Alex seemed to realize something and quickly turned his head, only to see the knife-wielding ghost hand slowly disappear into the void. What remained in its place, however, was a corpse with a sharp knife piercing through its chest.
The identity of the corpse was Berlan!
Alex's heart tightened. Perhaps the ghost hand had not meant to kill him at all; perhaps killing him would have been merely incidental, as the real goal was to kill Berlan!
Alex, with a somewhat dazed expression, walked over and approached Berlan's corpse.
Although Berlan had just tried to kill him, Alex had never wished for Berlan's death.
No matter what, Berlan had saved him and had taken him in. Even if Alex was cold-hearted, he had never forgotten the gratitude owed for his life being saved.
That was why, even knowing that Berlan intended to brainwash him with the Holy Scripture, Alex still spent a great deal of time each day reading and reciting the meaningless regulations of the Holy Scripture.
This was Alex's way of repaying Berlan's kindness.
Alex thought that one day, he would pretend to be the brainwashed version of himself that Berlan hoped to see, and consider it as repaying Berlan's debt.
But unexpectedly, Berlan was dead before that day came.
Alex looked at Berlan's corpse with a complex gaze, remaining silent for a long time.
Finally, in the brilliant noon sunshine, Alex kneeled on the ground and gently closed Berlan's wide-open eyes, softly mumbling the Dead's Rite chapter from the Holy Scripture.
It seemed he wanted to use this familiar act to send Berlan off on his final journey.
Angel watched from a distance as the white-haired youth, every detail of his movements infused with grace and sanctity, seemed to be enveloped in a layer of light.
Anyone who saw Alex in that moment would not doubt his identity as a priest.
However, as Alex himself said: Clergy was only a superficial profession; deep inside, one could be anything.
The person he had in mind when he said that was actually Berlan, but the statement was equally true of himself.
A man who radiated holiness from inside out. Yet his core might be a dark, desolate wasteland.
However, Angel was certain that, at that moment, Alex's devout prayers were genuine.
This was Alex's way of expressing his feelings for Berlan.
After Alex finished reciting the Dead's Rite from the Holy Scripture, he stood up, walked over to Angel's side, “It seems that I've botched this conversation,” he said.
Alex's white hair, perhaps blown by the wind or perhaps it had a will of its own, fell down, looking both pitiable and amusing.
A pair of hands reached out and ruffled Alex's white hair.
Alex was stunned. Although Angel appeared to be only slightly older than him, the affectionate gesture more appropriate for an elder didn't seem quite right.
Alex furrowed his brow, about to resist.
But when he looked up, his eyes suddenly froze. Standing before him was not Angel, but Father Berlan with a complex expression.
Alex turned his head in confusion to look at the corpse he had been performing the Dead's Rite over.
It still lay there, its wound still bleeding profusely.
But why was there another Father Berlan in front of him?
He hesitated for a moment, then looked towards Angel floating in mid-air, who gave him a smile and raised an eyebrow, “I said I would help you with anything that could help me confirm the location,” Angel remarked.
Father Berlan obviously knew something.
If Angel could save Alex, saving Father Berlan would not be difficult either.
Alex glanced once more at the body on the ground and then at Father Berlan in front of him, finally coming to an Enlightenment.
The body was an Illusion created by Angel, while the man before him was real.