Only God-Chapter 563 - 482: At That Time, Everyone Was Too Young

"This really was a miraculous experience."

The Priest murmured in disbelief.

To the True Believers, these words struck a chord of bewilderment, and even though they had been saved for several days, they remained caught in an endless tide of emotions.

The past dozen days felt like a dream, an illusion.

They had first encountered a series of cataclysmic disasters on this journey—torrential rains, earthquakes, storms... misfortune had struck them relentlessly, toying with them, ravaging them without mercy.

But after that...

Everything returned to normal in the blink of an eye, as if time had flowed backward. The cracked earth healed, the broken trees restored, the collapsed mountains rebuilt, and even the dead came back to life, without a single hair lost.

It was like the fabled Day of Rebirth.

"Except for God, who would have thought we went through such an ordeal?"

The old Believer whispered in agreement.

He looked more exhausted than before, his spirits suddenly relaxed from the continuous tension of the past days, appearing significantly older.

"If we were to speak of these things, even Danschel’s Great Shepherd would think we were either mad or impostors clamoring for fame by falsely claiming miracles."

A True Believer voiced out.

The others nodded in agreement.

Indeed, the experiences of these days were too strange.

When miracles actually happened, even they thought they were seeing illusions.

They remembered at that time, they had first stared at each other in bewilderment, then embraced and cried for a long time, praying and praising while they wept, and it wasn’t until a few days later that they resumed their journey.

"How much longer until we reach the Holy Land?"

Veldor asked aloud.

The old Believer turned his head and slowly said,

"Not long, it shouldn’t be much longer...

We’ve already crossed the hardest path."

Upon hearing this, Veldor felt a sudden sting in his eyes; he bowed his head, saying nothing.

This pilgrimage journey, through disaster, pain, and trials, and where people gathered together to pray to God, seeking redemption—whether or not they continued on, they had already arrived at the Holy Land in spirit.

"What will we find in the Holy Land?"

A True Believer asked excitedly, anticipating the imminent Holy Land,

"It can’t be like any common place, that’s the Ancient Elf Kingdom."

Veldor spoke at this moment,

"Perhaps there’s no difference. The mountains are still mountains, the waters remain waters, even the Ancient Elf Kingdom is just like other ancient civilization sites."

The True Believer paused,

"If that’s the case, that would be... really disappointing."

Veldor, however, seemed reflective,

"No, it should be just like that.

Nothing is there, but at the same time, everything is there."

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

Under the guide’s leadership, the Sect finally arrived at the borders of the Ancient Elf Kingdom.

Washed by the passage of tens of thousands of years, few remnants of broken walls remained at the borders of the Ancient Kingdom, which were now covered in lush vegetation.

The pace of the Sect quickened, and on the second day, they reached a town built upon ruins.

The inhabitants were mostly Stone Slaves, with a very few Elves among them, who warmly welcomed the pilgrim Sect. The weary travelers could finally sleep in rooms with bedsteads, rather than in the open wilds.

Every inch of the Ancient Kingdom amazed these True Believers, who pointed here and there with unending questions; the Stone Slaves couldn’t help but smile at their astonishment.

"How come, living so close to the Holy Land, you feel nothing special?"

A True Believer couldn’t help but ask.

"What’s there to wonder at? Not just here, but even right below the Holy Land, there’s nothing different,"

the Stone Slave said.

After nearly eighty days of journey, the Sect could finally slow down and rest a while. They stayed an extra day in the town, where discussing their encounters with miracles roused interest among the locals.

"What are you talking about? Your stories are too fanciful,"

said the Stone Slaves.

"But it’s true, absolutely true!"

The True Believers from the Sect insisted, somewhat anxiously.

"Do you know, many go to the high mountains on pilgrimages, claiming to have seen miracles on the way, all sorts of them. But how can there be so many miracles in the world?

People who claim miracles like you, we’ve seen enough to become indifferent."

No matter how the True Believers explained, the Stone Slaves did not believe them.

However, the Stone Slaves did notice that the wind had been much stronger for a few days, and the ground shook slightly, but what was that to them?

They merely considered the True Believers’ experiences a fantastic, unverifiable legend, and after several attempts at explaining, finding no one believed them, the Sect members gave up on the effort.

Leaving the town, the Sect moved closer each day to the site of the former Royal Capital, which, after shifts and changes, had become a new city standing beneath tall mountains.

"We’re about to see the Holy Mountain!"

"Yes, not just the Holy Mountain, but also the Pattern Garden established by Prophet Al, the very first one."

"The light of God is about to shine upon us, we’re finally there!"

The True Believers were immensely excited, having endured many ordeals to finally reach the moment of reward, every one of them immersed in a wave of delight.

"The first Pattern Garden in the world?"

Veldor muttered,

"It sounds a bit..."

The old Believer turned and asked, completing the thought,

"Unreal?"

Veldor nodded slightly, acknowledging the sentiment.

Just imagine a place frequently mentioned in Scriptures or legends, not as an abstract idea but as a physical reality, and you’re about to see it—how would you feel?

Too unreal, isn’t it?

"Veldor, when you see the Pattern Garden, you might feel: so it’s just this, nothing special."

The old Believer spoke as if imparting a life experience,

"Believe me, although I’ve never been to the Holy Land, I’ve had similar experiences before. In many places, you start with limitless expectations, but once you actually get there, you don’t feel anything special, at most you’re left with some reflections."

Veldor glanced at the Priest, his face wrinkled with age, and couldn’t help but ask:

"The Pattern Garden, Prophet Al’s Pattern Garden, is there really nothing special about it? No miracle, blessing, or grace of any sort?"

The old Believer did not deny it, merely saying,

"I think, probably there’s nothing special."

"But,"

"At that time, people were too young, mistaking a garden full of wheat for a place to uncover the truths of the world."

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