Magical Journey: The Other Shore Blooms on the Other Shore

Chapter 106 The Desert Holy City of Santiago (Part 4)

As Atlanta said, at every important place, such as the street corner of a certain block, the women passing by had to do some cumbersome procedures.

Taking a bath and changing clothes might be a bit of an exaggeration.

But nine prostrations are required, supposedly to express one's loyalty and faith in Santiago. Then one rinses their mouth with holy water…

Compared to the elaborate rituals for women, men generally only need to place their hands on their hearts and bow when passing by.

"Why did your ancestors come up with these inexplicable rules?" Elena dared to say this because Atlantis didn't seem that devout. If it were any other fanatical believer, they would have been thrown out of the city long ago if they heard her being so disrespectful to the Great Prophet Allah.

“Who knows—besides, this is just the beginning,” Atlan said helplessly. “Do you still want to go there? It’s just a broken rock, nothing to see.”

“I’ve come this far,” Elena said. “Even if it’s just a roadside stone, I need to treat it well. Can’t you, as a prophet, have some special privileges or shortcuts?”

“It’s because I’m a prophet that there are so many more rules and regulations. It’s so annoying. I should have never come back in the first place,” Atlan said. “So, Chekhov, it’s all your fault.”

"My fault?" Chekhov pointed to himself, looking incredulous.

Is my sister drunk?

“Of course it’s your fault. If you had been more capable and passed the prophet’s vetting process, I wouldn’t have needed to be a prophet,” Atlan said.

“I don’t have any magic…” Chekhov said with a sneer. “It would be a miracle if I passed. Besides, it makes me sound like a prophet.”

"What did you say?" Atlan said gently.

"I mean, I really deserve to die. I should have gone back into my mother's tummy and been born again. Maybe I would have magic powers."

Is your Violet family known for producing rebellious children...? Every single bone in this body is treacherous. But if it were me, I wouldn't want to be this so-called prophet either.

What does it mean to say that money is all illusory and that it's a crooked path?

The group walked through alley after alley, experiencing test after test of their "devout" hearts.

Finally, we arrived at the ancestral home of the Violet family. Because the prophet was the originator of the idea that "wealth is nothingness," the old house looked like a haunted house from a distance, with peeling paint on the walls, missing tiles, and drafty doors.

The main theme is to provide warmth in summer and coolness in winter, returning to the essence of nature.

Although there are no distinct seasons in the desert, living here means being unbearably hot during the day and freezing to death at night.

Those who don't know might think the prophet came to earth to undergo tribulation.

"Prophet, you're finally back from your wild adventures!" said an old man sweeping the floor at the entrance of the old house upon seeing Atlan.

“I went to work. Isn’t it a prophet’s duty to spread our great doctrines?” Atlan said. “And look, another believer has been born who is deeply fascinated by our doctrines.”

Who are you talking about?

Elena looked around, then Atlan nudged her.

Then she was pushed forward by this incredibly strong girl.

“Her name is Elena, and she will be my apostle,” Atlan said.

An apostle? Me?

"If you want to enter the forbidden area, I have to arrange an identity for you, understand?" Atlan secretly transmitted his voice, "You don't really think I can let you into the forbidden area with just a word, do you? If that were the case, we wouldn't have to go through so many formalities, we would have come to my little shack long ago."

That makes some sense.

Well, then, let him be an apostle.

"The apostle you took in?" The old man sweeping the floor put down his broom, his eyes fixed on Elena, his expression full of scrutiny. "Is she devout enough?"

“You have to believe my eyes, I am a prophet. She is the most devout believer, I swear,” Atlan said, patting his chest.

"It is precisely because it is you that I am uneasy." The old sweeper did not give the prophet he spoke of any face. "Miss Elena—forgive my impertinence, but do you truly believe that Santiago is the greatest god in the world?"

“Of course,” Elena replied without hesitation, ready to go all the way.

“Then let the Lord decide.” The old sweeper took out a copper coin. “Lord, your devout servant, Moses Nasan, bows to you. Please use your afterglow to judge this man’s heart.”

then……

He started flipping a coin.

No—no, no—all your fancy declarations will just end up being a coin toss.

As the coin landed on the back of his hand: "Miss Elena, is it heads or tails? Please don't try anything funny, if your heart is sincere enough, the Lord will grant your wish."

Ok……

Ok……

What to do? If we can't use magic to guess the coin, then it's all down to luck—wait, I've got an idea!

Elena glanced at Qin out of the corner of her eye. His expression hadn't changed, but the shape of his mouth had.

“Frontline,” Elena said.

When I unfolded it, it was indeed facing forward.

“Very good, you have passed the review,” the old man said. “My name is Moses Nassan, and I am the Prophet’s old steward. We welcome any servant who is devout to the Lord, and we hope that you will remain devout in the future.”

That's so casual.

Given Atlan's status and the fact that Elena is now considered an Apostle, it's reasonable that Jean, as Elena's travel companion, is allowed to enter the house.

During this process, they didn't flip a coin again to see if Qin still had faith in Santiago.

Then came dinner time.

To celebrate the birth of the new apostle, tonight's dinner will be extra lavish.

There's actually millet in the millet porridge!

And these beautiful vegetable leaves, you'd think they'd been bitten by caterpillars.

What is this?! A few grains of millet are floating in the white soup, and the vegetables look like they've been bitten by worms.

“Now you know… why I need to earn extra money,” Atlanta sighed softly. “Actually, this is quite a good amount.”

So, do you really not make millet porridge with rice in it on a regular basis?

Even with such exquisite food, one should pray before eating, giving thanks to the great Santiago for bestowing such delicious sustenance upon humankind.

Atlan's mother doesn't seem to be at the old house today.

The entire prophet's old house was occupied only by Mosinasan, the Atlanchikov siblings, and two outsiders, Chin and Elena.

"My lord, no whispering during meals," Mosinasan stopped Atlan from speaking quietly to Elena.

"Okay." Atlan casually shoveled a few bites of vegetable leaves into his mouth.

"See? This is the prophet's rule." Atlan switched to telepathy, this kind of magic could be effective for a period of time with just a slight wave of the wand.

"You're having a really tough time," Elena replied magically.

"If you feel sorry for me, give me a few more copper coins as a reward."

"That's impossible, one thing is another."