Chapter 30: Stolen Divine Power and the Church’s Conspiracy

Sister Teresa was clearly in high spirits, humming softly to herself.

In their small, private space, she was awkwardly handling a razor, trying to shave Yang Hao’s beard. With each tentative stroke, his beard took on increasingly bizarre shapes. Even without a mirror, he could sense his beard being sculpted into squares. He could feel the chilly blade cautiously skimming over his Adam’s apple, but strangely, he wasn’t afraid.

Maybe it was because the person wielding the razor was Teresa? The only woman he truly trusted now?

He watched her intently as she leaned over to shave him. Her nun’s habit was worn and dusty, with the white shawl over her chest stained and grimy. They would have to get her new clothes when they reached the Elven Kingdom.

He wasn’t sure how much money they could get from their belongings, but he guessed that a woman going nearly half a year without new clothes must have some pent-up feelings, right?

Lost in his thoughts, Yang Hao was brought back to reality by Teresa’s slightly complaining murmur. 

“You know, you really scared me earlier with that outburst. You can’t just openly say you don’t trust them when everyone is still around, can you?”

“I thought I was doing a pretty good job of hiding it, wasn’t I? If I’d shown such feelings earlier, they might have already left,” Yang Hao defended himself. 

For the past month, he had been careful not to show any discomfort in front of the Lien tribe and Joseph’s family, reserving his small fits of sulkiness for times with Teresa alone.

“Besides, the only one who could hear what I said back then was you, right?”

“That’s true. Everyone was quite far from us. Even when you lost your temper, you remembered to keep your voice down, which is praiseworthy– Oops, don’t move, I accidentally nicked you. Sigh, shaving without proper oil really is a hassle.”

“Umm…”

“But you see, I’ve realized that it’s not that you didn’t want to continue the pretense, you just couldn’t bear it any longer. It’s like forcing someone allergic to pork to eat pork every day and claim they love it. Maybe they can manage it for a day or two, but after a month or two, when they’re nearly suffering an allergic reaction, pretending to enjoy pork is out of the question.

“For you, interacting with people now seems like an allergy. Initially, you could lie to yourself that you’d soon part ways with the Ling tribe under the guise of being an employer. But now, with others obstinately following along and even a genuine former subordinate among them. Without any more self-deception, you have to endure this excruciating psychological trauma.

“It’s a very common yet often misunderstood type of psychological trauma. I remember the Church of Light even uses this as an excuse to falsely accuse people of betraying humanity or blasphemy. But that’s beside the point. Now, be completely honest with me, what do you imagine when you think about forming good relationships with anyone other than me?”

As Teresa murmured these unusually long thoughts she’d never expressed before, she carefully continued to shave Yang Hao’s beard until only a bit of stubble was left.

Faced with Teresa’s question, Yang Hao sighed deeply after a long silence, “Now, when I look at anyone else but you, I feel like I’m seeing Robert… like Priscilla, and… my little empress.”

“The first two I understand, but the last one?”

“There’s been a question troubling me. I don’t know why she didn’t speak. If she had condemned or falsely accused me like the others, I could have laid down a huge weight from my heart, but she just wouldn’t dare to open her mouth.”

Teresa remained silent for a moment before responding, “Oh… you’re worried that she was coerced?”

“I’m also worried that I might be indulging in self-pity,” Yang Hao said with a bitter laugh. “Is it too pitiful for me to think this way?”

“What does it matter if it’s pitiful? In the end, you’re still going to be with me. However, I’ll offer you a choice now, my little puppy. Remember, I killed an acolyte of the Church of Light earlier? And you had the Golems massacre the people of Kagard, which included many followers of the Church of Light.”

“Hmm?” 

The link between the followers of the Church of Light and the Light that Teresa worships seemed to intrigue Yang Hao, prompting him to raise an eyebrow instinctively.

“It’s just that, perhaps because they died at our hands, somehow, the nearly extinguished power of my lord has unexpectedly regained a bit of strength.”

She set down the razor and showed a tiny gap with her two fingers, no thicker than a fingernail’s width.

