Chapter 291: Chapter 288: The Painted Divine War and the Advent

At the end of Harold Avenue, the Inverted Church stood upside down, like a ballerina balanced on the point of its tallest spire. Its base clung firmly to the ceiling of the cavern, resembling a giant, white stalactite.

"How are we supposed to get up there?" the Dwarf asked, craning his neck back as far as it would go. There seemed to be no way to climb to the entrance.

Freddy pointed to a window on the spire, from which a dilapidated rope ladder with wooden rungs dangled down.

It clearly couldn’t support the weight of four people, even if Little Coal Ball counted as less than half an adult. To be safe, Rorschach cast the Floating Skill on everyone. They floated up, using their hands to pull themselves along the rope.

’I wonder if a spacewalk feels like this,’ Rorschach suddenly thought.

The interior wasn’t anti-gravity or upside down as Rorschach had imagined. The great bell lay tilted to one side, shattered and rusted. Fortunately, the spiral staircase within the spire was single-layered, meaning its underside was now flipped over for them to walk on.

Someone was clearly here. An oil lamp was suspended from the top of the tower (originally its base), its flame emitting a pleasant, greasy fragrance.

Singrev twitched his large nose. "Whale oil. And high-grade, too. Otherwise, it would just stink." His hometown had no shortage of products refined from whales, so he spoke with authority.

"Doesn’t that mean the door is some distance from the current floor? Be careful not to take a nasty fall." As they climbed toward the main body of the building to leave the bell tower, the poet remembered that the old ceiling was now the floor and called out a warning.

But he had overthought it. A wooden ramp had been placed just outside the door, and they carefully stepped onto it to land safely on the main floor.

The Church’s rooms and corridors were a complex maze, but everywhere else was pitch-black. Only a single path was lit by the same oil lamps, seemingly guiding any visitors.

"So gloomy. Feels just like the tombs I used to explore."

Indeed, the atmosphere was much like that of a tomb raid. Using his Dark Vision, Rorschach saw that the unlit areas were utterly dilapidated. The remains of wooden furniture and light fixtures were scattered everywhere, suggesting the Church had once been upright before being suddenly inverted, causing all its furnishings to shatter. There were also many piles of... droppings. A foul stench wafted over with a gust of wind.

"This is the territory of their kind," Little Coal Ball announced after communicating with her "subordinates." So the droppings were from bats.

They followed the path marked by the oil lamps, with the more cautious Singrev taking the lead. He kept his gun at the ready, using its muzzle to push open every door they came across. If anything nasty was lurking behind one, it would get an immediate taste of hot lead.

Freddy, however, saw no need to be as tense as Singrev. His theory was that anything capable of living in a godforsaken place like the Inverted Church was certainly not normal, and a gun would likely be useless. Besides, he found the thought of a puppet’s gun misfiring to be more startling. He stuck to using his fire poker as a walking stick.

"Paintings! We’ve reached the main hall!" the poet exclaimed, delighted to see some art, even if they were walking all over it.

Fortunately, the Church ceiling wasn’t vaulted. It seemed the Istanis had their own architectural style, but one thing remained the same: the main hall ceiling was adorned with a mural.

The spot where they stood depicted a lush island, rich with water and grass. The protagonists of the scene were Elves. Their clothes were simple, decorated with natural elements like leaves and flowers. Among them was a tall, beautiful Elf, who rested His head on one hand as He half-sat, half-lay in the crown of a giant tree, receiving the worship of the other Elves.

Humans also appeared on this land, their clothing even more rudimentary than that of the Elves. There were scenes of Elves sharing food with Humans, suggesting their relationship was amicable.

As they walked onward, the mural’s depiction shifted. Wooden boats with curved prows made landfall, and short humanoids clad in animal skins charged toward the settlements, brandishing axes and hammers. Thick smoke rose wherever they went. The flames, however, did not touch the giant tree. The worshipped Elf had His eyes closed, seemingly feigning sleep, deaf to the cries of the people below.

