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Chapter 200 Changes Beyond Dimensions
Chapter 200 Changes Beyond Dimensions
The more he thought about it, the more he felt the Steam Church's attitude towards him was ambiguous.
...In the incident where Zoira Hernandez attacked me at Backlund University, it's impossible that the Machine Heart's subsequent investigation didn't discover that I was the key figure in that attack, but there was no subsequent questioning or investigation of me.
Moreover, after the Mechanical Heart recruited me as an informant, they never contacted me again, completely ignoring my existence, as if it were just to give my extraordinary status a reasonable explanation.
When I encountered the "witch" Clarice later, Archbishop Horamik didn't question me after scaring her away. Instead, he had the Mechanical Heart protect me.
Although I was indeed the victim from beginning to end in this matter... well, it seems I wasn't really a victim, but this is enough to illustrate the special attitude of the Steam Church towards me.
In the blink of an eye, a thought suddenly flashed through his mind:
Surely I didn't actually hear it when I was reciting the name of the "God of Steam and Machinery," but Adam responded first, so he didn't interfere, though he kept an eye on it?
The more he thought about it, the more likely he felt that this guess was very possible.
As his thoughts wandered, the ethereal, layered sounds of prayer echoed in his ears once more:
"From the unknowable sublime;"
You are the gateway to a higher dimension;
You are the embodiment of art and fantasy.
"Your faithful believer requests a revelation from you:::"
Having ascended to a higher dimension, Cyril followed the sound of prayer and saw Lawrence praying before a simple altar.
He gently rubbed his fingers together, causing the candle flame representing him to flicker.
The crimson flames turned a deep blue, then suddenly expanded, twisting and stretching to create a deep, dark crack, at least two meters high and wide enough for one person to pass through.
An invisible suction force suddenly appeared, causing the air around the altar to swirl and emit a wailing sound, like a gaping maw that never knows its limits.
It greedily absorbs all the spiritual things around it.
A few breaths later, as the spiritual offerings placed on the altar were exhausted, the swirling air finally stopped.
The cracks created by the expanding and twisting candle flames eventually returned to their normal size, swaying slightly.
Above the dimension, Sirion gazed into deep thought as he looked at the clusters of spiritual light he had captured through the ritual.
The attempt was successful, but he still didn't know how to use them.
"If only there were a way to store it."
As soon as he finished speaking, the surroundings suddenly became deep and dark, as if covered by a hazy, illusory night curtain that could absorb all light.
Then, the clusters of spiritual light that he held in one hand and was suspended in mid-air seemed to be attracted and flew out, embedding themselves on the "night sky" like stars adorning the darkness.
Cyril watched this scene with great curiosity. He had tried to change this place before, but had failed. He never expected that this place above the dimension would suddenly change according to his will.
"The only difference compared to before is that I've been promoted to 'Recorder.' Is it because my spirituality and life have been elevated, resulting in a change, or is it some kind of manifestation of the 'Recorder's' ability to 'record' and 'reproduce'?"
"It seems more likely to be the latter, or... it could be a combination of both."
As he muttered to himself, he raised his hand and snapped his fingers lightly.
Snapped!
The dim light around him brightened again, and then he saw wooden floors, a sofa, a crystal chandelier, and sunlight streaming through glass windows...
In the blink of an eye, a complete living room appeared.
After looking around, Sirion sat down on the sofa and closed his eyes to carefully sense the scene in his living room. He discovered that the scene he had previously recorded in his home had not been consumed.
Moreover, this scene in the living room has left an indelible mark on this dimension, like a film negative. Whenever he wants, he can recreate a new living room from the marks.
"If all the capabilities of 'recording' can leave traces like this, then wouldn't I be able to leave a backup of them here, and simply record them again after use?"
However, he quickly dismissed the idea. The "record officer's" "recording" requires the cooperation of a "mutated" brain and activated body cells, but here, he exists as a spiritual body and is unable to "record" at all.
