Only God-Chapter 519 - 446: God is Transcendent (Added two in one)

Dwarf Kingdom Kaelonde.

This nation is one of the leading powers among the dwarven race, its lands sprawling with mountain ranges, and its mineral reserves rich to an extreme. It boasts the largest community of craftsmen in the entire dwarven race.

Yet it was this kingdom that was undergoing some unprecedented changes.

These changes were generally limited to the minutest of details.

In the past year, within some of the more remote mines of Kaelonde, a new kind of machinery began to appear—an apparatus that burned coal to boil water and move stones—gradually replacing the laborers who had specialized in transporting minerals.

These mining sites, often avoided by dwarves or giants due to their geographic location or the difficulty in extraction, used to be quite costly to operate. However, with the invention of this previously unknown machinery, the cost of mining operations plummeted drastically, and suddenly the production of cheap minerals disrupted the markets of the surrounding cities and the craftsmen within them.

As the volume of minerals increased, the cities on the fringes of the kingdom began to attract more craftsmen. The abundance of minerals in the market offered them opportunities to showcase their talents, spawning a surge of novel gadgets throughout the kingdom at a rate far surpassing that of the past.

And as word of mouth spread among the people, the dwarves discovered that this machinery, which boiled water by burning coal, was called a steam engine, originating from the recently renowned Wood Stone Clan.

Even now, the various machines produced by the Wood Stone Clan had not brought about earth-shattering changes to the entire kingdom. Yet as the saying goes, "Many a little make a mickle"; a few of the kingdom’s sages had sniffed the scent of revolution in these small accumulations.

Not to mention Veldor, who once possessed the Mechanical Book.

He was far clearer about the significance of that book than any of the sages.

But what of it?

He was just a wanderer, a wanderer who had his sights set on the True Believers’ purses.

Since a chance encounter with a Preacher, Veldor had converted and become a True Believer, and several years had passed since then.

Veldor was not a true believer; his gaze had always been fixed on the wealth of the entire Church.

Initially, this dwarven youth had thought of a quick in and out – to steal and then to flee as soon as possible. But once he had converted, he realized he had been far too simplistic in his thinking.

First of all, the True Believers led very austere lives. Their clothes were patchy, to say the least, and new garments were purchased only once a year. Any money that came their way was allocated for alms and preaching.

Secondly, the Sects kept a tight rein on their finances, seemingly well-prepared for thievery by the Believers, and Veldor, having converted not long ago, had no access whatsoever.

Lastly, the Sects often provided refuge for the dregs of society. The True Believers would give out porridge—although often insufficient to satiate hunger—and offer medical treatment, varying in proficiency and occasionally even resulting in patient deaths. Nonetheless, the entire Church was genuinely benevolent, winning over many dwarves who became devout followers, among whom were wanderers who had once lived by thievery.

Due to a combination of reasons, Veldor continually failed to find the right opportunity to make off with the money and achieve instant wealth.

However, even without a successful heist, there were benefits to staying in the Church—like not starving to death.

This was precisely why Veldor had not left the Church. Instead, he slowly earned the trust of those around him, waiting for the opportune moment.

Among those around him, the one Veldor despised and mocked the most was the old Believer who guarded the ledger.

This old Believer had once been a wanderer himself, and thus was extremely watchful over the finances, his eyes as keen as an eagle’s, his voice aged yet filled with wisdom. He was neither kind nor indifferent, and from his gaze, Veldor perceived an indelible trace of untamable pride.

Over the years, Veldor had tried his best to establish a good relationship with the old Believer.

Yet, the latter always maintained a tepid indifference, giving Veldor a sense of being just out of reach.

This attitude undoubtedly infuriated the young dwarf, but Veldor was helpless.

Once, Veldor took the initiative to share his own past in an attempt to touch the old Believer’s heart with sincerity, to gain his trust.

And so, he embellished the tale of how he had fallen into the life of a wanderer.

Veldor concealed the Mechanical Book, focusing on the bullying and trampling he suffered from others, and even fabricated some non-existent pieces, all to gain sympathy from the old Believer.

"Even my father trampled my dignity. When I was suffering, he scolded me instead, adding pain to my injury."

But who could have thought that the old Believer would say,

"I sympathize with your plight,

but dignity, like a beard, if cut off, will grow back.

No matter the trials you have suffered in the past, the past must be let go, for you cannot reverse it, can you?"

The old Believer’s voice was gentle, but his words were a stab to the heart, leaving Veldor feeling helpless and incensed.

What pained Veldor the most was the faint suspicion that the old Believer seemed to see through his true nature.

The old Believer had once been a Wanderer, and his insight was far sharper than most.

Veldor always felt as though he knew exactly why he had converted to the True Religion.

Being in his company was the most uncomfortable time for Veldor, yet he had no choice but to interact with him cordially for the sake of the Sect’s finances.

Tonight.

