Chapter 114#
Distant Star Reflection 22#
Cardinal Simons instantly froze from head to toe.
How could someone bring a gun into the Holy City?
Could it be——
He turned with difficulty, yet couldn’t discern the silhouette in darkness. The ice-cold gun barrel against his head felt painfully clear, yet no gunshot followed. Rather than threat, it resembled torture.
Simons exhaled—at least the intruder wouldn’t kill him immediately.
His voice hoarse: “…Who are you?”
“Who do you think I am?” an ice-cold voice replied.
Simons initially found the voice unfamiliar, then suddenly realized he’d heard it at the banquet.
“Landon…you…”
No mistake. People occupying high positions within the cathedral possessed above-average intelligence. Yu Feichen spared no further words.
“Know what I want?”
“I…I don’t know,” Simons said, drenched in cold sweat, breathing harshly, trembling.
“Don’t know how to control snowmen?”
“Wormholes are…random. We can’t…can’t control where snowmen appear…”
Yu Feichen hadn’t heard such transparent evasion in quite some time.
“Then how can you precisely control passages opening between newstars and deathstars?”
With these words, Simons’ body instantly stiffened. Yet still admitted nothing: “It’s not——”
The trigger clicked halfway down. Bishop Simons immediately fell silent.
With a life in hand, Yu Feichen remained extraordinarily composed.
“Either wait for the pope throwing you out as scapegoat, or give me evidence now. Choose,” he said.
Simons’ face turned ashen.
In truth, despair had engulfed him the moment extinguishing’s consequences became public. Something this massive required the pope giving nobles an explanation to protect his position. The best explanation meant presenting the extinguishing experiment’s primary executor—him—stripped of all authority, facing severest punishment.
“Even if I…give you,” he struggled to say, “the pope will still…afterward…”
“Good,” Yu Feichen pressed the trigger slightly deeper. The gun’s internal mechanism had grown taut as bowstrings, requiring only a bit more pressure for Simons’ head to become fireworks.
“Choose again: die now, or die later.”
Simons still wavered. Yet Yu Feichen expertly understood pressure application.
“I’m running short on time,” he considered the reason for “running short,” finally saying: “My omega’s waiting for me to return home. 3, 2…”
“I’ll take you!” Simons suddenly exclaimed.
Yu Feichen smiled, withdrawing the gun. After all his talking produced no response, mentioning Tan Per—the rebel leader—made him capitulate. Simons wasn’t foolish. Wanting to survive now meant positioning himself against the pope.
Simons, having narrowly escaped death, required wall support to stand. His clearance within the Holy City was high. He navigated past guards and colleagues unobstructed. Access to the experimental zone proved unrestricted.
In the core laboratory, Yu Feichen watched Simons print out operation records for two “mirror stars.” First, opening small wormholes toward the Isabella’s control room. Second, toward a Landon estate coordinate—where his master bedroom was located.
Moreover, Simons had even carefully preserved records of the pope issuing commands. Clearly, the pope’s relationship with his beloved students proved problematic.
The ashen-faced Simons handed files to Yu Feichen.
Yu Feichen: “Not these two.”
Simons’ complexion worsened. Under Yu Feichen’s gaze, he painfully turned, printing another record—one regarding the emperor.
Through others’ accounts, Yu Feichen had learned the deceased emperor was young, ambitious, yet had poor relations with the pope, recently even clashing.
Upon seeing this record, Yu Feichen actually laughed.
He hadn’t expected the pope using the same wormhole disposing of both emperor and Tan Per. The emperor, conducting business on another star, was guided by cathedral priests to a fixed garden location, stepping into the wormhole the pope specifically opened.
The wormhole’s other end pointed directly toward the Isabella’s core systems about to transition. One stone, two birds—and conserving energy.
He collected all evidence.
Simons carefully ventured: “Then I……”
The trigger sounded suddenly——
Simons’ throat emitted a muffled scream. He stumbled backward, incredulously clutching his right shoulder as blood trickled through his fingers. This demon-like Duke Landon hadn’t shot from distance but pressed the gun directly, the bullet’s massive impact shattering bone directly—meaning……
Yu Feichen withdrew his gaze from the blood pooling on the ground. Having lost his right arm, Simons would never manipulate opening any wormhole again.
“Say rebel remnants did it,” Yu Feichen collected his gun and departed. Simons collapsed into blood, uncertain why Duke Landon fired.
Perhaps warning the pope that rebels discovered something?
Or…simply because he’d nearly killed his omega?
Beneath wall shadows, a shuttle silently emerged. Before boarding, Yu Feichen glanced toward the Holy City’s main gate, where Bishop Kaven appeared pacing anxiously.
Was it because Tan Per’s trial approached soon? Yu Feichen decided against further interaction, the shuttle quietly returning to Landon estate.
The snowmen-less night proved exceptionally peaceful. Upon returning to the bedroom, Yu Feichen found Tan Per already in bed. Approaching, the barely-sleeping Tan Per opened his eyes.
Yu Feichen first handed Tan Per records of the pope orchestrating the previous emperor’s assassination. As Tan Per reviewed them, he continued: “Claros’s system reports 70% completion progress.”
“Windsor told me what happened tonight,” Tan Per watched Yu Feichen, seeming about to praise him. “Had extinguishing proceeded as planned, this world would quickly become fragments.”
Yu Feichen seemingly only heard the first half: “What did he want with you?”
“Reminding me which legal loopholes could provide acquittal.”
Then Tan Per observed that Windsor resembled a natural litigator.
Yu Feichen showed little interest in litigator opportunism, thinking guns more useful. He intended discussing maximizing evidence’s effect with Tan Per, yet after near-full day separation, pheromones perhaps wanted approaching each other more than they did. After few words, Tan Per’s neck became infinitely more noteworthy than the pope’s concerns, and Yu Feichen preferred leaving fingerprints in that location.
Tan Per resisted nothing, yet between breaths seemed recalling something, saying: “You…pay attention to…the electors…”
The final word shifted tone, swallowed into the throat.
Yet Tan Per spoke correctly.
The next day, the cathedral announced “snowmen” completely solved. The pope’s most capable assistant, Cardinal Simons, lay bedridden, permanently disqualified from experiments. Upon learning, nobles maintained silence about everything from the night banquet, still reverencing the pope as Truth’s representative. The cathedral revealed no snowmen origin to commoners—people had long grown accustomed, after all, unable comprehending that day’s incomprehensible secret language. They merely knew the cathedral once again wielded truth’s power bringing endless blessings. Grand celebrations occurred across the capital. The cathedral’s prestige reached new heights.
Meanwhile, with all ten electors now present, the three-day electoral conference began under the pope’s supervision.