The past few days had been some of the calmest Jonah had spent in the headquarters of the Church in what felt like a long time.
The aftermath of the failure of the Bishop's grand plan had actually been anticlimactic. While he had smiled in the darkness, the rest had only been able to sit there as if struck by lightning, and by the time someone flipped on the lights, the Bishop had disappeared.
Since then, he hadn't seen her anywhere. He had tried finding her whereabouts, but all he got were half-answers. Some said that she had been summoned by the Saints of the Church to review the status level given to his home, and others said that she had actually gone into debt to obtain the resources needed to send that party. If so, it was possible that she was returning the favors she had taken, as the entire Church was now of the opinion that she would soon fail.
With her confidante still recovering in the medical bay, he had been left to his own devices. Jonah hadn't been wasting his time: knowing that this brief period of freedom would come to an end as soon as one of them reappeared, he had been going around collecting as much information as possible. By now, he already knew all of the details of the army that was going to be sent to Angaria, along with the weaknesses and strengths of its most powerful members and squadrons. He had even spent countless hours in the library where he rooted out the ancient tactics used by tough continents to oppose the war weapons of the Church, and after building a complete collection of knowledge that he felt was definitely important enough to turn the tide of the battle if he was able to transmit it to his disciple, he had been hunting for a way to do so.
Alas, in this, he had only been met by failure after failure. All methods of communication to the outside were strictly being monitored, and this was even more so the case with methods of extreme long-range communication, which were necessary if he wished to send something to Angaria. The Bishop had already taken away the method he had been using before, so he had been left with a treasure that was worthless in his hands.
Standing in one of the highest balconies of the headquarters which was able to be accessed by those of his rank, he kept going over all of the information while attempting to perceive it from Daneel's perspective. All he knew about the continent was only how it had been when he had left it, but even though he kept adding in all sorts of incredible developments that he was sure his disciple must be capable of, it kept coming up short.
He had also thought a lot about how it had been possible for Daneel to escape the trap. After asking around later, he had found out that the power of the detonation should have been enough to kill even those half a step beyond the Hero realm, but somehow, Daneel had survived it. Had it been a clone that had been sent to fight the battle? Or was there something else that none of them were seeing?
The answer behind this was clearly important enough that the Saints, themselves, had been called upon to judge the situation, and once again, he was tempted to go to where they were meeting.
This particular meeting room was known to all: it was the second-highest room in the entire headquarters, located in the mind of the gigantic statue of St. Rectitude. It was said that one would be able to look over the entire Mainland if they stood in front of its window, so in times of war, all-important personnel gathered there to have an overview of everything around them while they discussed their next steps.
For the umpteenth time since yesterday, he began to weigh his options. He had wasted all of the day before, and he was determined not to let today pass in the same manner. Should he risk it all to get a glimpse of what they might be planning? Or was it foolishness to even think of doing so, as the wrath of Saints was well-known?
He kept thinking for an hour with the chilly breeze of the Mainland on his face, and finally, he came to a decision.
What was the worst that could happen? At most, there would be more torture… But hadn't he already gotten accustomed to it?
It was possible that he might get a chance to send all the information, and when that happened, wouldn't he regret this moment where he had wasted a chance to get some more valuable information which might be worth more than everything that he had collected so far?
Letting out a sigh and preparing himself for the agony that he would definitely have to greet again like an old friend before the end of the day, Jonah walked back inside the statue and began to ascend.
It took an hour for him to get to the level in which the room was present. On the way, he had been stopped multiple times, but the lie that he had been summoned by the Bishop was enough for him to be sent forward.
Many of the guards who questioned him had looked at him oddly until he told them his name, following which those eyes had become filled with pity. This made him wonder more and more about just what the Bishop was being subjected to, so with mounting curiosity, he approached the large wooden door of the meeting room of the Saints.
It was so big that a giant even 10 feet tall would be able to walk through without bending his head, and for a moment, he was stymied as he didn't know how to get past this final barrier.
There was no one near to ask him why he was here. All that was present was the gentle thrum of powerful magic from the barriers that were laid on top of the doors, and for a few seconds, Jonah hesitated as he was unsure whether he would be turned to ash if he was brave enough, or foolish enough to knock.
Finally, building up the courage, he raised his hand, but before he could move it forward, the door opened just enough to let him through.
Knowing that thinking at this juncture would make him want to turn back and run away, he gulped and walked inside.
There were three people seated around a table, all of whom turned towards him when he entered.
He met the eyes of the bishop first, where the first thing he noticed was how bloodshot they were, as if she was filled with rage that she could not show on anyone.
Next, he turned to the right to see that there was a lady seated there. She was the first woman he had seen yet who was not wearing the traditional robes of the Church. Dressed in a ravishing crimson gown with a slit down the middle that showed more of her body than it covered, she looked at him with interest with one finger tapping her chin.
It was when Jonah looked at the last individual in the room that everything changed.
He was an old man, hunched over the table with his long beard resting on it. He only half-turned his head to Jonah, but the gaze of the eye that he met was enough to make fear spring up in each and every part of his body.
He began to sweat all over without understanding why he was afraid. There was no overwhelming force, or dangerously destructive power that he felt. Still…it was as if something had convinced his mind that he would soon die, and hence, it was reacting in the only way it knew.
"So this is the one you told us about? Let me see."
His voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, and unlike his frail body, it was strong and hale.
This was when he turned his head fully…and Jonah felt himself lose control of his consciousness.
How…was this possible?
In front of his eyes, he saw the old man effortlessly enter his mind, which was supposed to be protected from all outer forces. He began to casually flip through his memories, starting from those in Angaria, and when he reached those pertaining to Jonah's wife and son who had been killed, he finally mustered enough strength to mount a counter-attack.
Only…the moment he tried to push the old man out, his consciousness was once again brushed by the same all-pervading force that had entered it before. It gave an undeniable order, and heeding it, Jonah thrust his hand inside his groin.
The pain stopped all other efforts that he might have made to make the old man leave. After a few seconds, he was done, and of course, by that time, he had seen each and every thing Jonah had done until now.
With dazed eyes, he looked up at the room, and as the old man spoke, his words made Jonah wonder how he could ever have gotten the idea to underestimate Saints, and come here to offer himself up on a platter.
"You're right; there isn't much I could learn from him, but his thoughts on his disciple are quite interesting. Regardless, this is certainly a curious continent, but at this stage, we cannot divert any more resources. Use everything you've already been given. But take this with you…I will be able to keep an eye on everything, and if that little kid does have something he shouldn't, we can surprise him together. Bishop Emilia, you may leave."