Trier, the capital of the Intis Republic.
Because of the rise of the God of Steam and Machinery, along with the stories that had to be told between Him and Roselle, the level of mechanization here was even more widespread than in Backlund of Loen.
From airships powered by steam combined with Beyonder powers to alarm clocks found in ordinary people's homes, machinery was everywhere.
Many places here displayed the unmistakable character of steel and gears.
Even passenger carriages used steel frames fitted with chains, gears, and wheels, with horses only added at the end to provide suitable motive power.
There were also iron-box vehicles that could move forward without horses, though they were still quite slow and currently far inferior to horse-drawn carriages in terms of speed and freedom of movement.
Even so, they had already begun to reveal a glimpse of future technology.
A little after eight at night, beneath the crimson moon hanging high in the sky, Hastur and Sharon walked along the streets of Trier's West District.
The customs of Intis were quite different from those of the famously conservative Backlund. Sharon, dressed in her black court dress, looked completely out of place among the other girls strolling through the streets.
Some people even approached her to ask which clothing store had custom-made such a retro-style dress for her.
Retro, old-fashioned, relic of a bygone era, cumbersome, rigid, feudal, and restrictive, these were the words the girls of Intis used to describe Sharon's outfit.
Even Sharon, who rarely displayed much emotion, was beginning to get a little angry. When Hastur suggested that perhaps they should follow local customs and buy a few sets of Intis-style clothing for her to try, Sharon frowned and glared at him, looking genuinely annoyed.
"Personally, I've always thought this kind of exquisite and beautiful court attire looks much better. It's elegant and dignified, far better than those outfits that casually expose arms and legs."
When it came to matters like this, Hastur still had some survival instincts. Sure enough, Sharon's expression improved considerably, and her features softened slightly.
So Sharon actually cared quite a bit about such opinions.
Well, that made sense. What girl could tolerate having her favorite dresses criticized by other girls as completely worthless?
Having understood this, Hastur wisely stopped bringing up the subject.
After strolling for a while, they passed a clothing store that was still open. Sharon stopped and looked through the transparent display window at the various lightweight, simple dresses and revealing women's underwear displayed for pedestrians on the street.
Hastur casually glanced at Sharon and vaguely noticed the tips of her ears slowly turning red.
Eventually, she withdrew her gaze, composed herself, and pretended that nothing had happened as she walked away.
Hastur deliberately took another look and couldn't help clicking his tongue. Emperor Roselle really had left absolutely no room for future transmigrators to show off.
The styles of these dresses and women's underwear were practically no different from the lingerie shops of his previous life.
For Sharon, who had spent years living in Backlund, such a blatant visual impact was no less than a shock to the soul.
From breast wraps, to bandeaus, and then to modern bras, every advancement became increasingly revealing and individualistic.
From that perspective, it certainly was quite free. Thinking of this, Hastur became a little curious whether swimsuits in this world were also the same as those in modern society.
Sharon in a swimsuit? Given Sharon's personality, she would never wear something like that even if you beat her to death.
Hastur found that rather regrettable.
When he withdrew his gaze, Sharon, who had already walked two steps ahead, was looking back at him with a scrutinizing gaze.
"Ahem. I was just curious, that's all."
Hastur offered an explanation, but Sharon merely gave him a look that plainly said, "Do you really think I'd believe you?"
"Hehe, young lady, dressing like that will make your boyfriend unhappy. Men, you see, prefer girls to wear a little less, but they can't wear nothing either. Knowing exactly how much to wear is a profound art."
A woman who had just walked out of the clothing store, dressed much like a modern-day office lady, glanced at Sharon's outfit and smilingly shared some of her experience with her.
She completely ignored Hastur's presence.
Once the topic had been opened, the wife of a wealthy merchant passing by also joined the conversation.
"A woman should treat herself better. Clothes and underwear should always be replaced with something new. Take me, for example. I come up with new styles every month. Otherwise, that man of mine would've gone out looking for another woman long ago."
"..." Sharon's lips parted slightly, seemingly shocked that they could openly discuss such matters on the street with such uninhibited boldness. In the end, she glared at Hastur, signaling for him to hurry up and leave with her.
Suppressing his laughter, Hastur even deliberately thanked the two kindhearted women for generously sharing their wisdom before leaving.
After that little episode, Sharon lost all interest in continuing their stroll. As soon as they returned, she disappeared into the mirror and refused to come out.
