First came a pleasant surprise.

Just like On the Origin of Species, Earth's Face is a grimoire whose Spells require no extra conditions to cast.

After Ronald pulled it out of the enemy's body and read through it.

The ownership of this grimoire formally shifted into his hands.

Ronald accepted it, letting the grimoire turn into a sigil and hide upon his right hand.

What was rather interesting was that the sigil of Earth's Face was a miniaturized, simplified image of the Earth. The instant Ronald saw it, a wave of homesickness and nostalgia welled up in his heart.

By contrast, look at the Caster from the Nine Commandments Conclave, whose grimoire he had just extracted.

Although the man's consciousness had already been drawn out of his body by the Spell of the Divine Comedy.

Under the inherent agony of the grimoire extraction itself, his body was still convulsing nonstop and breaking out in cold sweat, making those basic, purely physiological responses to pain.

"First of all, he's the enemy."

Ronald reminded himself inwardly. He would not spare the man—this had been decided from the very beginning, beyond any doubt.

But when he thought of how this Caster had fought just now.

In this moment, Ronald still chose to grant him a last small mercy.

He waited a few more seconds, and only when the man's body had more or less stopped twitching did he command the Hell black fog to return his consciousness.

"Ah… ah! Aaaah!"

What followed was a cry of pain.

Even though Ronald had given him time to ease the suffering, the lingering sensations in his body were still tormenting this former grimoire bearer. The pain he could not suppress spilled out as instinctive screams that carried to everyone nearby.

Yet the physical pain could not hide his spiritual collapse.

Ronald saw the wooden, bewildered look in his eyes.

He had been a grimoire wielder, after all.

Once his consciousness returned, he naturally realized at once that the grimoire he had possessed was gone without a trace.

Faced with such a cruel reality.

The anguish in his heart was probably several times worse than what his body had just endured.

"..."

"All right, sir, I have questions for you now."

Very soon, Ronald's commanding voice—laden with word spirit power—rang out again.

At this moment, the Caster of the Nine Commandments Conclave had lost the grimoire that backed him, his standing plummeting by more than a step.

On top of that came the twin blows to Spirit and flesh brought on by losing the grimoire.

He mounted almost no meaningful resistance as Ronald's word spirit invaded his mind, then seized complete control of his heart, reducing him to a puppet that only knew how to passively answer questions.

Ronald let out a faint sigh, then began his interrogation:

"Tell me, what did your people discover in these ruins?"

The Caster of the Nine Commandments Conclave replied in a dull tone:

"During the first exploration, our people found four grimoires here, along with historical records from before the Dark Age, and transported them to headquarters. The president then selected elites to distribute them."

This point matched the information Ronald had previously obtained.

So he pressed on:

"You got four grimoires the first time. So this time you came for other grimoires?"

The Caster under word spirit control shook his head, explaining without the slightest resistance:

"That's not the only reason."

"The first exploration was insufficiently prepared, and the excavation of the ruins beneath our island was incomplete. So this time they specifically chose someone like me, whose Spell is suited to excavation work, to come and break through the areas that couldn't be cracked last time, in order to launch a brand-new round of excavation."

This grimoire, Earth's Face, was indeed highly advantageous for such excavation work, especially given the island environment.

Ronald thought carefully, confirming that the enemy's account in front of him was accurate.

And thinking further, the Casters who had appeared on this island this time all shared one trait: they were powerful. But beyond that, each of their Spells had its own unique effect on excavating ruins—they were specialist Casters adept at this sort of work.

Ronald's surprise assault on the island and complete annihilation of them.

Beyond the soundness of his decision-making, he had actually benefited quite a bit from this particular advantage.

Having reached a conclusion in his mind, Ronald continued:

"In that case, what concrete results have you achieved in this operation?"

The Caster of the Nine Commandments Conclave shook his head:

"None at all. We hadn't been on the island long this time; everything was still in the preparation stage. Then your surprise attack disrupted all our arrangements, so we gained nothing else."

In just a few exchanges, Ronald had already gotten answers to his main questions.

But considering his own interest in history, as well as the strange nun of unknown origin nearby, Ronald decided to ask one more thing before ending the interrogation:

"You said just now that during the first survey you found historical records of the past here, right? Tell me in detail."

Under the control of word spirit magic, the Caster of the Nine Commandments Conclave held nothing back:

"According to the information we obtained, this island was a chapel established overseas by a Saint of the Church before the Dark Age. At that time, before each generation of clerical and saintly office-bearers took up their posts, they had to come here to perform the relevant rites. Only then could they go to the then Holy Capital to receive the radiance of God."

Hearing this, Ronald was already feeling utterly baffled. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

He had once read quite a number of secret texts in the Church's hidden archives, yet terms like the Holy Capital and an overseas chapel founded by a Saint were completely unheard of.

More importantly, these were clearly terms of considerable weight, the kind that pointed to some heavy piece of information.

Fortunately, Ronald was not alone.

As confusion appeared on his face, Costate, sensing his master's puzzlement, stepped forward to explain:

"Sir, the Holy Capital is a very ancient term."

"At the end of the Witch Hunting Era, their Holy Capital was destroyed by the counterattacking Wizards. The remaining clergy, led by a Saint of that time, departed from the south and migrated north all the way, finally reaching the continent of Rato Gioia, where they rebuilt the Church's current organizational system."

After explaining the term Holy Capital, Costate added deliberately:

"For various reasons, that information was long ago abandoned."

"I only managed to obtain such secret news because Wizards in the late Dark Age frequently exchanged information."

Costate's words quickly set Ronald thinking.

He even formed entirely new conjectures and ideas about the ruins beneath his feet and the nun sitting on the ground resting nearby.

"Migrated to the northern continent… the Holy Capital… the chapel where they received baptism…"

These terms interwove in his mind, forming different possibilities.

Ronald stood up as well.

He looked at the Caster still under word spirit control, showing no desire at all to break free.

Letting out a quiet sigh, Ronald pronounced his final judgment:

"That's enough. I've finished my questions."

"Costate, give him a quick end."