Inside the Ecclesiarchy's cathedral, the Old Bishop, his hair now white and his figure stooped, still sat on his slightly aged hover-platform, slowly descending before Alex.
The platform's metal casing was covered in scratches left by time, but it still steadily carried this old man who had dedicated his life to faith.
Compared to Alex's last visit, the Ecclesiarchy's cathedral had undergone another round of large-scale expansion.
The magnificent vision that once existed only in the Old Bishop's blueprints—that towering Grand Cathedral whose spires would break the Karman line—had now moved from paper to reality.
On the construction site, machinery roared, scaffolding stood everywhere, and the massive foundation had been completed, with workers now building the main structure upwards.
Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the semi-finished high walls, casting dappled light and shadow on the ground.
Over the past decade, with the ongoing Rostov Expedition, the Ecclesiarchy had invested a large amount of resources and manpower into the Sub-Sector.
Although the primary mission of these Holy War Armies was to participate in the Expedition, according to the rules Alex had established years ago, all Holy War Armies had to undergo systematic training before heading to the front lines.
Therefore, they would all stay on Rostov II for a period of time.
During these days awaiting deployment, these devout believers, in addition to receiving rigorous military training daily, would spontaneously organize themselves to contribute their strength to the Grand Cathedral construction site.
At the first hint of dawn, their figures could be seen queuing up to head to the construction site, and some were still working diligently as the sun set.
The construction site presented a bustling scene: strong young believers carried and lifted heavy bricks and stones to their designated positions; meticulous craftsmen carefully mixed mortar, ensuring every bond was firm and reliable; diligent cleaners moved through the area, promptly clearing debris and waste generated by the construction.
Although each person's contribution seemed insignificant, it was precisely these seemingly trivial labors, accumulated day after day, that allowed the foundation of this holy temple to gradually solidify over ten years.
As the Expeditionary Force's war gradually eased, more Holy War Armies who had the opportunity to rest threw themselves into the construction with boundless devotion to the Emperor.
The sounds of labor on the construction site continued from early morning until late at night, with hammering, cutting, and work chants intertwining into a devout hymn that echoed endlessly above the cathedral.
However, no matter how the cathedral was expanded and renovated, the simple stone gate that the Old Bishop had personally built years ago always stood quietly in its original place.
The rough chisel marks on the stone gate, having endured the test of time, were still clearly visible, like a silent guardian, silently reminding every passing clergyman and believer with its presence: never forget your original intention, and you will achieve your ultimate goal.
This unassuming stone gate had already transcended its physical meaning, becoming a spiritual symbol connecting the Ecclesiarchy's past and present, witnessing the continuous inheritance and growing development of faith in this Star District.
"Welcome, Governor, you've visited less often these past few years." The Old Bishop's voice was still as gentle and kind as Alex remembered, only now with a few more years of aged hoarseness.
A familiar smile slowly appeared on his wrinkled face, and the reverence in his eyes, though cloudy yet still bright, almost overflowed when he looked at Alex.
Ever since that sacred moment ten years ago—the moment Living Saint Saint Celestine manifested in the cathedral—the Old Bishop had unswervingly believed that Alex was the Emperor's new representative.
And the various deeds over these years—whether it was the victorious reports of the Holy War Army against heretics, or the astonishing feats of purifying demons—all confirmed his firm belief.
In the Old Man's devout gaze, everything Alex did—from commanding the Expeditionary Force to defeat heretics, to purifying planets corrupted by Chaos—was perfectly fulfilling the Emperor's will.
His wrinkled hands gently caressed the Aquila emblem on his chest, and the Old Bishop firmly believed that this "Living Saint" standing before him was the embodiment of the Emperor's will.
As a devout believer who had served the Emperor his entire life, he had to devote all his wisdom and strength to assist this holy representative, helping him complete the sacred mission of purifying the Star District and spreading the faith.
"I've been busy with Expeditionary Force matters and haven't called on you for a while, Bishop." Alex bowed slightly, placing his right hand over his chest in a standard Ecclesiarchy salute.
The two exchanged a few simple pleasantries, and the conversation naturally turned to the progress of the cathedral's expansion.
The Old Bishop excitedly described the latest progress on the Grand Cathedral's dome, while Alex politely inquired about the logistical support for the Holy War Army's station.
Whenever the valiant achievements of the Holy War Army were mentioned, the Old Bishop would utter sincere whispers of admiration, his wrinkled face beaming with a gratified smile; Alex, however, always maintained a humble attitude, attributing victory to the Emperor's blessing and the sacrifices of the soldiers.
"There's still a lot of construction here, and the conditions are simple, so please forgive us, Governor." The Old Bishop said with a hint of apology, leading Alex through the completed main corridor.
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