Only God
Chapter 117 - 103 Who Is He Really?_2

Chapter 117: Chapter 103 Who Is He Really?_2

On the fourth day before the execution,

The elderly Priest from the Pattern Garden, Dorias, arrived at the prison.

He was the priestly tutor of Prince Rui Ying and the person the High Priest of the Pattern Garden had arranged to visit Basel.

Priests of the Pattern Garden held an extremely high status within the Logos Kingdom, they were servants of God, elevated above the nobles.

Because of this, the priests of the Pattern Garden often enjoyed certain privileges, even prisoners sentenced to death.

One such privilege was the right to have a priest visit them.

It was customary in the Pattern Garden that if a priest was to be executed, someone must visit him before the execution.

Although Basel was not well-regarded within the Pattern Garden, he was still a member of the priesthood, so after careful consideration, the High Priest decided to send Dorias to visit Basel.

In doing so, they maintained the dignity of the priests while avoiding offending the heir to the kingdom.

Dorias stood outside the prison door, staring at Basel inside.

The poet stood deep in the cell, in the dark, facing the wall, his arms swinging.

Those outside the cell could not see what Basel was doing.

"Basel!"

Dorias waited for a long time, still not seeing Basel turn around, so he called out loudly.

Basel heard the voice and slowly turned his head.

Dorias was staring at him.

Stepping over the pile of straw used for sleeping, Basel retracted his hands and slowly walked to the prison door.

"Basel, the High Priest has commanded me to visit you," Dorias said.

As soon as the words fell on his ears, Basel sat down on the floor.

Seeing him remain silent, Dorias hesitated for a moment, then also sat down.

Sitting outside the prison door, the old Priest looked at the poet inside.

For a while, silence lingered inside and outside the cell.

Dorias harbored prejudices against Basel, and since the day Elder Gula was poisoned, Basel had remained silent, neither of them initiating conversation first.

After a while,

Seeing that Basel still maintained his silence, it was Dorias who could no longer sit still and spoke first.

After all, he had been entrusted by the High Priest with the duty of visiting Basel, and as an elderly Priest, he would not treat this duty perfunctorily.

"Basel, I... find it hard to believe you’ve been sentenced to stoning," Dorias was fulfilling his duty to visit another priest—to provide comfort in the face of death, offer understanding and sympathy, and to listen to the last words and wishes, to let the other priest die with as few regrets as possible.

Dorias stood on the side of Rui Ying, he thought that executing Basel was necessary, but he didn’t foresee how swift Rui Ying would act, and the punishment for Basel, the humiliating stoning, was beyond his expectations.

He was to be stoned to death by the crowd.

"When you spoke for the Three-eyed Ape People in the Pattern Garden, I knew you would eventually die because of the Three-eyed Ape People," Dorias continued.

Inside the cell, Basel looked into Dorias’s eyes, smiled a little, and did not reply.

Dorias didn’t understand why Basel was smiling,

Was it a mocking smile, a friendly smile, a slight chuckle, a habitual smile?

What did his laughter mean?

Suddenly, Dorias felt that he didn’t quite understand this poet whom he had once rebuked!

Dorias composed his thoughts and continued to speak:

"Basel, you are too impulsive; your sympathy for those heretics filled you, leading you to forsake the children of God, the people of Logos, forsake God."

As the last note fell, Basel turned his head away, as if he didn’t wish to listen any longer and wanted to leave.

Realizing something, Dorias’s attitude had been too condescending.

He instinctively reached out to Basel.

"Listen, Basel, I am here to visit you, to console your soul, to understand your last wishes."

However, Basel waved his hand and shook off the old Priest.

Dorias was pushed to the ground and got up clumsily, his eyes full of anger.

And Basel had returned to the depths of the cell, facing the wall, waving his arms.

......

On the third day before the execution,

Dorias came again to visit Basel.

After he returned yesterday, he told the High Priest of the Pattern Garden about what happened, and the High Priest repeatedly instructed Dorias to fulfill his visiting duties, to maintain the dignity of the priestly community.

So, Dorias had no choice but to forget yesterday’s displeasure and once again came to Basel’s prison door.

"Basel, I’m here."

With a pleading call, Basel slowly emerged from the darkness and approached the cell door.

Dorias stared into Basel’s eyes and suddenly realized they were the eyes of a man about to give up hope.

What was he giving up hope on?

On his own fate? Or on the future of the Three-eyed Ape People?

Dorias didn’t ponder too deeply. He sat down on the ground just as he had the day before, facing Basel.

Basel also sat down. In the flickering light of the fire that was barely visible, his face was extremely gaunt.

After a moment of contemplation, Dorias spoke,

"Let’s put our past differences aside, Basel. You are about to die, and death is the most difficult thing in this world. Therefore, I will not judge your actions.

Let’s talk, Basel. Let’s talk about things priests should discuss. About God, sacrifices, order, life, history...

We can talk about anything."

There was no possibility Dorias’s words were entirely sincere.

But still, Dorias was an old man, and seeing death looming over a young man, he felt a genuine sense of lamentation.

Basel lifted his eyes, his cold lips pursed, as if his gaze could speak.

Dorias caught the gaze of the man about to die.

That gaze was calm, unsettlingly so, like an examination devoid of any praise or criticism.

Dorias felt slightly bewildered under that gaze,

He felt...

How similar this gaze was to the accounts in the "Twin Kings Book."

Could the Basel before him be another Dertulian?

Under that gaze, the old priest’s thoughts became somewhat disordered.

The name Basel, meant to be like a king, but which king could it be? King Dertulian?

A cold breeze blew in through the cell’s wall windows, hitting Dorias in the face.

The old priest slapped his head, trying not to let his thoughts wander.

"Since you are not speaking, Basel..."

Dorias felt an unexplainable weariness as he gasped,

"Then let me speak. Basel, I know you have been wronged. By rights, King Dovlo should not have made such a judgment.

We both know it wasn’t just. But you must understand, you were the first to defy the king.

We all know the king was wrong, his mistakes far greater than yours, but he is the king, and you are but a priest."

At this point, the old priest noticed that Basel was staring at him, and a sudden sense of guilt arose within him, causing him to look away.

"Basel, I don’t know how to console you. I know it’s not fair, and seeing you sentenced to be stoned... my heart is equally... equally saddened by your fate and not at all at ease.

Any priest facing execution, no matter who he may be, would not leave me untroubled.

But I cannot, nor do I have the power to change any of this."

Dorias, too embarrassed to maintain eye contact with Basel, rambled on as if speaking to himself.

"I know you still believe you are righteous, that you are without fault.

To be honest, I don’t believe you would blaspheme. In my eyes, you lack the ability to commit such an act, nor would you."

Having said so much, Dorias swallowed hard.

"Basel, all I can say is, I will pray for you, to speak to God about your humiliation after your death, and even... to accuse King Dovlo of his mistakes."

At this point, Dorias raised his eyes and met Basel’s gaze.

The old priest was taken aback.

That gaze... was full of mercy, full of compassion.

As if,

it wasn’t him outside the cell visiting Basel,

but... Basel inside the cell visiting him.

As if,

it was Basel giving him comfort in his final moments, offering him understanding and sympathy, listening to his last words and desires.

Dorias was momentarily at a loss for words, his aged mind once again thrown into disarray.

The old priest couldn’t understand why the gaze of this insignificant poet made him feel so flustered.

As if,

he was representing someone in watching over him.

Could he be not just a mere, insignificant poet, a priest who faced ostracism? Not just a son of a prostitute, a stuttering man of the Logos?

Why did those eyes hold such magic power?

Who...

Who was he, really?