Only God-Chapter 555 - 478: Redeeming Past Sins

Holy Land, Land of Redemption.

No one could have anticipated that the road to the Holy Land was so distant and that redemption would be so hard to obtain.

True Believers continuously encountered death along this journey; suffering and agony never ceased.

Wherever they looked, no one was without sorrow.

But what could they do? They were so insignificant and trivial.

True Believers could only welcome this dual funeral, for both the dead and the living.

Veldor stood on the outskirts.

There were no coffins, no wreaths, only plain hemp garments, cold corpses, and a dying Sect Priest.

The Sect Priest’s days were numbered, and even on the day of the funeral, he was droopy, as if unable to open his eyes.

He was practically a dying man.

"Priest... is the priest truly going to die?"

A True Believer knelt down, incredulously asking as tears streamed out, sobbing silently,

"Oh Lord, why is this?"

He knelt on the ground, fingers twitching and trembling, crying a river, as if unable to accept the reality.

The senior Believer conducting the funeral could only slowly lift him up, squeezing out comforting words, telling him that once the Priest was dead, he would go to the finest place in the world.

Even so, the True Believer continued to sob.

"Why... why..."

Indeed... why? freeweɓnovel-cøm

Isn’t this supposed to be a pilgrimage to the Land of Redemption? Why have we not been redeemed?

The shouts of the True Believer startled everyone present, as if their long-held sorrow was about to erupt; they listened to that person cry, tears forming in their eyes, their faces filled with confusion.

Why?

A simple phrase seemed to resonate with everyone’s sentiments.

The True Believers helplessly huddled together, kneeling down, repeatedly calling out the Sect Priest’s name. But he was too weak, the dying Priest attempting to raise his hand, only to let it fall due to his lack of strength.

Among fear and despair, no one knew the answer.

Yet the funeral had to continue.

They prayed for the deceased, consoled their souls, and beseeched the merciful God for compassion, for a place in Heaven after death.

Tears in their eyes, the True Believers knelt down, bewildered and helpless, hands folded in prayer, faces marked by persistent sadness.

"Oh dear Lord, please show mercy, bestow your grace, love, and holy favor upon him, and upon those we love..."

The senior Believer recited the prayers used at funerals.

There were three rounds of prayer.

The True Believers bowed their heads, remaining silent, quietly waiting, their faces streaked with undried tears.

The senior Believer’s hands trembled, but he could not allow himself to tremble, he had to stay strong, he could not show such vulnerability, such sorrow.

"May the Lord bless him, may He hear our prayers for them at this moment!"

Thus, the True Believers began to recite the prayers, their voices tragic and mournful.

A breeze swept across the lifeless land,

the prayers of the True Believers in such an apocalyptic place were so loud.

The Sect Priest lay on the ground; beside him lay a dead True Believer, and he too was about to die, soon to depart from this world.

He closed his eyes, gradually weakening, as if about to sleep, never to wake again, while the prayers of the True Believers carried their trembling tears.

This pilgrimage was filled with too many trials and pains.

Why?

No one knew; they clasped their hands, bowed their heads, softly calling on the Lord, begging Him to ease their suffering, they chanted in their sorrow, murmuring.

We have already faced so much hardship...

Have we not?

Yet why is the path still so arduous?

Amidst the prayers, the senior Believer was silent; his lips trembled but he said nothing.

He too could not find the answer.

The True Believers prayed over and over again.

This group of tormented souls, at this moment, recited ancient and longstanding prayers.

"Oh God,

look at all we have endured,"

"Can You embrace us?

On this earth,

embrace our difficulties, embrace our despair."

It was Prophet Al’s prayer, once the prayer of the Logos people.

Souls that had suffered sought faith, sought hope through distant prayers.

.............

Veldor saw the senior Believer’s silence.

He too did not pray.

This person’s heart had already died; within his living body was a dead man.

In his mind echoed the questions of the past.

Whenever disaster strikes, everyone prays, but what exactly are they praying for?

Is it to give thanks for His silence, or to praise His arrangements?

There were to be three rounds of prayer. After the first round of prayer, during this tragic funeral, Veldor slowly got up and walked straight towards a secluded corner.

He clenched his fists, as if waiting for something.

Before long, he heard familiar footsteps; it was his Godfather.

The senior Believer observed Veldor and after a moment spoke,

"Everyone is attending the funeral.

What are you doing?"

Veldor tersely replied,

"Just getting some air, that’s all."

The senior Believer stared intently at Veldor,

"I know you, Veldor, it’s not just that, not just that, right?

What are you going to do? Commit suicide? I won’t allow you to do that."

The strong tone somehow incited Veldor’s anger.

Veldor abruptly turned around, vehemently saying,

"But God allows! He’s watching us walk into death!"

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