Hastur could only sigh in admiration. The customs of Intis truly were unique. No wonder Emperor Roselle had integrated into this world so naturally and had even surpassed the locals in this particular regard.
...
In the basement of a luxurious villa in Trier's West District stood a black tree roughly five meters tall. Its crown pressed against the heavily reinforced ceiling, while its roots, having nowhere to spread, could only coil together in tangled masses.
At this moment, Suah, the Abomination, rose from one of the roots buried in the soil. His gaze fixed upon the top of the tree crown, where a sun had been tightly wrapped in layer after layer of material, not allowing even the slightest ray of light to escape.
For some reason, He had suddenly developed a premonition today that something was about to happen, yet He could not determine exactly what it would be.
That feeling had awakened Him from His slumber.
This was the capital of Intis, and the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun was nearby. To avoid being discovered, He could only conceal His information as much as possible by remaining asleep.
Yet now, He had been awakened.
His spiritual warning would not deceive Him. This meant that a major upheaval might soon occur in Intis.
He did not blindly attempt to peer into the matter. If He accidentally looked upon some existence that must not be directly observed, He might instead expose His current location.
For now, He could only hope that this upheaval would arrive a little later.
All He needed was another year or so. Then the new sun, which was absorbing the faith of the Eternal Blazing Sun, would be born.
By that time, even if the Eternal Blazing Sun descended once again, He would be unable to change the overall situation.
The divine oracle Suah had received was to remain hidden in the shadows and protect the birth of this new sun.
Suah looked once more at the motionless black tree. Then He leaned backward, His entire body merging into a root thicker than His own body.
...
The Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun.
Recently, following the Loen Kingdom's declaration of total war against the Feysac Empire, the Intis Republic had quickly followed suit and declared war as well. As a result, the priests of the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun had also become extremely busy.
However, during this period, the Pope had been absent from the Church, causing irreconcilable conflicts to emerge between several bishops.
Though they had once praised the Sun together, a strange atmosphere now hung over them.
One hour before dawn, the bell summoning the council rang out. Every bishop still in the capital, Trier, hurried toward the Church's main temple.
When the first rays of dawn fell upon the temple and streamed through the stained-glass windows, His Holiness the Pope, who had disappeared for some time, once again wore the golden holy crown symbolizing the papacy.
He merely stood there quietly, yet He seemed like the incarnation of the Sun itself, causing everything around Him to grow warm.
Here, all ice and darkness would melt away.
"God says that all heretics shall be put to the flames. Only upon the stake will they weep and repent for the sins they have committed."
Ross Hurley swept His gaze over the six bishops standing below. In His right hand was the papal staff, and the golden sphere of light at its tip radiated golden brilliance that filled the entire temple.
Some sharp-eyed bishops immediately realized that this was a type of confinement spell, a method intended to prevent anyone from escaping.
A similar method, on a similar occasion, had been used once several decades ago.
"God is merciful, but that does not mean anyone may take advantage of His mercy to betray their faith and blaspheme Him."
The magnificent voice reverberated throughout the temple.
With a stern shout, two stakes rose from the ground, already burning with golden flames.
"This is your final chance."
Ross Hurley's gaze swept across the six bishops, whose expressions shifted unpredictably, yet still no one stepped forward.
"You have betrayed God's mercy and my trust."
Following that quiet statement, two of the six bishops suddenly flew into the air on their own, their faces filled with terror as they hurtled toward the two stakes that had already been prepared.
They desperately tried to struggle, but here, His Holiness the Pope, wearing the golden holy crown, was the incarnation of the Sun.
"The newborn Sun will inevitably rise!"
"The aged and decrepit Sun should sink into the boundless abyss! Heh, that is where His final resting place belongs! The skies are the divine kingdom of my Lord!"
Knowing they were certain to die, the bishops let out furious and frenzied shouts. Unfortunately, their voices were soon replaced by screams of unbearable agony.
The remaining four bishops looked at one another, unable to understand exactly what was happening.
The newborn Sun?
Could it be... They instinctively held their breath, not daring to continue that line of thought. Their hands and feet gradually turned cold.
How long had it even been? Yet two bishops, right here, beneath the gaze of their God, had suddenly abandoned their original faith!
If His Holiness the Pope had not returned in time to deal with the situation, then one day, faith in the Sun would no longer belong to the Eternal Blazing Sun.