comprehend, so there was no need to rush the passing on of the divine skill.

In the blink of an eye, five days passed. At last, the Church of the Father had succeeded in purging the influence and power of the Temple of the Berserker and the Church of War from Qinke Town, also gathering many valuable items left behind by those two sects.

At the same time, word spread that the three great churches of the Red Moon Province had intervened to protect the Church of the Father. The news surprised and puzzled everyone—why would the three churches help the Church of the Father? In the end, credit was given to the Father’s divine manifestation, which only strengthened the believers’ faith. Only a few knew that it was actually thanks to Count Lothar’s assistance. Link wrote a letter of gratitude and sent it by messenger to Bath City.

With that, Link could finally set aside his worries, at least for the time being, about the Berserker Temple and the War Church making a comeback. Although the actions of the three great churches would draw outside attention to the Church of the Father sooner than expected, the church was now strong enough to withstand most attacks. And as for missionary work, Link, armed with the system, feared no enemy.

“With the affairs of the War Church and the Berserker Temple settled, if Altair is right, it won’t be long before the War Church sends an envoy for negotiations. Ha, when that happens, I’ll make sure to exact a heavy price. But before that, there’s still another church to deal with.” So thinking, Link gathered a few followers and headed for the Church of Heavenly Spirit.

The Church of Heavenly Spirit was situated on the southwestern outskirts of Qinke Town, isolated and tranquil, fitting its reclusive nature. Built here, it kept them away from religious disputes. Neither the former Star God, Berserker, and War Churches nor the current Church of the Father had ever truly regarded them as enemies.

Upon entering the grounds, Link immediately felt a sense of escape from the clamor of the world. Everything was peaceful and natural. The church building itself, though modest, was clean and unadorned, evoking the thought: “This is what a true place of worship should be.”

He looked at the tightly closed church doors and stepped forward to knock, but before his hand touched the wood, the doors swung open. A woman in her forties appeared before him.

Link paused in mild surprise, then smiled. “By the Father’s will, greetings, Priestess Sunny. It’s been a while.”

This woman was the presiding priestess of the Church of Heavenly Spirit in Qinke Town, Sunny. The church had no priests; its leadership was almost entirely female, hence their priestess system.

Hearing Link’s greeting, Sunny smiled in return. “Archbishop Neil, welcome. We’ve been waiting for you for some time.”

“Oh? You knew I would come?” Link asked.

She laughed softly. “You jest, Archbishop. You are a person of decisive action and clear intent—many things can be understood just by observing you.” Her words left Link a bit embarrassed, but she quickly relieved the awkwardness by saying, “Please, all of you, come in.”

With that, she opened the door wider to invite them inside. The followers looked to Link for a decision. After a moment’s thought, he thanked her and led them in.

Once the doors had closed, Sunny addressed Link, “Archbishop Neil, would you accompany me alone to the study? There is someone from our church who wishes to meet you.”

Link raised an eyebrow. “Someone? Who?”

Sunny glanced at Link, her expression respectful. “Our High Priestess, Heavenly Spirit.”

“The High Priestess of Heavenly Spirit?” Link and his companions were visibly shocked. The High Priestess was the head of their church. The name ‘Heavenly Spirit’ was not her real name, but a title adopted by each High Priestess upon assuming the role, discarding their former names.

Each generation’s High Priestess almost never left the church headquarters. Even on major holy days, she was rarely seen, spending nearly her entire life secluded in the temple, praying to her deity—one could almost call her a recluse.

So, the appearance of the High Priestess here astonished Link and his party, putting them instantly on alert.

Noticing their reaction, Sunny said, “There’s no need for concern, Archbishop Neil. We mean you no harm. Our High Priestess foresaw the rise of you and your church, which is why she traveled here to meet you personally.”

“She foresaw our rise? You have a gift of prophecy, then?” Link narrowed his eyes. In the world of Solakon, prophecy was a rare, almost ‘bug-like’ ability, but it was famously unreliable and difficult to use—few possessed the talent.

“The High Priestess will answer your questions herself,” Sunny replied with a mysterious smile.

Link felt a twinge of discomfort—he knew that kind of enigmatic smile all too well, as he often used it himself when talking with others. It was a necessary skill for any con artist.

Still, after a moment’s thought, he agreed to meet the High Priestess alone, only signaling secretly for Whitefeather to keep watch nearby. If the Church of Heavenly Spirit made any suspicious move, they would respond with force.

Under Sunny’s guidance, Link was led to the study at the back of the church. Sunny knocked, and a young, pleasant voice answered from within, “Come in.”

Sunny smiled at Link, signaling that he should enter alone. After a brief pause, Link decisively pushed open the door and went in.

The next moment, Link was stunned. Inside, seated before him, was a beautiful girl of sixteen or seventeen, with long black hair tied at the back in a large red bow, making her appear especially cute. She wore a high priestess’s robe, elegant and dignified, which enhanced her beauty with a mysterious and sacred aura, like a noble goddess from a novel.

But it wasn’t her striking looks or aura that stopped Link in his tracks. Before crossing over, he’d seen plenty of beautiful faces—touched up photos, CG images, or makeup transformations—and his years of working odd jobs had left him immune to such distractions. What surprised him was that she was unmistakably East Asian, with black hair and black eyes—a rarity in this world of foreigners and a sight that stirred a sense of familiarity in him.

Nevertheless, Link, seasoned by experience and willpower, quickly recovered himself. After a few seconds, he put on his professional, enigmatic smile. “Greetings. You must be the High Priestess of Heavenly Spirit?”

The black-haired girl returned the smile warmly. “Hello, Archbishop Neil. I am indeed the High Priestess, but you may call me by my real name—Lingmeng.”

“Lingmeng? That’s a fine name. But isn’t it customary for your church’s High Priestess to abandon her old name?”

Lingmeng laughed softly. “We have no such rule. The High Priestess simply doesn’t share her name with outsiders—unless she acknowledges them.”

“Acknowledges them?” Link’s eyes narrowed. “And why do you acknowledge me? This is our first meeting, is it not?”

“It’s all the work of fate, Archbishop Neil. Your appearance and rise were foreseen long ago.” Lingmeng’s smile was as enigmatic as any fortune-teller’s.

“Foreseen?” Link’s own smile faded. “You mean, my path has been arranged by someone?”

“Not by anyone’s hand, but by fate itself. We…” Lingmeng suddenly paused, her face showing a flash of anxiety and conflict, which greatly diminished her mysterious and sacred aura.

Seeing her hesitate, Link was perplexed. Sensing her distress, he hesitated, then said, “High Priestess, if you need to use the restroom, you don’t have to hold it in. Take your time—I can wait.”

Lingmeng reacted as if a cat whose tail had been stepped on. “What do you mean, restroom? You need the restroom! Your whole family needs the restroom! I just forgot my lines!” Realizing she’d lost composure, she instinctively covered her mouth. Seeing Link’s odd expression, she forced a stiff, embarrassed smile, then huffed in annoyance—her entire aura evaporating.

In that instant, the image of the sacred goddess in Link’s mind shattered completely, like a million wild horses trampling through his heart, finally converging into a single, exasperated thought: “This is just too much!”