"Looks like the Dwarves are the villains here, huh?" Freddy, who loved to stir the pot, whistled at Singrev. "Maybe one of your ancestors is in there."

Singrev was completely unfazed. "Whatever. We’re peaceful now. Our most recent war was supposed to be against you Istanis over fishing grounds—we didn’t even want land—and it never even started." This embarrassing affair for the Royal Family’s navy had clearly not been reported in the news, so Freddy just assumed Singrev was spouting nonsense.

The images of the two warring factions changed across the mural. Both sides progressed from rough cloth and animal skins to armor, with swords, shields, bows, and arrows making their debut. The Dwarves could be seen rolling out strange contraptions, while the Elves wielded branches to summon giant trees and call large animals like bears into the fray. In the sky, there were even Flying Dragons fitted with reins.

Still sleeping, still sleeping... By this point, the giant tree had grown so tall it pierced the clouds, and the Great Elf appeared to be reclining on a bed of clouds, unable to see the world below.

The smoke of war continued to billow, but the enemy had changed. Humans wearing more sophisticated armor had joined the battle, including cavalry wielding Knight Lances in one hand and Scriptures in the other, their armor glowing with a golden light. The Human ranks consisted mainly of soldiers from the Old Empire and followers of the Church of Light and Order. Trailing behind the army were hordes of barely-clothed Human slaves, as well as strangely dressed figures holding Magic Staffs, mingled in the throng.

"Well, well, look who’s here." Now it was the Dwarf’s turn to get his own back, and he directed the rhetorical question at the poet.

Freddy shook his head. "For all you know, my ancestors were pure-blooded native Istanis."

The mural told a strong story, so much so that even the less-than-eloquent Little Coal Ball could follow it. Of course, she didn’t know that the figures painted in yellow and white represented the Order Church.

They pushed aside the fallen furniture and shattered chandeliers, eager to see what the mural depicted next.

A grand battle unfolded. A colossal, sublime Elf fought a Giant of equal size. The Giant’s face was unclear, nothing more than a blurred silhouette. Between them stood a slightly smaller female figure with deer antlers and a melancholic expression on her face. This central figure did not attack either side. At their feet, countless tiny figures fought as well, while others conducted sacrifices. The blood of both offerings and warriors drenched the land.

There were also many unidentified winged beings, some wielding heavenly fire, others commanding lightning, as they slaughtered the Flying Dragons and other flying beasts in the sky.

The sky and the land were ablaze. There were countless trees; those facing the Great Elf grew so frantically they became twisted, while those touched by the gaze of the Lord of Order burst into great fires, their tips reduced to blackened charcoal. The ground split apart, rivers overflowed their banks, and the entire island was being annihilated.

"This part is painted so crudely," Singrev remarked with a purse of his lips. The Dwarves had already exited the narrative, so he could now critique it freely. If the earlier scenes had been in a masterfully realistic style, this section was a chaotic, abstract mess.

"That’s because it’s depicting a Divine War," Rorschach said. It wasn’t hard for him to guess. The Great Golden Man was the Lord of Order, and His opponent must be the Main God of the Elves, Silvanos. Silvanos was depicted as exquisitely handsome, charming even in His rage, but His methods and power in combat were far inferior to those of the Lord of Order. ’Seems this guy completely ignored the Elves below after becoming a god,’ Rorschach thought, ’right up until the Lord of Order and the Horror Upright Apes arrived to raid his home.’

Just as in the version of history he knew, the Lord of Order and His Human Empire were victorious. An unwilling Silvanos retreated into the clouds, while the Deer-headed Goddess, who had clearly taken no part in the battle, was impaled by a Light Spear—exactly as Rorschach had seen in Deryats’s dream.

The original forests and meadows were replaced by towns and cities. The conquerors resided within them, in towering, magnificent palaces, and churches dedicated to the Lord of Order rose from the earth.

And the whip fell harshly upon the conquered. Among them were not only the Elves and the native inhabitants, but also the Human slaves who had been transported to this land.

They felt pain and despair. In the coastal villages, strange altars began to appear. And from the surface of the dark, gloomy sea, a new, great presence descended.