It was late autumn, and the leaves were falling thickly, a time when the Sect was most active since the season of harvest had passed, and the idle winter was approaching, bringing people everywhere willing to listen to preaching.

After a day of preaching, the Sect sat around in an empty house, their temporary dwelling.

"Let us thank the Priests, and praise their virtues, may God protect them."

The Great Elder led the Believers in expressing gratitude to the Priests of the Dwarf Temple.

Thanks to the friendly relations between them, those Priests occasionally provided significant conveniences during their missionary work.

The empty house beneath their feet was one such convenience. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

Veldor numbly joined the others in thanking and praising the Priests, his faith and reverence having been worn thin by his life as a Wanderer.

Following this, the Great Elders led the congregation in evening prayers, and after praying together, they shared dinner while discussing their experiences, insights into Scripture, and matters concerning the Divine.

Veldor sat next to the old Believer who managed the accounts.

"Why is our Sect so poor?"

Veldor initiated the conversation.

"Because we are meant to be poor.

We do not wish for God to bestow us with luxury and splendor."

The old Believer answered offhandedly.

"But I’ve heard that in that Human Empire, Danschel, the Monks live lives free from want, and those in high positions live in luxury and eat the finest foods."

Veldor stroked his beard as he spoke.

The old Believer did not turn around, continuing to chew on his bread softened by barley porridge, and then said,

"If they do good deeds, that wealth will diminish their merits, and if they do evil, that wealth will add to their transgressions."

"Prosperity doesn’t always mean good fortune."

Veldor said subconsciously,

"You’re just sour because you can’t eat the grapes."

The old Believer stopped what he was doing and glanced at Veldor,

"So what if I am?

Envying their wealth only brings oneself pain.

Since I cannot choose whether to follow the path of prosperity, I might as well devote myself to arduous practice, and leave it to God to decide which path is better."

Leave it to God to decide...

Veldor chewed on these words and then asked,

"Will God really decide?"

The old Believer answered confidently,

"I don’t know.

That’s not something I can know; I’m not dead yet, and have not seen God’s face."

Veldor felt a rush of resentment, the old Believer’s answer felt like punching into cotton.

So he said, annoyed,

"God hasn’t even seen me, how could He decide?

Moreover, how can I let a stranger decide my fate?"

The old Believer scrutinized Veldor,

"God hasn’t seen you? A stranger?"

"I doubted like you once... until I heard a story."

Veldor nodded, feeling a bit uneasy.

"It’s my favorite story,"

the old Believer added.

"After Prophet Noen departed, his Disciple Xilan established the very first Church.

Everyone said Xilan was given a mission, yet he hesitated, afraid to believe.

He doubted the mission on his shoulders, even doubting that God only watched over the Prophet and not himself.

It wasn’t until persecution came, and just blood was shed, that he finally realized, God had always been with him, walking by his side.

After he came to this realization and prayed in prison, a miracle happened, and he suddenly vanished from this world."

The old Believer narrated the story of Disciple Xilan with persuasive gentleness, a gleam in his eyes, while Veldor was somewhat puzzled.

"Do you understand the meaning of this story?"

Veldor shook his head,

"I don’t understand."

The old Believer chuckled scornfully,

"Then you haven’t found redemption."

Veldor was annoyed by this remark, he dropped the bread he was holding and questioned in a low voice,

"What about you?"

The old Believer hesitated, looked at Veldor as if remembering something, finally shook his head,

"Perhaps not either."

There was implication in his words, but Veldor was too young to hear it; he just retorted bitterly,

"It’s not ’perhaps’, it’s ’definitely’."

The old Believer did not engage, thinking the young Dwarf too naive.

Moments later, as dinner was about to end,

The old Believer spoke out of nowhere,

"We live in this world, always striving to find redemption."

Veldor turned his head.

"Not just us, but even the Prophets chosen by God did the same."

"And sometimes, perhaps we have not found redemption, not even seen its shadow, or maybe we have found it but don’t know it ourselves."

"Do you know, many things are beyond the scope of our reason, beyond our ability to assert, to be certain, even if we ask a hundred times ’why’, we won’t find a definitive answer."

The old Believer seemed like a gracious and wise teacher, sharing life’s experiences with the young Dwarf before him.

"I like the story of Disciple Xilan because I can see his doubt about the mission.

He couldn’t be certain whether God had given him a mission, just as we can’t be certain we have truly found redemption."

"Whether it’s redemption or a mission, it has already exceeded the range we can verify, just like King Dertulian said, ’God is not moral, God is absurd.’"

"Fundamentally, God is transcendent."

"His arrangements are mysterious.

At this point, the old Believer took a sip of water, his breath gradually slowed, and he spoke in a muted tone:

"Given this, let us leave everything to God to decide, let everything return to God."

"I have faith only,"

"After all, Scripture says:

In God’s eyes, ’to scorn one person is to scorn all, and to love one person is enough for love to live eternally.’"

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