Mythology Rebooted-Chapter 573 - 244: Just Give It a Try and Pass Away_3

Afterward, he highlighted his ability to communicate with nature, explicitly stating that both he and Wayne possess a common talent and that Wayne still had potential to be unearthed.

High Priestess Saina couldn’t guide all of Wayne’s talents; he was different. Under his tutelage, not only could Wayne realize his full potential perfectly, but he could also communicate with the divine and learn the Divine Arts of foreseeing the future.

Finally, the mandrill said, "Some time ago, I provided two candidates from Frank’s district with information about the Nightmare Corridor, allowing you to successfully pass the assessment. It was not a coincidence; from the beginning, I intended to give you the information."

Wayne was slightly startled and waited to hear Tubie’s next words.

"I have an old friend in Windsor who contacted me recently. He asked me to help you become the Saint Heir. His name is Dean Plank."

So that old madman’s friend was you?

Wayne was astonished. Dean Plank’s connections were so wild; could he be an undercover agent for the Naturalism Church?

Upon further thought, the entire Windsor Magic Department was two-faced, swearing oaths of loyalty to the Queen while having their own ulterior motives. Perhaps Dean Plank wasn’t necessarily an undercover agent for the Naturalism Church, but it was certainly one of his fallback options.

"Dean Plank thinks too much, I can’t possibly become the Saint Heir, The Church doesn’t have such a tradition," he said.

"It’s unrelated to talent; it’s a matter of gender. You don’t have to be too pessimistic, it’s not your fault," the mandrill consoled, sparing no words of praise, "Wayne, your talent is so suited for the Great Prophet. If it were you, you would definitely be able to see the future and become a genuine prophet."

Seeing no expression on Wayne’s face, the mandrill continued, "I don’t want to speak ill of High Priestess Saina, but she is indeed a cold-hearted person. Don’t let her use you, and don’t let the mentor-disciple relationship bind you. Think about your teacher; I’m not lying."

Wayne’s face remained expressionless.

After a moment of contemplation, the mandrill, conceding the issue, said, "The Great Prophet’s legacy is inseparable from nature. You can’t master its essence through self-study. Right now, you can only communicate with a part of nature, limited to plants, not the entirety of nature."

"Can you do it, Great Prophet Tubie?"

Wayne, now interested, said after a long monologue, they finally got to the point.

"I can’t, my talent is limited. But you can, the only reason you can’t is that no one has taught you."

The mandrill gave Wayne a meaningful look, "Do you wonder why, even as an elf who is perfectly merged with nature, there is still something lacking?"

"What is it?"

A spark of realization lit Wayne’s eyes; this question had troubled him for a long time.

The mandrill revealed a human-like smile, "Wayne, I can’t tell you the answer; it involves the legacy of the Great Prophet line, which is forbidden knowledge."

If you want the answer, come to the Prophet Hall; I’ve placed everything there!

Under Wayne’s silent gaze, the mandrill threw out several enticing topics, scratching the surface but never willing to give a straight answer.

Don’t ask; the answer involves a legacy that must remain unspoken.

You want to learn? Come to the Prophet Hall, and I’ll teach you!

After tempting for five minutes, the mandrill ceased merging with nature and reverted to a common monkey.

Before Tubie’s thoughts dispersed, he left Wayne with these words, "Think carefully about what Saina can give you, what kind of person she is, what I can give you, and what you truly desire."

Tubie left, hoping that the next time they met, Wayne would no longer be expressionless.

"These people are such a hassle..."

Wayne’s perception of the Church headquarters’ higher-ups plunged from its already low point to deeply negative, wishing he could transform into a Naturalist Knight and take them all down.

The dream of his teacher becoming the Pope shattered.

Hefei, coming to the headquarters, would eventually turn into someone like Saina. If that day really came, the Randao Family would surely fall apart.

Wayne relinquished his obsession with presenting the Holy Maiden with the script for the noctilucent play; the cost was too great. He would rather narrate scripts to Veronica, and if possible, have Chris and Villy listen in and interact with the script.

If one day he could manage that, he’d have his own trio, and who would need a Holy Maiden then?

————

Naturalism Church Headquarters.

A mysterious space hidden between the God-chosen Continent and the cracks of the Great Void Cosmos, shrouded in multiple portals and mist, invisible to the human eye, unknown by name, and its location unfathomable.

This space, a chain of undulating mountains, unfolds like a beautiful scroll, dreamlike and enchanting, beautiful enough to make one linger with fondness and reminisce, yet it also acts as a barrier, blocking the contact between the Great Void Cosmos and the God-chosen Continent.

In the forests, ancient trees reached for the heavens, lush and green, teeming with the vitality and vigor of nature, where golden dreams were not confined to the greenery, the rolling clouds, and the passing breeze were all embraced by nature’s artistic realm.

Nature is a concept, as small as a blade of grass and as large as all the creatures, the sun, the moon, and the stars.

Be bold, day and night are so, and so is death.

From the top of the stepped mountain, an imposing complex of buildings could be observed, some far, some near, neatly arranged, with churches of all sizes meticulously distributed, forming a city in appearance.

Where there’s a city, there should be a distinction between the city center and the suburbs, and on a solitary mountain top in the suburbs, a cluster of white palace buildings stood tall, alone.

One could say they were detached from the world or that they were not accepted by it.

Prophet Hall!

In the green garden behind the hall, the huge canopy of trees spread out like an umbrella, and amidst the dappled tree shadows, skylarks hopped and chirped.

Two young men in white robes scattered bird feed under the trees, their serene demeanor blending with the surroundings. The skylarks treated them as companions, racing to frolic on them.

The two youths had elegant temperaments, their handsome features leaning towards the softer side, the corners of their eyebrows not too sharp, clearly they were the kind of honest people who were easy to talk to.

Vigil.

Sercy.

Two students of the Great Prophet.

Flap flap!

A skylark with an envelope in its beak came fluttering down, landed in front of the two, cheering and leaping as if to claim credit.

Vigil, unhurried, took the envelope, fed the bird as a reward, then opened it; as he read, his expression grew increasingly grim.

"Vigil, what prophecy have you seen again?"

Sercy approached cheerfully, glanced over the contents of the letter, and his face suddenly changed as he blurted out, "Who is this Wayne guy, where did he pop up from, did the teacher really go find him?"

There are no walls that do not allow the wind to pass through, and if there are, they would be pierced by those determined to steal a glimpse of light.

The content of the letter was like a bolt from the blue, outright denying the efforts of Vigil and Sercy over the years. Their hearts sank, and their inner turmoil caused them to lose their composure, startling the surrounding skylarks into a cacophony of questioning chirps.

"Vigil, let’s go find the teacher."

"No need, this letter arrived so mysteriously, intentionally causing our thoughts to become chaotic..."

Vigil suppressed the gloom in his heart and said indifferently, "Besides, if the teacher has made a choice, we have no right to object. It’s all destiny."

To hell with destiny, how many prophecies do you think are true, don’t you know?

Destiny is fought for, not predetermined!

Sercy snorted coldly, shook his white robe, and hurried toward the direction of the hall. He needed to ask the teacher for the truth; centuries of meditation couldn’t end up being for nothing. freewёbnoνel-com

Vigil sighed, flames ignited in his palm to incinerate the letter; he didn’t stop Sercy, wanting to hear the teacher’s thoughts himself.

Besides...

"Who exactly is it, who is disturbing the tranquility of Prophet Hall?"

"The Divine Oracle High Priest..."

"Or the Pope?"

Vigil wore a bitter smile; the timing of the letter was too apt. His mind was in disarray.