“Anyway, now I can perform more advanced divine magic. Most of it is pretty useless, but there’s one spell I think might be useful for you right now.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a spell called Serenity. I mentioned it to you before, there was once a hoodlum who wanted me to use it for vile purposes against respectable women, but I refused. Not just out of resistance, but also because I couldn’t use it then.”

“And you can use it now?”

“Yes. If you’re really struggling…”

“Then use it on me.”

“Eh?”

Teresa blinked, pocketing the razor and taking out a damp cloth to clean Yang Hao’s face of the remaining stubble and the small cut from the razor.

“In a way, if I use this spell on you, I could make you do anything. I mean, right now, I could potentially induce you, in your most peaceful moment, to strip down and chase me around like a dog in heat, right in public. Are you really okay with that?”

Yang Hao, utterly baffled by Teresa’s choice of a risqué metaphor and wondering if it was befitting of a nun’s demeanor, nodded again after she finished cleaning his face.

“Yes. I trust you completely. Even if you asked me to give up my life, I wouldn’t suspect you of harboring any harmful intentions towards me. So, if you think it’s necessary, let’s do it.”

Yang Hao’s condition was abnormal, and indeed, he could no longer keep up the pretense on his own.

He chose to place his full trust in Teresa because she had risked her life to protect him, and he was willing to risk death to trust her in return.

Hearing his declaration, the glee in the young nun’s eyes intensified.

“That’s some serious trust, huh? From now on, you need to hand over the household accounts to me, come home on time every evening, stay away from bars, and definitely avoid the red-light district. But since we’re at it, maybe we should start thinking about names for our future kids?”

“Teresa?”

“Just kidding, don’t take it seriously. I really don’t want to be a mom so young, it’s way too tiring.”

Teresa, seizing the advantage, chuckled. It seemed her main focus was on not wanting to be a young mother.

She clasped her hands together, bowed her head in prayer, and with a faint glow of white light, Yang Hao suddenly felt an extraordinary sense of inner peace.

Turning to look at the Ling tribe people who had started cooking, and trying to ponder Narujia’s intentions of befriending him as before, he no longer felt nauseous. The anger that used to surge in his heart was gone, and the visions of Robert and Priscilla ceased to appear.

His mind was incredibly serene. This Serenity spell was indeed perfect for someone troubled like him.

Only Teresa’s Serenity spell could be so effortlessly and unguardedly accepted by him.

***

At the same time, in the diocese, Archbishop Peter convened the Bishop’s Council.

All the bishops arrived on time, except for the seat of the Holy Maiden, which remained notably vacant.

Archbishop Peter could only shake his head and sigh at this. The Holy Maiden’s continuous seclusion in the basement had inadvertently made it easier for him to maintain absolute power.

Yet, this was an unstable ticking time bomb. The Holy Maiden remained ignorant of the Regent’s whereabouts and the current situation in the Roman Empire. It would certainly be convenient if she stayed underground forever.

However, she couldn’t stay there indefinitely. Therefore, Archbishop Peter needed to devise a plan.

But this was not the subject of today’s council meeting. The main agenda for today’s session, called by Archbishop Peter, was to discuss the lucrative plan to invade the Elven Forest in November.

“By the way, December is also the time for Harvest Day, isn’t it?” remarked the white bishop wearing a silver crown, nibbling on fresh seafood from the coastal region as he spoke to Archbishop Peter.

“On Harvest Day, our Diocese is obliged to pay out interest to the believers on their deposits in the Diocesan Bank. It’s not a trivial amount, especially considering the 4 million gold coins we annually provide to the Empire, plus the nearly 6 million gold coins for compensation related to the recent Kagard incident. If we distribute the interests as usual on Harvest Day, our finances this year will plunge into deficit.”

Each year, the Diocese managed to extract roughly 10 million gold coins in various forms from its believers and other sources. Be it in different currencies, mineral resources, or even blood taxes that primarily comprised human labor.

However, the Diocese had already expended a substantial amount of wealth this year.

Excluding the costs necessary for its own maintenance, the Diocese was already facing a deficit due to the two substantial compensations alone. Moreover, December of this year was marked by Harvest Day which occurs once every five years.

For this year’s Harvest Day, the Diocese was anticipated to disburse around 10 million gold coins in bank interest or welfare payments.

