Ye Qiu understood that the *Holy Light Scripture* was a supreme text, and the nine nations’ experts were attacking the Vatican to seize it.
“How long has this scripture been with the Vatican?” Ye Qiu asked.
“For over a hundred years,” the Prophet replied.
Ye Qiu frowned. “If it’s been over a hundred years, why are the nine nations attacking now?”
The Prophet explained, “Over the years, countless experts coveted the scripture, but the Pope killed them all. We could handle one or two King Realm experts, but who could’ve predicted that nine nations’ experts would unite? They’ve been in seclusion for years, yet they banded together for the *Holy Light Scripture*. It’s despicable.”
She continued, “The nine experts fear I’ll destroy the scripture, so they’ve trapped me here. Half our disciples are dead or injured, some escaped, others were captured. They’re using the captives’ lives to force me to hand over the scripture. If I don’t, they kill ten disciples daily.”
Her eyes blazed with anger. “If giving them the scripture would make them leave, I’d do it without hesitation. Compared to the disciples’ lives, the scripture means nothing. But I know their goal isn’t just the scripture. They want to wipe out the Holy See entirely. Even if I surrender it, they won’t spare the disciples. They’ll slaughter without restraint.”
Ye Qiu nodded, agreeing with her analysis.
The Prophet glanced at him. “You got my message?”
Her words sparked his irritation. “You sent me a distress text without a name. I had people trace it, only to find it’s an international number. If Elder Tang hadn’t informed me, I wouldn’t have known you were in trouble.”
Ye Qiu said, “There are too many experts outside. I can only use the Qimen Dunjia technique to get you out.”
“What about the disciples?” the Prophet asked.
“I can’t save them,” Ye Qiu said. “You know the situation better than I do. With my strength, I can only save you. I can’t manage the others.”
The Prophet knew he spoke the truth. Nine King Realm experts and twenty to thirty thousand armed fighters surrounded them. One man couldn’t save everyone.
After a moment’s thought, she said, “Ye Qiu, thank you.”
She stood on tiptoe, kissed his cheek lightly, and said, “I’m grateful you came. Now go.”
Ye Qiu’s expression changed. “What do you mean?”
“The Pope died protecting the disciples,” she said. “If I leave with you, they’ll die. I can’t go. I must stay with them, live or die together.”
She handed him the jade bottle. “Take the scripture. You can cultivate it yourself. If you meet surviving Vatican disciples later and deem them worthy, please pass it on to preserve our legacy.”
Ye Qiu wanted to curse her.
I came all this way to save you, and now that I can, you’re giving up? What a fool.
The Prophet gazed at him tenderly. “The luckiest thing in my life was meeting you. But our fate ends here.”
“I…”
Footsteps echoed outside the chamber.
The Prophet’s face paled. “Ye Qiu, go!”
He didn’t move.
“Go, if they find you, it’ll be trouble,” she urged, pushing him.
Ye Qiu stayed put.
He considered knocking her out and carrying her off.
Then, an aged laugh came from outside. “Prophet, don’t dream of escaping. With so many experts here, you can’t get away. Hand over the *Holy Light Scripture*. And to the friend from China, since you’re here, don’t hide. Come out.”
The speaker’s fluent Chinese was as polished as a broadcaster’s.
Ye Qiu was surprised. He’d been discovered?
The Prophet signalled him to leave.
The voice spoke again. “If I’m not mistaken, Prophet, your Chinese friend is Ye Qiu, the War God of the Nation, famed Medical Saint, right? Prophet, a friend from afar is a joy. Bring him out. If you keep hiding, our patience may run out, and we won’t be lenient.”
The Prophet kept signalling for Ye Qiu to flee.
Ye Qiu sighed inwardly.
He’d hoped to rescue her unnoticed, but he’d underestimated the nine experts. They not only knew someone had entered but also his identity.
Saving her wouldn’t be easy.
“Prophet, if you don’t come out, I’ll come in,” the voice said.
“Go,” the Prophet whispered.
Ye Qiu grabbed her hand. “We’re going out.”
“You can’t. It’s dangerous,” she protested.
Before she could finish, Ye Qiu kicked open the chamber door and pulled her out.
He saw two men outside—the bearded elders in white robes and black veils from the main gate.
They smiled at Ye Qiu like old friends.
“Who invited me out? Nice Chinese,” Ye Qiu said, grinning.
The left elder chuckled, “We all speak Chinese.”
“Is that so? Looks like our nation’s rise has made Chinese popular worldwide,” Ye Qiu said, smiling. “How should I address you?”
“You can call me Paul,” the left elder said.
“I’m Carl,” the right elder said coldly.
“Greetings,” Ye Qiu said. “I hear there are other experts here. Where are they?”
“They’re handling other matters, so they entrusted us to meet you,” Paul said, smiling. “Mr. Ye, frankly, this is between us and the Vatican. Please don’t interfere.”
Ye Qiu grinned, “And if I insist?”
