[Late night, Steam City Upper City]

[Gear Church, Grand Pendulum Cathedral]

Inside the cathedral, a group of clergy from the Mechanical Church knelt on prayer mats, performing their devotions. However, unlike the usual attendance of over a hundred people, the number of believers in the cathedral was significantly smaller.

After the ‘trial’ that had taken place earlier in the day, not only did the non-church members in Steam City start to harbor doubts about the Gear Church, but many within the church itself began to waver in their faith.

They weren’t concerned with the clandestine dealings between Bishop Cleve and Saintess Euphemia, who secretly controlled the Lower City. ‘Money,’ after all, was a vital tool for entering the ‘Hall of Knowledge,’ as was already annotated in the Mechanical Church’s doctrines.

What truly bothered them was the way these two treated the Silver Knight, Vivienne. A blessed and saintly person who was more devout than them ‘dullards’ at the mechanical altar. Now, instead of dying in the sacred pursuit of ‘knowledge,’ she was to die in a boring and corrupt power struggle.

For the followers of the Mechanical Church, who revered knowledge, mechanics, and reason, this was an immense humiliation and desecration. What’s more, the people doing all this were Bishop Cleve and Saintess Euphemia, the very souls considered to be closest to the ‘God of Machinery’ within the Gear Church.

If even they had their ‘reason’ corrupted by worldly desires, then what had their diligent prayers and earnest pursuit of ‘reason’ become?

Because of this, in just half a day, the Gear Church had already split into three factions.

One was the Faction of Power, led by Bishop Cleve and Euphemia.

Another was the self-organized Purification Faction, who believed the two had violated their doctrines.

The last was the Neutral Faction, led by the Golden Knight, Fischer, which supported neither side.

The ones currently praying in the Grand Pendulum Cathedral were from the Purification Faction. The highest-ranking and most powerful among them was none other than the Silver Knight, Pell, whom Bishop Cleve had recently sent to the Steam City branch to demand Vivienne from Tendo.

After completing his prayers, Pell stood up and walked silently to the great mechanical clock in the center of the cathedral. He stared at the mechanical clock, made of thousands of interlocking gears, and pulled forcefully on the pendulum connected by an alloy chain.

Dong, dong, dong!

Following the three chimes, the clergy on the prayer mats all stood up. The nuns removed their hoods and picked up their daggers. The priests unfastened their holsters and drew their steam-powered pistols.

In each of their eyes burned a ‘flame,’ a sacred flame determined to burn away all ‘impurities.’ Tonight, they would uphold their faith and purify the unholy in their own way.

But before they could even leave the cathedral, a heavy, metallic footstep echoed from outside. The believers all turned their heads in unison, and what greeted their eyes was the tall figure of a person clad in golden armor.

“Commander Fischer…”

Recognizing the man, Silver Knight Pell and the other mechanical believers in the cathedral bowed in respect. The eyes of some believers were filled with fanaticism when they looked at Fischer. Because, of the three highest-ranking individuals in the Gear Church, Fischer was not only the only one who had not betrayed his faith, but he was also the only one among them who had been to the ‘Mechanical Church Papacy’ and entered the ‘Realm of God.’

Fischer said nothing as he walked toward the group. With the fervent eyes of the crowd on him, he calmly walked up to Pell and said, “Pell, you’ve crossed a line.”

“Crossed a line?” Pell lifted his head abruptly, his silver helmet’s visor snapping open to reveal a face flushed with emotion. “The Knights Templar are meant to protect the faith, not be watchdogs for power struggles!”

“That is their concern.”

Without giving Pell a chance to continue, Fischer coldly interrupted him. “The Knights Templar are a tool of the central authority, and a tool… does not need to have its own thoughts.”

“Therefore, no one has the right to act against the Bishop or the Saintess until the central authority gives the order.”

“Even if their actions desecrate our doctrine?”

“You do not have the power to define the doctrine.”

Hearing this, Pell’s mouth hung open as he tried to object several times. But when he met Fischer’s cold and rational eyes, he ultimately swallowed his words and knelt.

“Yes, my respected Commander Fischer, I understand.”

Seeing that Pell had understood and corrected his mistake in time, Fischer turned around, ready to tell the other believers to stop their actions, which were a clear ‘violation of established procedure.’

But just then, a whooshing sound came from behind him. It was the unique, ear-piercing screech of a steam-powered sawblade.

Fischer didn’t turn his head. His left hand shot back like lightning, gripping the teeth of the sawblade with perfect precision. The sharp teeth cut against his golden gauntlet, sparking as they were mercilessly deflected by his armor.

Fischer turned around, his face calm, bathed in the flying sparks. He said, “Pell, you have fallen.”

“Fallen?”

Pell laughed maniacally as if he had just heard a joke. “The ones who have fallen are those two parasites who use ‘power’ to desecrate ‘faith,’ and you, the foolish believer who watches the doctrine being trampled and does nothing!”

“Purification! Whether it’s you or those two, they all must be purified!”

“Purification?” Fischer tilted his head slightly, a cold light glinting from the slits of his helmet. “With your soul, which has lost its ‘reason’ and is filled with anger?”

“Listen, Fischer! Listen to the roar of the machine-spirit inside me! It’s conveying its fury toward you traitors!” Pell shouted hysterically, the steam engine in his chest roaring from being overloaded.

With that, Pell increased the force in his hand, trying to break free of Fischer’s grip and bring down his sacred purification upon this incorrigible fool. But his so-called roar of the machine-spirit could not make up for the huge disparity in strength between him and Fischer.

Bang!

Without any fancy moves, Fischer simply raised a fist and smashed it into Pell’s faceplate.

Crunch!

Pell’s silver helmet shattered like an eggshell. A large amount of dark red blood mixed with brain matter splattered around the cathedral, staining the mural depicting the God of Machinery’s creation.

A moment later, Pell’s headless body fell to the ground with a thud. The steam-powered sawblade in his hand continued to spin until the last bit of steam had vented out.

Fischer shook the blood from his fist, and the blood on his golden armor was washed clean by steam at a visible speed. After doing all this, he looked at Pell’s corpse, his tone completely flat.

“A corrupted soul like yours, consumed by ’emotion,’ cannot hear the voice of the machine-spirit.”

With that, Fischer turned back to face the others in the cathedral. He had assumed that without Pell as their leader, the rest would quickly regain their ‘reason.’ However, he had underestimated the strength of their ‘faith’ and the extent to which they had been corrupted by ’emotion.’

Not only were they unafraid of him, but they slowly began to rise to their feet.

“It seems the number of people who need to be purified… has grown.”

I handpick only the finest and most captivating novels for you. Don’t forget to check out my other novels!

p@treon HongMengZi

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep