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Click....
The heavy and magnificent door opened a crack, and a young man dressed in a black robe, with a devout expression, stepped forward; like a ghost, he silently entered the Oracle Room.
In front of the sacred altar, the candles shone brightly, illuminating the wrinkled face of the old man arranged in neat rows. He stood under the statue, holding an open book of doctrines, murmuring a ritual chant.
"Father Satuk..."
The young man who had arrived behind him did not immediately approach, but instead stood at the bottom of the steps, calling out softly.
Upon hearing his voice, Father Satuk stopped his chanting, touched his forehead with the index finger of his right hand, and after a moment of silence, asked, "Ernest, has the message been delivered?"
"It has. He spent 1 Gold Pound to buy the news draft, and after reading it, he hurried back to the Church," the black-robed Divine Servant replied.
"Besides that, did he take any other actions?"
