The villa was cleverly situated directly behind the church, outside the bounds of the tourist area below, making it apparent at a glance that this was a true residential building. Positioned near the foot of the mountain, it boasted an unobstructed view.
"The arrangements are quite good, likely newly constructed..."
York scanned the surroundings, lifting all restrictions on the holographic map. In his view, Father Diego and the others had boarded the bus, preparing to leave.
Within a radius of three hundred meters, there was neither malice nor evil presence.
"It seems I really am in for a very peaceful time."
Watching Eileen and the others move about inside the villa, York casually sat on a bench on the street, enjoying the landscape of pure white snow. He pulled out his phone to make a call.
Both the Kingdom of Norway and the Vatican were in the same time zone, and this time coincided with mealtime there, a time he had planned to call because Bishop Cecil usually dined with the old man—it was their habit.
Of course, York had once shared that table, so he was familiar with their routines.
"York?"
The call connected quickly.
"It's me." Listening to the familiar voice, York leaned back on the bench, gazing at the snow-covered scenery that looked exceptionally beautiful, and spoke gently, "Bishop Cecil."
A few passing tourists cast curious glances but continued on their way.
"Is there something?" Bishop Cecil's manner was as usual, befitting the old man's chief aide.
"Yes." York squinted his eyes slightly.
"I have a question for you, is the old man awake?"
As he spoke, at the other end in the Vatican, in a room, Bishop Cecil glanced at Gregory, who was in front of him.
Gregory smiled, picking up a warm bowl of tonic soup and then shook his head.
"No." Bishop Cecil spoke plainly: "But the doctor's reports are very positive."
"Oh, is that so." York also smiled, "It seems the medicine I brought back is not bad. Alright, as long as the old man is well, I can be at ease. Once I'm done with things in the Kingdom of Norway, I'll come back to see him because I have other methods to wake him. Until then, I'll rely on you, Bishop Cecil."
Bishop Cecil instinctively glanced at Gregory, who smiled, and replied calmly.
"You don't need to tell me that, but I'm curious, York, what method have you found?"
"A secret,"
York chuckled: "I'm hanging up, Bishop Cecil. Enjoy your meal."
The sound of the call ending came from Bishop Cecil's side. He put down his phone on the table and looked at Gregory.
"It seems the kid has sensed something fishy," Gregory chuckled.
"He probably knows I'm awake."
Bishop Cecil nodded in agreement.
"But what of it? He can't stop us." Gregory placed the soup bowl on the table, smiling.
"After all, our intentions and starting points are for his benefit, and that is also the kid's only weakness."
Bishop Cecil fell silent for a moment: "What if York stops addressing the world's rifts? The situation could revert to how it was before."
Gregory shook his head: "He won't. All of York's personal ties are here; he grew up here, matured here, this is his home."
He continued, somewhat reflectively: "You haven't been into the rifts; you don't understand that feeling. My experience was like yours, but after entering the rifts and returning, my perception here... changed entirely."
Bishop Cecil quietly regarded the old man.
"What feeling?"
"In the rifts, you feel utterly alone, no sense of familiarity, a very distinct sense of isolation." The old man spoke calmly.
"After returning, this world beneath my feet is my home."
...
York did not understand the conversation of the two old men at the dining table; he simply put away his phone and, seizing a moment of solitude, willed into existence.
A scroll emitting a faint glow suddenly appeared and floated in front of him out of thin air.
This scroll was none other than the one given to him by Belial, one of the legendary seven princes of Hell, representing one of the seven deadly sins: sloth.
"According to Belial, signing and using this scroll could control death or save lives. It was intended for the old man, but now it seems it might not be needed."
York watched the slowly rotating scroll, considering using the same trick he used on Lucifer, casually filling in one of his two names to use this scroll.
The risk was being scrutinized by the master of the seventy-two demons, that six-star grand sorcerer, who, like Lucifer, continually sought his past life across the dimensions of Earth.
Being targeted by that sorcerer was like having a sword hanging over his head.
York gazed at the continuously rotating scroll
before him and, noticing a passerby, waved his hand to dispel the scroll and stood up to head towards the villa.
Suddenly, a person he had assumed was Asian or of Asian descent spoke in a language he understood.
"."
"So tired, let's go back to the hotel and rest."
"Yeah, let's rest first, and tomorrow we'll take the Flåm mountain railway."
"Sure, do you guys want to come to my room for a drink? I bought this wine at the GIR distillery."
"."
York's heart, usually calm, stirred again at hearing his native language, not a language learned but one ingrained in his bones, Chinese.
Because of this, despite having a holographic map, York couldn't help but turn to look back.
There were three girls wrapped in thick coats, with earmuffs clamped over their heads, holding various items that looked like local souvenirs, and all had rosy cheeks, seemingly unaccustomed to Norway's cold climate or perhaps because they were excited from playing.
His glance also made the three girls walking toward the hotel look over, and seeing his attire, their faces showed surprise.
Rarely encountering someone from his homeland, sharing the same blood, and grown under the five-starred red flag, York nodded to them, silently wishing them a pleasant time.
Seeing York's gesture, the girls looked at each other and also nodded in response.
York smiled and turned away.
The three girls paused, watching him leave. The shortest among them, who looked like she was still in high school, nudged the others and said.
