Chapter 18: Atheist Hell

“So…”

Duoluosa leaned cautiously toward Liang Lai, resting her forehead on her shoulder.
She’d made her choice: to stay by Liang Lai’s side forever.

It was strange.
Years of “brainwashing” had fueled her desire for revenge.
Yet, in just half a month with Liang Lai, that resolve crumbled.
She was smart enough to know she’d been used as a pawn by others, just as she’d used them for her own vengeance.

But meeting Liang Lai changed everything.

Her actions felt meaningless now.
She craved the security, the care, the love Liang Lai offered.

This must be… love.

The thought startled her.

Love?

She didn’t understand love.
No one had taught her.
She’d only read the word in books, heard it from others’ lips.

Did she love Liang Lai?

Duoluosa didn’t know.

“Forget it,” she muttered, comforting herself.
“Some things I can’t figure out right away.”

Liang Lai wasn’t asleep.
She listened to Duoluosa’s murmurs.
After the girl drifted off, she sighed softly.

Kids have so many worries…
She’d been a child once, too, and knew their burdens well.
Time smoothed those memories, making her laugh at her younger self’s struggles.

Liang Lai placed her hand gently on Duoluosa’s head.

“Sleep peacefully.”

She slipped out of bed.

This body needed little rest to recover its strength.
Her priority now was mastering her crystallization ability.

That day, she’d unleashed a fraction of her power unintentionally.
Yet, she felt no exhaustion, despite books warning that overuse caused fatigue.
Instead, she felt relief, like “rain after a drought.”

Was it because I hadn’t used my crystallization in so long?
My body felt… unburdened?

It wasn’t clear.

Liang Lai tiptoed to the door, opened it softly, and slipped out with a nimble step.

“Better spend the day in the study.”

She descended the stairs, heading for her study.

Beyond her crystallization, she’d learned much about this world’s church hierarchy.

In simple terms:

T0 Tier: The Pope, sole occupant, wears a golden robe and resides in the Papal Chamber (the White Tower).
The current Pope, Alphonse VII, has broken-crystal-shaped pupils and hears oracles directly.

T1 Tier: The Triune Council, appointed by the Pope, wear silver robes.

• Discipline Master: Wields the screaming Hammer of Truth.
• Sacrifice Master: Manages the “Living Bible” that consumes sinners.
• Watch Master: Eyes encased in Saint Quartz, seeing the future.

T2 Tier: Two groups.

• Crimson Bishops: 13 members in red robes, enforce the “blood law” with ruby-studded daggers, carving laws into their palms.
• Saintesses: 13 members, including Liang Lai, in white veils.
  They perform daily tasks and, monthly, write oracles on the “Throne of Thorns,” a seat that pierces flesh with thorns.

T3 Tier: Three groups.

• Blue Robe Tribunal: 30 members, carry “Scales of Truth” with feathers that manifest when weighing sinners’ souls.
• Priests: 30 members, divided into:
  • White Robes (Choir): Singing heals wounds but erases memories.
  • Gray Robes (Inquisitors): Devour a lock of the accused’s hair to pass judgment.
  • Black Robes (Gravediggers): Oversee moving graves of penitents.
• Clerics: 56 members, wear crosses.
  Their prayers form tangible “chains of penance” (silver-white chains) on sinners.
  They manage the “soul ledger,” tracking sins and piety.
  If sins reach a threshold, clerics send believers to the “Well of Atonement,” a bottomless, whispering well.

T4 Tier: Two groups.

• Green-Robed Priests: 111 members, manage the “Cloister of Confessions,” living, breathing buildings.
• Nuns: 555 members, wear habits, hair concealed.
  They chant in the “Lightless Sanctuary” to sustain the Vatican’s faith and record confessions in the “Book of Sins” with “blood ink.”

Then came the “Nursery,” revealing Duoluosa’s origins.

Abandoned girls are raised there.
Those with exceptional talent become “preparatory nuns.”
Others become ordinary believers or, if pure enough, “Saintess candidates.”
Each year, a “sacrificial infant”—often more than one, born of church scandals—is sent to the Underground Sanctuary, never to return.

Liang Lai might have accepted this hierarchy if not for the Dustfolk’s misery.
Their sunken cheeks and dull eyes haunted her.
If believers suffered so, how much worse was it for atheists?

Atheists, exiled to harsh borderlands with little “light and honey,” were left to fend for themselves.
The Church’s exile was a death sentence.

“Sigh~”

Liang Lai sighed softly.

She reached her study and approached her desk but didn’t sit.

Yesterday, while cleaning, she’d knocked over a vase.
Among the spilled soil, she found an unmarked book.

As a transmigrator, she recognized its significance.
She opened it to find the original owner’s handwriting.
Glancing around to ensure privacy, she hid it in a locked drawer.

She sensed something extraordinary lay within.