Chapter 58: Blasphemy and the Revenge of Faith (part 2)

When Bishop Stephen was jolted awake by his attendant, he was still savoring the pleasure he had derived from the young wolf boy at the tribunal the previous night.

Instinctively, he murmured, “Wolfkin are so tight,” while wiping away the drool that had freely flowed as he slept. When he absentmindedly asked what was happening, he noticed the strange yet serious expression on his attendant’s face.

“What’s going on?”

“Your Grace… please, come to the window.”

Led by his attendant, Bishop Stephen went to the window. As the glass pane was opened from inside, the terrifying screams from outside became louder. He could faintly hear people cursing the God of Light and the sound of burning flames.

What was going on? Who was being so blasphemous? Wait—this didn’t make sense.

They were on the 40th floor, how could these sounds be coming from so high up?

Bishop Stephen, who had been seething with anger, froze.

Following his attendant’s pointing finger, he saw a knight riding a Roc Eagle. The knight was tossing small, magical spheres down to the city below. These spheres transformed mid-air into ring-shaped screens displaying.

The captives and the bodies of the fallen soldiers of the Redemption Army were burned at the stake. The believers, tortured in agony, were cursing the God of Light and pleading for divine punishment or mercy that never came.

“This… this is bad, really bad.”

Bishop Stephen’s eyes widened in an instant.

This was disastrous, extremely disastrous.

Stephen wasn’t overly concerned about the failure of the new Redemption Army. After all, they were meant to be expendable. The best among them might have a chance to become church guards, but over 90% of them would face punishment even if they survived.

So, he didn’t really care if the Remebption Army foolishly walked into battle out of overconfidence, nor if they managed to succeed in their mission. But he deeply cared about the precious priests and the Holy Guard.

Yet, losing a few priests and some squads of the Holy Guard wasn’t what made him panic and shout, “This is bad!”

The real issue was those shameless bastards. Those sacrilegious elves and demons not only burned the believers’ bodies but also subjected the captives to burning at the stake?!

“This is bad… this is bad! Quick! Get those screens turned off! Summon the bishops immediately! We need a meeting, we need a meeting!”

The region governed by the Church of the God of Light functioned as a state within a state, and the believers living there had to abide by the Church’s rules.

People living in the diocese naturally accepted this order. They believed that as long as they weren’t cremated or executed by fire, the angels of the God of Light would guide them to heaven after death.

As long as they maintained their devout faith, the God of Light would never abandon them, granting them the courage to fight against demons and allowing them to enjoy divine blessings.

In reality, all clergy knew that the God of Light did exist, and His power was genuine. But did the God of Light truly care about ordinary believers?

The answer was no.

Historically, the God of Light had even caused two disasters—had it not been for the diocese’s whitewashing and blaming the Regent, the single incident of the great smog would have been enough to turn the once-thriving Church into a neglected minor sect.

The God of Light didn’t care about ordinary believers. Every priest of the God of Light knew this well.

But priests had to maintain the lie of the God of Light. Priests had to make believers believe the lie that “the God of Light loves every believer.”

Because lies were the foundation of the diocese’s stability. Lies were the key to the Church’s prosperity.

But now?!

What had that Roman Empire traitor, that bastard Regent, done?!

It was as if he had publicly revealed the rotten core of the Church of the God of Light, showing the believers its true, ugly insides.

Believers were not afraid of divine retribution, because if there was retribution, it meant the God of Light was still watching them. The one punished might be hysterical, but the other believers would become even more united. For the bishops, this was a win-win situation.

But what believers feared most was that the God of Light had no response to their worship, their prayers, their apostasy, their curses.

Especially when the enemies of the God of Light openly humiliated the corpses of believers, insulted their values, and even used the most disgraceful method of execution for believers, the burning at the stake.

This would directly shatter the believers’ faith, and once their faith was broken…

The entire diocese’s industries, except for those of the pious nuns, would collapse.

“Immediately! Make them stop!!”

Bishop Stephen’s scream echoed throughout the mansion. In fact, people had already started trying to deal with the screens in the sky, but it was too late.

Before the diocese’s griffin guards could take to the sky, the Roc Eagles had already flown away with their riders. They had left the image of hope all over the diocese, and most believers had already seen these images clearly.

There were still some stubborn believers who thought, 

“This is just an illusion created by the elves with magic,” 

“God loves humanity, how could He let us suffer?” 

“The elves and demons have already lost, this is just their way of deceiving themselves.” 

They preached the greatness of the God of Light to their fellow believers, trying to restore their confidence in Him.

Especially after the diocese’s griffin knights soared into the sky and shattered those screens, their belief in God’s greatness grew even stronger. But soon, these fanatics began to question.

“If God is watching over us, why would He allow the elves’ griffins to defecate freely in the skies above St. Petersburg, the city of God?”

The believers looked up at the sky, and for a moment, all the towns and villages in the diocese fell into an unusual silence.

They hadn’t yet chosen to believe the truth. After all, Humans often need to face imminent danger or a pressing deadline to recognize the reality of their situation.