"Wow, that's the first time I've seen such a robust and tall foreigner, but isn't that the robe priests wear? It looks like the ones I've seen, Yue Xuan, you know about this stuff, right?"
The middle and the girl on the left turned to look at the girl on the right?
The suddenly addressed girl was the tallest, even a thick coat couldn't hide her slim and balanced figure, and under her smooth brown hair was a face with glasses, watching the departing figure with a twinkle in her eyes.
"He's not a priest," Li Yue Xuan shook her head.
"I saw it very clearly, his robe is the same style as a priest's, but the color along the seams is wrong, it's purple and gold."
The other two girls were a bit confused.
But Li Yue Xuan withdrew her gaze and walked on.
The remaining two hurried to keep up: "You're being cryptic at a time like this! Tell us, what's his status!"
"Probably a bishop?"
"A bishop? Really? The bishops I've seen are all old men, and he looks so young!"
"I don't know then! If you say he isn't, then he isn't."
"."
This conversation reached York's ears as he walked, glancing down at his robe.
Indeed, although his robe was in the style of a priest's, the actual arrangement along the seams was different.
"Indeed, the bishop's robe doesn't suit me; I should go back to wearing the usual priest's robe."
York remembered the curious glances from those who had gotten off the bus, shook his head, and sighed.
"Ever since I was elevated to bishop, I've always been mixed up with the old man.
I don't want to become some old coot."
However, in a world where strength prevails, clerics who ascend to the episcopal rank have typically weathered various storms and passed tests of time, assuring their strength.
Thus, bishops are usually older, and he indeed was the youngest among them.
"It seems I've set a record."
York thought about various things, finding himself already at the villa's front gate.
Looking up at the lit front yard, according to the holographic map, Eileen and the others had already sorted out the rooms, though Alesia and Hannah were still mixed up, both lying together on a big bed in one room, sound asleep.
Lately, perhaps because he had been too intense, Hannah had been making quite the noise, and Alesia had been sticking with Hannah all this time, inseparable, which made it difficult for him to do anything.
"They really don't understand!"
Seeing Alesia holding Hannah and sleeping soundly, York muttered to himself and pushed open the gate to the front yard.
What met his eyes was a very standard front yard, filled with the romance and tranquility of the Nordics, almost completely covered by pristine white snow, with a lawn underneath.
Actually, what troubled him was just this; while the lawn looked nice, it actually required time for maintenance. Otherwise, due to the soil, the growth wasn't uniform across areas, becoming messy and increasing the number of insects if not taken care of.
What pleased him was that there was a storage room in one corner of the front yard, and the design was also decent, simple and elegant, without over-decoration.
York walked in, pulling the gate closed
behind him, walking along the cleared path towards the villa.
Pushing open the main door, he saw Eileen, John Wick, and Hili, his deacons, all in the first-floor living room.
Seeing their gazes, York glanced at John Wick and Hili, who were holding their suitcases, and raised an eyebrow.
"Have you not sorted out the rooms yet?"
Eileen glanced at Hili, who was grinning sheepishly, "Bishop, they'll be staying in the outer house."
York turned to John Wick.
"Besides this villa, Father Diego prepared another house?"
John Wick nodded: "Just next door, only six meters away."
York's gaze widened as he saw the house John Wick was referring to.
It was a similarly sized villa, complete with all essentials.
"Bishop, as you know, I have many research ideas yet to be completed," Hili said, watching his bishop's expression and speaking softly.
"I need more space for my research and to store my equipment."
John Wick's gaze shifted away, adding his reason in a low voice.
"The equipment you gave me also requires a lot of space to store."
Their looks exchanged, making York clearly understand, yet he couldn't help but laugh at their avoidance.
Was it his problem? Did he want to live with women? Women stuck to him wherever he went; what could he do?
"Get going," York said with a laugh.
"Yes! Bishop!"
Hili jerked, saluted, then grabbed his suitcase and headed straight for the door.
He had been waiting just to get his bishop's approval, otherwise, he wouldn't have stayed here this long.
John Wick appeared calm, but his actions were almost as quick as Hili's; without a word, he gave York a standard bow and hurried after Hili.
And so, under York and Eileen's watch, the two quickly disappeared at the door, heading straight to the adjacent villa, decisively.
"That scared me! John, I was afraid the bishop wouldn't agree," Hili's voice reached York's ears.
"."
York shook his head in resignation and walked towards the living room.
He didn't bother to look at the villa's exterior or setup anymore; basically, everything was in place, and the fireplace used excellent matches, burning very hotly, making the whole house quite comfortable.
Taking off his coat, York sat directly on the sofa, looking at Eileen still standing silently with documents in her hands, and said helplessly.
"You don't have to stand like that here; this isn't a church. Aren't you tired?"
Eileen smiled, her eyes twinkling mysteriously, and sat down on the sofa next to York, handing over the documents she was holding.
"Bishop, here are the documents you requested."
York leaned back on the sofa, crossing his right leg over his left in a comfortable position, and began to seriously read through the detailed data in the documents. After a while, he still sighed.
"Besides the earlier disturbances, these values are indeed quite stable, neither rising nor falling. It seems the rift in Norway might be a long time from erupting."
Saying this, York handed the documents back to Eileen, looked up at the ceiling, and said, whether disappointed or regretful.
"Eileen, it looks like we really are going to have a very peaceful time here."
___________________
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