By noon, the archbishops were utterly exhausted.
Owen, panting heavily and struggling to keep up, took a few steps forward. “Elders, it’s almost noon. Everyone’s exhausted. Let’s take a break and have something to eat.”
The three elderly monks turned to look at the weary archbishops with displeasure on their faces.
“Fine, let’s rest for an hour under those trees ahead,” one of them finally conceded.
Seeing how tired everyone was, Simon had no choice but to agree.
The archbishops, relieved, scrambled to the shade, grabbing their water and food, devouring it without any regard for decorum.
Meanwhile, a few hidden figures on a distant mountaintop observed the bedraggled group.
Leo shook his head with a cold smile. “These guys are really out of shape.”
“Physical strength was never their strong suit,” Essex smiled slightly. “Besides, they are used to a life of comfort.”
“We’ll conserve our energy and strike at night,” Leo declared decisively.
“Brilliant strategy, my lord,” Prince Fred praised. “But how will we lure them to Targon?”
“Simple. We’ll reveal the Holy Scarab. They’ll sense it immediately,” Leo replied with a sinister grin.
Essex nodded. “Let’s head to Targon then, my lord.”
“Let’s go,” Leo agreed, and their figures silently vanished.
After resting for a while, Simon stood up and glanced at the exhausted archbishops sprawled around. “It’s getting late. We should move on,” he said coldly.
Owen grimaced. “Elder, the sun is scorching right now. Can we rest a bit longer?”
“Don’t forget your mission,” Stanley said sternly. “The Lord is watching you from above. Is this how you intend to show your devotion?”
The archbishops, ashamed, gritted their teeth and stood up.
“Let’s go. Once we cross this mountain, we’ll find another place to rest,” Terrace said sympathetically.
“For the Lord, we can endure any hardship. Stay strong, everyone,” Owen encouraged, though he was suffering inside.
The archbishops gathered their strength and continued on.
As night fell, they set up several large tents under a cliff that shielded them from the wind.
Outside the tents, several bonfires blazed, flickering in the mountain wind.
The archbishops huddled around the fires, enjoying the warmth that chased away the cold from their bodies.
Though the simple food they carried-bread and cheese-was hard to swallow, their intense hunger forced them to eat it anyway.
The three elderly monks ate slowly and with relish, making others envious of their good appetites.
In the distance, the howling of wolves echoed through the mountains, sending shivers down the spines of the archbishops.
After barely filling their stomachs, the archbishops were so exhausted that they could barely keep their eyes open.
Owen struggled to his feet and approached the three elderly monks. “Elders, you’ve worked hard today. Please rest early.”
“You go ahead and sleep. We’ll pray for a while longer,” Terrace waved him off.
Owen retreated and signaled to the eager archbishops to enter their tents.
Within minutes, snores filled the air.
Stanley shook his head with a wry smile. “Today’s believers are nothing like those of the past.”
“Sigh…” Simon and Terrace sighed in unison.
Suddenly, the three elderly monks felt a familiar tremor and looked in the same direction simultaneously.
A beam of Holy Light shot up into the sky from not far to the east.
The three monks stood up in joy.
“It must be the Holy Scarab emitting that Holy Light!” Simon’s voice trembled with excitement.
“Hurry, we must find it immediately,” Stanley urged.
The archbishops, who had just fallen asleep, also sensed the powerful Holy Light and rushed out of their tents.
“It must be the Holy Scarab… We’ve finally found it…” they exclaimed with joy.
Just as everyone was celebrating, the beam of Holy Light suddenly vanished as if snatched away by an invisible hand.
“What happened? We need to move now and find the sacred artifact first,” Simon shouted urgently.
“But what about our tents…” one archbishop hesitated.
“Leave them! We can’t waste a single minute. Go!”
The three elderly monks transformed into beams of holy white light and flew towards where the Holy Light had appeared.
The archbishops quickly followed suit, riding on beams of Holy Light.
In the Targon Mountains, surrounded by dense forests and uneven rocky terrain in the center, they landed swiftly from the sky.
Everyone immediately began searching frantically for the Holy Scarab.
“This is strange. It should be here,” Simon said in confusion when they found nothing.
“Yes, why did the Holy Light suddenly disappear? It would have been easier to locate it otherwise,” Stanley frowned.
“No worries. We can use Holy Light to sense the artifact,” Terrace said confidently.
“Alright, let’s begin,” Simon agreed.
The three elderly monks sat cross-legged as holy light radiated from them, making them appear angelic in their divine and majestic presence.
They rose into the air amidst serene Holy Light and began chanting mysterious syllables solemnly.
As they chanted, countless beams of Holy Light cascaded down like waterfalls, enveloping the entire Targon Mountains.
Everyone waited expectantly for the Holy Scarab to appear, but there was no response from their surroundings.
Soon after, the Holy Light dissipated, and the three monks descended with puzzled expressions.
“How is this possible? The artifact should be nearby. Why can’t we sense it?” Simon said in disbelief.
“Yes, with our power, we should have found it,” Terrace agreed, equally baffled.
“Could it have been taken by dark creatures?” Stanley worried aloud.
Owen shook his head. “Unlikely. We arrived so quickly and noticed no disturbances. The artifact must still be nearby.”
“Indeed. Could there be some kind of seal?” Simon speculated. “Everyone spread out and search carefully.”
“Yes,” the archbishops responded as they began their meticulous search.