When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist

A pebble fell into the moon pool, rippling the water, and a few sparks flashed instantly above the pool.

"Is it gone?"

Squatting on the ground, Horn tossed another pebble in, but this time there wasn't even any spark.

"It's gone. My movement while retrieving the star-forged gear was too large, so now the moon pool basically doesn't discharge anymore."

At this moment, in front of the moon pool at the Ethereal Tower, was Horn squatting, Hilov sitting, and Jeanne standing.

After spending more than four days together day and night, following the principle of addressing matters with a secretary, Horn asked Hilov:

"When is the next stellar alignment?"

Hilov opened the star map in her hand: "This can only be calculated three days prior to the alignment, but each stellar alignment is roughly fifteen to twenty days apart."

"So, late December?"

"Pretty much. I stargaze every night before bed, unless it rains, I won't miss it."

"Alright." Horn stood up, walked behind Hilov, and just as he wanted to speak, he noticed her hair was slightly disheveled, hanging down her back.

Horn gathered her long hair behind her neck and tied it into a low ponytail with a hair tie. Hilov's tail straightened, and she hurriedly pulled the ponytail to her chest.

"Then I'll leave this matter to you. I might not be present that day, so be sure to stay safe." Horn said softly.

"Mm, I know."

Waking Jeanne, who was about to fall asleep, Horn pushed Hilov's wheelchair and began to walk outside. In the courtyard, a small table had already been set up.

Much of Hilov's behavior was learned from El Ancient Books, so her life habits largely followed the traditions of the El people.

For instance, the afternoon tea party every day.

During the Ancient Aier Era, there was still tea, but during the Divine Ael Empire, tea somehow got lost, so they could only drink honey water as tea, and eat blood sausages and wheat cakes as snacks.

Pushing Hilov to a seat, Horn seemed to recall something and took out a varnished notebook.

"Hilov, uh, I almost forgot. Do you want to serve as the dean of the Royal Theological College of the Pope Country?"

"Me, theology?" Hilov's eyes widened as she took a bite of the wheat cake, "I'm a vampire's foster daughter, you know, and I don't understand theology."

"Who says you don't? Haven't you designed and manufactured many divine machines?"

Having risen through publicity, Horn is always meticulous about promotional work. After inventing the star-forged gear water pump, the Saint's Grandson swiftly named it—the Revolving Wheel Holy Machine.

All machinery based on star-forged gears, not driven by devils, but are divine machines.

It's not a devil driving the wheel, but the invisible hand of the Holy Father turning the gear.

Saint Father Baine is so great.

Horn's background and current situation destined him to develop magical science or alchemical science within the discourse system of theology.

If he wants to merge with the advanced productivity of alchemy or even spells in the future, he must first rationalize alchemy.

To construct such a sensible theological sect that can first incorporate relatively harmless alchemy, natural theology is undoubtedly a good reference.

Alchemy is no longer alchemy, but natural divine art.

However, constructing this set of ideas cannot be done by Horn alone; he is too busy and does not have the knowledge reserves to perfect this system.

So, a well-known and knowledgeable scholar, proficient in El Ancient Books, with rich philosophical and cultural reserves, is only Hilov.

"Natural theology, what is that?"

Horn didn't speak but asked, "Have you read the 'Gospel'?"

"I have. I've read the several annotated versions of the Gospel you've brought, actually, many of its parts and logic follow the myths, logic, and philosophy from Ancient Aier."

Picking up a small gear from the ground, Horn handed it to Hilov: "What is this?"

"A gear."

"And where did it come from?"

"Artisans made it."

"You see, when you see a gear on the ground, you naturally assume it was made by an artisan, because a gear cannot just appear out of nowhere.

But when you see a stone, do you think the stone has always been there?"

"You mean, the artisan of stones is the Holy Father?" Hilov's feet left the ground, her intelligent mind stayed on high ground, and she understood Horn's idea halfway through, "No, the artisan of nature is the Holy Father!"

"So clever." Horn couldn't help but rub Hilov's head, the Wolf Woman's tail wagged joyfully.

"You mean for us to abandon all transcendental and a priori revelations, and infer the existence of the Holy Father purely from reason and logic?" Hilov added, "Then the essence of alchemy is decomposition and synthesis, in a certain sense, it's a part of nature..."

"No no no, alchemy is alchemy, natural divine art is natural divine art." Horn waved a finger back and forth, "The purpose of alchemy is to produce gold and immortality, essentially for personal gain.

The purpose of natural divine art is to decompose nature, find the essence of nature, prove the existence of the Holy Father, and provide better lives for the faithful.

Ogres and Knights are both tall and strong, but does that make Ogres Knights? You can't count it that way."

Through Horn's explanation, Hilov gradually formed a preliminary understanding of this theological concept.

But Jeanne, leaning against a pillar, was listening until she nearly fell asleep.

If Horn was talking about military matters, Jeanne would listen with interest, but she really couldn't take this theology and philosophy stuff.

After nearly tripping again, Jeanne couldn't stand it, she simply stepped forward and interrupted their tea party, saying bluntly, "Brother, I'm going to practice spells, see you at dinner."

"Alright." Upon summoning Jeanne, Horn gave her a big hug before saying, "Since you need to practice spells anyway, go clear out the giant spiders at the Wild Spider Forest sawmill."

"Okay."

"Don't forget to take a few child soldiers and scouts, and map out the surrounding terrain."

"Got it."

After bidding farewell to Jeanne, who left blushing and in a hurry, Horn sat nonchalantly beside Hilov with a scent of chamomile.

Hilov tucked her tail under her bottom, while her ears lay flat against her head.

"What were we just talking about?"

"We were talking about Jia Li."

"Huh?" Horn's hand paused while holding the cup, "When did we talk about Jia Li?"

"Yesterday night, Jeanne and I talked about Jia Li..."

"Cough cough cough." Clearly without drinking water, Horn interrupted Hilov with a severe cough as if he had choked on water, "In any case, would you like to be the dean of the Divinity School?"

"I refuse. I'm just your secretary, a colleague, nothing more." Hilov's cold recitation tone made this coquettish remark sound more like the truth.

"We aren't close?"

"Then let me ask you, do you know I'm a witch?"

"I know."

"Then do you know what my witch spells are?"

"Uh..." Cold sweat dripped down Horn's face, he had indeed been so busy he'd forgotten, he seemed to have heard someone report it before, Jeanne mentioned it, what was it again?

"Who says I don't know, it's controlling little creatures... it's not that... it's, it's..."

Seeing Horn sweating profusely as he tried to recall, Hilov suddenly took his hand: "Wrong, I'm a divinatory witch, my divination is vision, able to divine extremely small things."

"And the Royal Theological College and natural theology matters?"

"I'm your secretary, it's normal for a secretary to help you handle some political affairs. The position of the dean of the Royal Theological College sounds interesting, I'll take it."