“The Wall of the Faithless?”
The information the Bishop inadvertently revealed surprised and puzzled the Outsider, who wondered if it was a religious term or if such a thing truly existed.
Xia De reached out to return the commemorative coin to Bishop Owen, but the Bishop waved his hand, not taking it.
“This is for you as a souvenir. It was originally meant to promote the Holy Prayer Festival anyway. Mr. Hamilton, you can come to Dawn Church often in the future. We have very formal sermons every week, or you can simply go to the confessional to talk about your troubles.”
He had not given up on the idea of converting Xia De.
Xia De agreed, putting the small coin into his shirt’s chest pocket to prevent it from slipping out of his coat pocket.
Bishop Owen had other things to do. After he left, Priest Augustus took Xia De away from Dawn Square to retrieve the potion, “Price of Growth.”
The Priest had a rented base outside Dawn Church for concocting potions, as it was too risky to do so inside the church.
“Priest, does the Wall of the Faithless truly exist in our world?”
Xia De asked quietly on the way, and Priest Augustus’s answer was ambiguous:
“No one has ever returned after death, so I cannot give a definitive answer. But from ancient books and documents, at least since the third era, there has been a clear mention of the ‘Wall of the Faithless.’ It is very likely that it truly exists… Detective, I remember you haven’t chosen your faith since you awakened from Blind Stupor. This won’t do…”
He slowed his pace to look at Xia De, smiling as he said the same words as Bishop Owen:
“Are you interested in learning about the faith of my Lord, the Lord of Dawn?”
If one was merely a shallow believer, there were no specific obligations to bear, not even needing to pray at the church every week. But correspondingly, if one encountered something like a haunting, the church would not provide free exorcism, nor would other church assistance be of a paid nature.
Xia De walked beside the Priest, contemplating the matter of faith.
In fact, he wasn’t sure if he could complete the path of twelve divine nature ascensions before death, so to prevent being used to patch the wall after death, and to avoid awkwardness when asked about faith in daily social interactions, choosing a deity to become a shallow believer seemed acceptable.
“I need to think about it.”
He gave his answer. There was no rush anyway. Whenever he needed to, Xia De could go to the church, buy some holy emblem ornaments to put in his home, and then verbally declare himself a believer of a righteous god.
Priest Augustus rented a basement in an apartment near Dawn Church. The landlord was an old friend of his for many years and absolutely reliable. Most of the Priest’s books, relics, various spellcasting materials, and potion-making equipment were kept in the basement.
The street was called Great Street, right next to Dawn Square. It took only about ten minutes to walk from the church entrance to the apartment’s basement.
This basement was much more spacious than Xia De’s basement, and the ceiling was also higher. Because the first floor of the apartment was actually a bit higher than the street level, the basement had a small window at the top of the wall, allowing outside sunlight to barely filter in.
Of course, it had to be closed on rainy days.
This place could basically be considered a “studio.” The Priest not only set up bottles, jars, and instruments for concocting potions here, but also had a bed and a wardrobe.
The potion “Price of Growth” and its materials were given to Xia De by the Priest in a paper bag. All the materials were stuffed into bottles, which contained a brown liquid with some suspicious flocculent substances floating in it. The bottles themselves were individually wrapped in newspaper.
This was not to prevent sun exposure, but to prevent the smell from escaping.
“I will never make this potion again; the smell is simply unbearable. Even when I was a young missionary in a rural village, I never smelled anything like this.”
When Xia De tallied the cost of the materials and handed it to the Priest, the Priest looked helpless.
Besides these matters, Xia De also drew the pattern from the bottom of the potion bottle found in the hidden space of the basement on his notepad, hoping the Priest could help identify it.
The main part of the pattern was an equilateral triangle, with a small circle connected to each of its three corners. Inside the triangle was a winged person.
“Interesting, it must be some kind of ancient symbol. I don’t recognize it.”
Priest Augustus shook his head.
“You don’t recognize it either?”
“But don’t be disappointed. Although I don’t recognize it, the church’s Library might have a record of this symbol. I can check it out, but would it be convenient for you to reveal the origin of this symbol?”
The Priest asked, and Xia De cautiously shook his head:
“Not convenient for now, but I will tell you later. Please be careful when you search. This symbol is very likely related to Ring術士, and I hope it won’t cause you any trouble.”
“It’s fine, just a small matter.”
The Priest waved his hand, and the two parted ways on the bustling street.
It was exactly eight o’clock. Xia De, carrying the paper bag, first returned to Saint Delan Square, hid the potion and the disgusting materials behind the hidden wall in the basement, and waited to try taking them into the past after midnight.
Then, after greeting Mia, who was strolling at home, he left the house again.
The lawyer entrusted by Mrs. Lemeier was named Locke Laurel. He left his business card when he visited Mrs. Lemeier, so Xia De could easily find him based on the clues on the card.
Mr. Laurel did not work at a law firm with a fixed office location; he was a licensed lawyer who provided private legal consulting. His work nature was similar to Xia De’s Detective agency, but he definitely earned more than Xia De.
This gentleman lived in the North City of Tobesk. Although the North City was generally considered the Lower City of Tobesk, the lawyer’s residence was not a slum. It was a place called Queen Mary Street, where the lawyer rented a second-floor apartment facing the street.
Xia De didn’t know anyone in this area, so he didn’t need to disguise his face when calling. After identifying the house number, he knocked on the door downstairs for a long time, but no one answered.
So he thought of knocking on the neighbor’s apartment door to ask, but then the door finally opened.
The person who opened the door was a short, stout man reeking of alcohol, wearing shorts and a striped shirt. He looked square-shaped. The hair on his arms was thicker than the beard on his wide chin, and his eyes were squinted as if unaccustomed to the morning light in the mist. When he spoke, he mumbled, making it difficult to hear clearly:
“Who are you looking for? Oh, for God’s sake, can you not knock so early?”
It wasn’t even nine o’clock yet, so it wasn’t really that early, but there was no reasoning with a drunk man.