While an expenditure exceeding 20 million gold coins this year wouldn’t cripple the accumulated wealth of the Diocese, it would necessitate austerity measures. These would include cutting back on delicacies like Western lamb and fresh seafood from the southern coasts for the clergy.

However, the main challenge discussed at this council was how to cancel this interest payout while legally converting the believers’ bank deposits into assets of the Church of Light.

After all, one can never have too much money. And every penny that can be saved, no matter how small, should not be overlooked.

Archbishop Peter observed as the bishops deliberated on various aspects, but ultimately, they all converged on a single strategy.

It was to send fervent believers–especially those fanatical ones with substantial deposits in the bank–to their deaths in the Elven Forest.

Quite literally, to their demise.

In the Diocese, if the assets stored in the bank lacked a designated heir, upon the death of the account holder, all their wealth would be claimed by the Church of Light.

In essence, the more believers who died on this Harvest Day, the more the Church of Light could save on interest obligations while simultaneously acquiring considerable wealth.

If the expeditionary forces proved to be extraordinarily powerful and achieved significant victories, the Diocese could even justifiably expand its territories northward, exploiting the unique resources of the elves for even greater profit.

Consider the elves, for instance. If used merely as breeding stock, a single elf could sustain a noble family for centuries.

In a way, elves were similar to the monster tribes from the Monster Forest, their bodies were rich in magical components. Even the menstrual blood of an elf was a natural conduit for magical power.

Given these factors, opting for a strategy that guaranteed substantial profits while gambling for even higher gains was an undoubtedly attractive proposition for the bishops.

The real question was the specifics of the plan. Should they launch a direct and aggressive attack on the Elven Kingdom’s capital and its Sky Garden, Fingel, or should they engage in a prolonged, systematic campaign? This was a matter for consideration.

The bishops engaged in animated discussions about the plan, while Archbishop Peter, after lengthy deliberation, appointed a bishop as the supreme commander for the Northern Crusade.

This bishop was Stephen, one of the most infamous yet capable figures in Saint Petersburg.

Bishop Stephen’s opulent estate on the 40th floor of the cathedral housed over a hundred attractive young boys for his indulgence. His demands were high, and boys who had been ‘deflowered’ were discarded like trash. Yet, those who were cast away were still expected to express gratitude towards him.

Because of this, they might win the favor of the influential, proudly boasting in front of the believers about their current status and wealth as ‘Steward Apprentices.’

Bishop Stephen even had a bizarre predilection for witnessing beasts in heat violating boys.

Although everyone was in the dark about the origins of these beasts, let alone how he managed to transport such dangerously magical creatures into St. Petersburg, the fact remained. His residence was indeed teeming with countless magical beasts.

Even the dirtiest executioner in the parish was loath to associate with him, a testament to the bishop’s notorious reputation.

Yet, despite his infamy, he had a power that matched his notoriety and a zealous devotion to the God of Light.

He was also the only bishop in the parish with experience commanding large armies, making him the ideal choice to lead the upcoming crusade as the supreme commander.

“Bishop Stephen, please, you must fulfill this mission honorably. Now, I declare this meeting adjourned, everyone, go back. Don’t just indulge in pleasures, try to do some real work and earn some money like I do, okay? Off you go, off you go. If the Saintess’s entourage asks about today’s matters, just say we will consider the matter of money ourselves.”

“Yes. Then we shall take our leave.”

The bishops departed. Bishop Stephen, specially mentioned by Archbishop Peter himself, left with an air of arrogance, eagerly wishing that everyone knew he had become the supreme commander of this crusade, basking in the Archbishop’s favor.

After the bishops had left, Archbishop Peter’s face turned to a grave expression.

Just recently, he had unexpectedly received a revelation from the God of Light.

A portion of divine power, instead of returning to the domain of the God of Light after the believers’ deaths, had mysteriously vanished.

“Who could be pilfering the mighty power of my Lord? Surely it couldn’t be the regent, who neither believes in God nor possesses a shred of magical talent?”

He murmured to himself, clueless about the situation. His suspicion inevitably turned towards those primitive monster tribes in the Monster Forest.