"At least until I can come here in person, I can do this kind of self-production and self-sales operation."
"But before that, I can leave a record of what I've already 'recorded.'"
He paused, then looked down at Lawrence before the altar, still repeating the words of his prayer.
After a moment's thought, Cyril reached out and plucked a star from the hazy "night sky," then hurled it at Lawrence.
In reality, Lawrence's voice suddenly stopped as he continued to pray without receiving a response.
In a daze, he saw a hazy, dreamlike night sky and a "shooting star" falling rapidly toward him.
In the blink of an eye, the "shooting star" arrived in front of him, transforming into a pattern composed of a layered, illusory door and an eye surrounded by multiple lines, which was imprinted on his palm.
"Lawrence, Lawrence, what's wrong?"
Just as Lawrence came to his senses, he heard Verdu ask him a nervous question from the side.
He smiled and shook his head to indicate that he was fine, then looked down at his outstretched left hand.
Suddenly, a faint, illusory pattern of a door and an eye, surrounded by multiple lines, appeared on his palm.
He then turned to look at Verdu, whose gaze was also fixed on his palm, and said in a deep voice:
"That being has responded to me; we can proceed to the next step."
Verdu: "When?"
Lawrence glanced at the sunlight streaming in through the window and said thoughtfully:
"Let's do it tonight. The sooner we know the result, the better. My body can't hold on much longer."
"Okay." Verdu nodded heavily.
Noticing his suppressed emotions, Lawrence reached out and patted his shoulder, chuckling softly as he offered words of comfort:
"Compared to those predecessors who never saw hope, I am very lucky."
After a slight pause, his tone became more serious: "Don't tell the elders about this yet. And unless absolutely necessary, don't recite that person's name. Wait until everything is confirmed and a feasible plan is in place before making any further statements."
Verdu nodded repeatedly: "Yes, that's what I think too."
He paused, skipping over the somewhat heavy topic, and instead asked:
"There's still quite a while before dark. Would you like to go see that junior from Backlund?"
"His father gave up his status as an extraordinary being and the family's honor, but he picked it up again and was fortunate enough to receive that being's protection, safely passing through several full moons."
"Because he feared a bloodline curse, he chose the 'Diviner' path, which is adjacent to 'Apprentice,' intending to switch back after becoming a demigod."
"But unfortunately, he failed. The curse rooted in bloodlines cannot be transferred by extraordinary means."
Lawrence listened quietly, then nodded and said:
"Go and see, the future of the family will ultimately fall into the hands of you young people."
"I'm not young anymore," Verdu said with a light laugh, shaking his head.
At night, the southern part of the bridge is located in the suburbs far from the city.
Sparkling starlight surged from the void, swiftly outlining an illusory gate.
Then Cyril, Lawrence, Verdu, and Irving emerged from behind the "door".
After quickly scanning the surroundings and confirming that this was a suitable place, Cyril turned to Verdu and Owen and said:
"You all stay away, so you don't get affected by the 'full moon'."
"Okay." Verdu nodded slightly, then put a hand on Owen's shoulder and teleported him away from there.
After they left, Cyril turned to Lawrence and took out the "Crimson Moon Crown," which was inlaid with crimson gems and shaped like a full moon.
"Do you need to do some mental preparation, or meditate to adjust your state?"
Lawrence shook his head: "Let's get started."
"Okay." Cyril nodded, taking a step back.
The next second, the crown in his hand, inlaid with many gemstones, transformed into a crimson "full moon".
At the same time, the surrounding dim night suddenly brightened and turned crimson, as if draped in a thin red veil.
The full moon has arrived!
"Hmm..."
Lawrence let out a muffled groan filled with pain, his body immediately went limp and he collapsed to the ground, his face pale and contorted.
His exposed skin gradually became transparent, sometimes concave, sometimes bulging into a semi-circular bump, and countless thumb-sized "worms" could be faintly seen wriggling in the flesh beneath the skin.