Chapter 370: A Fairytale Like a Mirror
I miscalculated. I initially thought they would be interested in this magic manuscript, but unexpectedly, they all showed a lack of interest. These people are truly devout cultists, uninterested in anything besides Beelzebub’s divine power.
The crucial point is, I don’t have any evidence to prove that this manuscript indeed records magic that they can learn; it’s just my own feeling.
If, as they said, Andersen’s magic leans towards the fairytale and witch genres, then indeed only I can learn it, and it would be useless to them, as most of the cultists here are men.
“Don’t say that. You must be diligent in learning and researching. Since it was given by the Saintess, everyone should take a look. Perhaps through analogy, you might gain something?” the Pope said at this moment.
Everyone nodded their heads, “Alright, since the Saintess said so, it’s certainly worth looking at. Maybe there will be some new discoveries?”
As they spoke, they passed the manuscript around. Since there were three stories, I divided the manuscript into three parts for them to read separately.
The first one to receive “The Little Match Girl” stared blankly after just one glance: “Ah! A feast, roasted suckling pig, roast turkey, a Christmas feast!”
The cultists present immediately looked askance. For a devotee of Beelzebub to mention a Christmas feast, wasn’t that a bit inappropriate?
“Ah, the legendary Mermaid! Eating her grants eternal life!” another cultist received the manuscript for “The Little Mermaid.”
“Talking apples, eat! Eat!” The cultist who got “The Snow Queen” had the same reaction. They frantically grabbed at the non-existent food before them, seemingly falling into a hallucination.
Everyone looked at each other, truly worthy of a manuscript provided by the Saintess, it was so terrifying. They fell into a hallucination without much resistance.
My forehead was covered in dark lines. Why do these guys only think about eating when they look at any fairytale? Is this the effect of Gluttony Believers?
And why do they fall into a hallucination when they look at it, while I see nothing? Is this preferential treatment?
“Wake up!” The Pope slammed the table, and a Mental Shock swept through the gathering hall again. Those who were just looking at the manuscript were immediately dazed.
They instantly sobered up. The delicious food that had been before their eyes vanished, their empty hands remained suspended in mid-air, and their mouths were wide open.
They also realized they had made a fool of themselves and awkwardly placed the manuscript back on the table, lamenting the manuscript’s terrifying nature, as they had still fallen for it despite being prepared.
“Let me see,” the Pope said, taking all three manuscripts. When he looked at the first one, “The Little Match Girl,” he showed no reaction. When he looked at “The Little Mermaid,” a faint phantom of a crown appeared above his head.
However, he continued to flip through. When he reached “The Snow Queen,” the crown on his head transformed from a phantom to an ice crown, and a chilling aura emanated from his body.
Unfortunately, it didn’t last long. The Pope put down the manuscript, the phantom of the crown vanished, and he did not fall into a hallucination.
“Ahem, the Saintess’s manuscript indeed has some depth. Unfortunately, I cannot discern any gains from it for now, unless you lend it to me for a period of research,” the Pope said, though he still pushed the manuscript back to me.
I didn’t mind lending it to him for research, but the Pope’s words were clearly a formality. By returning it to me, he implied that he couldn’t decipher it either, or he didn’t want to spend his energy on it.
However, I still asked him, “Does the Pope know the decryption method for this manuscript? Even a clue would be fine.”
“I’m just guessing. This manuscript is like a mirror, reflecting the viewer’s desires and presenting them in the form of a fairytale. To unravel the mystery within, one must view the manuscript with the correct mindset as intended by the author,” the Pope said.
Ah, so the three church members earlier thought of food, and food illusions appeared. Did the crown appear on the Pope’s head because he was thinking of power?
But clearly, neither of these was the correct answer, so they gained nothing. So, what was the author’s answer?
“It’s a pity I couldn’t help the Saintess solve this problem. Does anyone else have anything to say?” the Pope asked the others again.
Everyone then exchanged opinions. I also listened in. Later, it was about the general situation and observations from various regions. After everyone had spoken freely, the meeting concluded.
I opened my eyes on the bed and saw that Jayad had returned. He was sitting by the bed, reaching out his right hand to brush away my hair. “Eek! Older Brother Jayad, what are you doing?!”
Jayad saw that his mischief was exposed and awkwardly retracted his hand. “Ahaha, I just saw Parul’s sleeping face was too cute and couldn’t help but want to tidy your hair for you.”
“It’s not cute at all!” I turned over, feeling that Jayad’s evaluations were becoming increasingly strange.
Jayad naturally understood what my actions meant. He also lay down on the bed and hugged me from behind.
“Have you showered? Don’t get into bed as soon as you get back,” I reminded him. I couldn’t stand it if he was sweaty, but sniffing, he didn’t seem to smell.
“Of course not. Thank you, Parul, for boiling the hot water for me,” Jayad said. Considering he would be back late, I had boiled bathwater for him in advance and placed it by the fireplace.
“You’re welcome. How was your work today?” I asked again.
“It was very good. The boss was unexpectedly easygoing. Not only did he agree to let me come back early, but he also doesn’t require me to work too many daytime hours. Let’s go to the countryside together tomorrow,” Jayad said.
“There’s such a good thing?” I asked incredulously. How could there be such an easygoing gangster boss?
“Ahem, of course, there are conditions. The boss asked me to do some special work,” Jayad said.
“You’re not going to sell yourself, are you?!” I asked nervously. I hope it’s not that earlier intervention was already known, that even boys could be…”
“Ah? What selling… Ah! Of course not!” Jayad was momentarily stunned by my sudden question, but he quickly realized what I was implying.
“It means he wants me to be his bodyguard, and if he needs to go out, I have to be able to go with him at any time. He also said that he might need me to fight,” Jayad said.
“So, you’re just going to be a thug?” I asked. But it seemed like it was within expectations. Seeing Jayad’s Combat Power at the tavern last time, only letting him be a bodyguard at the hotel was indeed an underutilization of his talent.
“Indeed. However, Miss Leo Man told me before she left to seize opportunities to train more. I think fighting can also be considered training, including tomorrow’s battle. Go to sleep early, Parul. Tomorrow, we still have to go fight that Black Silk Monster,” Jayad said.
“That’s very regrettable. I don’t plan to hunt the Black Silk Monster tomorrow. I’ll have to postpone it by a day,” I said.
“Ah? Why?”
