Chapter 59: Holy Scriptures
When they left the tribe again, the leader Pasotalo did not appear.
Nemo could probably determine the tribe’s attitude towards Jesse Dylan. Compared to the relatively civilized residents of Vincent Town outside, the primitive Bluebirds no longer identify with their Gods, especially the younger ones. Under the improved illusion array, year by year, the lives of the Bluebirds were no longer full of tension like their ancestors and Lavinia’s prophecy of destruction two hundred years ago had long lost its deterrent power.
They didn’t need God.
The so-called divine envoys were more like relics of the past than divine envoys who actually have power. The were willing to respect him and show a certain degree of obedience, but he was just a symbol of a small privilege, which wasn’t worth mentioning in the face of their growing hatred. In other words, they were willing to give Jesse Dylan a little bit of face— but only just a little.
The older Bluebirds were still afraid of “God”, but most of them have lost the right to speak. The two forces clashed with each other within the tribe and at present, the advantage of the war faction was particularly obvious. After all, there’s nothing in this world more acute than the hatred of young people.
Oliver reluctantly left Jesse Dylan a small communication crystal. Although their leader tried his best to hide it, Nemo still noticed the regretful expression that was like throwing cold coins directly into a trashcan. When Oliver did that, Jesse was comfortably lying in the tree hole, looking leisurely as if he was on vacation. He was casually flipping through a book, while yawning, but the book looked surprisingly familiar…
“You took it out?” Nemo almost choked on his own spit.
“She didn’t stop me.” Jesse threw the book over and Nemo hurriedly stretched out his hands to catch it, for fear that the ancient book, which was very valuable from a glance, would hit the hard slated floor.
The ancient book was heavy and thick, and the pages were already slightly yellow. Its spine was embedded with a circle of finely polished ore in which the light flowed with the change of angle. The edge of the book cover was wrapped in fine embroidery. The silk thread had not faded due to the passage of time, and the powerful magic array was perfectly integrated into the embroidery pattern. It was closer to a work of art than a book.