The believers chose to remain silent and uneasy in their shock for the time being. Meanwhile, in the urgently convened bishops’ council, including Bishop Peter, everyone was unusually serious.

They exchanged glances and finally decided to address the most pressing issue.

Bishop Peter asked, “Do the penitents know about this?”

The bishop in charge of the penitents shook his head. “We have kept the information tightly controlled. The penitents only think someone is harassing us from the sky. They wanted to come out and fight, but we’ve managed to calm them down.”

“Good. Make sure, absolutely sure, that the penitents and the Saintess do not discover the current situation in St. Petersburg. If they show any signs of coming out, we need to immediately restore St. Petersburg to its state before the Saintess’s retreat. Do you understand?! If the Saintess wants to reappear, even the slightly plump priests must temporarily leave. We must maintain our image in front of the Saintess.”

“Yes, yes!”

The bishops agreed unanimously. After all, they were talking about the penitents and the Saintess of the Church of the God of Light.

In every religion, there was always a small group of people who not only offered extreme devotion but also demanded that others live by the same strict rules.

The penitents and the Saintess of the Church of the God of Light were such people. When the Saintess and the penitents were still active on the surface, even Archbishop Peter himself couldn’t eat salted fish, having to eat chaff along with the peasants. One can only imagine how strict the original rules of the Church were.

In a way, if the penitents and the Saintess discovered how wealthy the Church of the God of Light had become, they might one day use force to cleanse the diocese completely.

Although Archbishop Peter was prepared for the possibility of the Church’s collapse, he knew that now was not the right time for such a disaster.

After ensuring that the Sisters of Austerity had been pacified, the council moved on to their second concern. The catastrophic defeat of the Redemption Army.

The answers were even more alarming. 

Not only had the Redemption Army been decimated, but the priests and Holy Guard had been taken down by some powerful weapon. The priest’s corpse was reduced to just his stumpy lower half, and only a tenth of the Holy Guard knights survived, most of whom were rambling incoherently about divine retribution.

Naturally, the reports of prisoners and corpses being burned alive while survivors, under some spell, remained conscious and publicly renounced their faith in God to the point of cursing Him, hoping for a quick death that never came, were also true.

This raised the second concern among the bishops. Had these events already reached the general populace? They hoped that the footage was only seen in Saint Petersburg. But was that really the case?

Using divine magic, the bishops exchanged worried glances. Their already pale, oily faces now turned slightly green.

Unfortunately, things were worse than they had imagined.

The Roc riders had already broadcast the footage to most of the Church’s territories. While the situation in Saint Petersburg had been addressed, the footage had been playing for a full half-hour in other areas.

“A full half-hour?!”

Archbishop Peter’s anger made his nose twist. He slammed the conference table so hard that it cracked like a spider web. With a sour expression, he glared at Bishop Stephen and exhaled heavily.

“Bishop Stephen! I don’t care how the Redemption Army was defeated, but we must address the aftermath. A decisive victory can restore our followers’ faith and trust, so I want you to secure a victory at any cost, and soon.”

“But, Your Holiness. How can untrained soldiers go into battle?”

“I don’t care! This is something you must accomplish. I must now pray for divine guidance and visit the Saintess. By the way, what about other areas? Have they received the news?”

Archbishop Peter’s words left the bishops in silence.

After another round of magical communication, one bishop finally connected with friends in the capital and the military district.

Fortunately, the Church’s biggest scandal had not yet reached Prince Garson or General Dreycar. However, there was still a risk of the news spreading by word of mouth.

They had to stop the scandal from spreading. Just as the bishops reached a consensus and Archbishop Peter was about to leave, there was a sudden urgent knocking on the conference room door.

Before Archbishop Peter could furrow his brow and grant permission, a pale-faced deacon burst through the door, shouting.

“Bad news! The remnants of the Redemption Army have fled back to the Church’s territory! They are pillaging the surrounding villages. They are openly spreading news of the Redemption Army’s defeat, and even claiming that the elves and demons have divine assistance. Archbishop, bishops, what should we do?”

Silence. An uneasy silence.

Everyone had considered the possibility of the Redemption Army’s remnants, but they hadn’t expected them to return so quickly.

Thinking it over, it made sense. The Monster Forest wasn’t far from the Church’s territory, and border conflicts with the Elven Kingdom were common. It was reasonable that they could return within a few hours.

If it were just the remnants, there wouldn’t be much to fear.

But the real problem was that just moments ago, the scandalous footage was still playing unabashedly in the sky, showing Redemption Army soldiers being burned, roasted, and cursing God without any divine retribution.

This was bad. Everyone turned to Bishop Stephen. 

Bishop Stephen was drenched in sweat. He stood up, about to declare that he would personally lead the elite Northern Expeditionary Force to persuade or annihilate the remnants of the Redemption Army, when another deacon, also pale-faced, burst in.

“More bad news! The demons and elves have attacked the Northern Expeditionary Force’s camp. One of our camps has already been overrun. The elves and demons are killing everyone and burning our supplies. What are we going to do?”

Everyone exchanged glances.

The next moment, one of the bishops, unable to handle the relentless bad news, slumped back in his chair, fainting from the shock.