In the grand church hall, the priest is looking down at a farmer kneeling at his feet.
The patient's originally robust physique had now hunched into a contorted mass, with trembling hands and abnormal purplish discoloration on the skin. Within half a day, these pigmented patches would coalesce into dark spots, eventually spreading throughout the body. By the time of infection today, the patient had already regained sufficient physical strength.
"I know you, who live in Shishan, Dongcheng District, and often bring fresh wheat grains to the Church," the priest said.
"You... remember me! Thank you, Priest," he knelt repeatedly, "my entire family has been afflicted by the evil disease. I... I need the Holy Spirit's remedy. Please—" "But what have you brought to the Church this time?" the priest asked calmly. "The Holy Spirit's remedy isn't something to be given lightly—it requires your whole heart in exchange." "I... my money was stolen by rats while I tried to buy it," Ishiyama trembled. "Forgive my lack of sincerity. I shouldn' t have sought shortcuts from the black market. Now I have only... the last egg left. Please accept it." He pulled a plump egg from his robe and raised it above his head.
"Those who pin their hopes on the black market, rife with deceit and injustice, will inevitably face consequences. Yet God always guides the lost to their way back. Only those who recognize their mistakes will journey further on the path of pilgrimage," Feli said with a smile, taking the egg. "Rise now—God has forgiven you." "Really, really?" Ishiyama asked, his voice trembling with disbelief.
"The Messenger of God never deceives," said Fei Li, gesturing. Another believer promptly approached with a box of spiritual medicine. He selected four bottles and handed them to him. "If I recall correctly, there are four of you in your household?" "Yes, sir," he replied, swallowing hard. Holding the Holy Spirit's potion, he bent down to kiss the priest's shoes. "Thank you, thank you! I will dedicate my life to the Church and to the true God!" The onlookers were deeply moved by this scene, erupting in cheers as they rejoiced at the Church's growing family with a new devotee.
When the cheers subsided, Fei Li pressed his hand downward to signal for silence, then announced loudly, 'Next.'
The dispensing ceremony continued until dusk.
As the Royal Capital's bell tolled at the hour, the priest of the rite declared the day's ceremony concluded and would resume the next morning. Amid the crowd's pleas and entreaties, he departed the grand hall.
Though physically weary, he stood in the temple with undiminished vigor, listening intently to the crowd's pleas and prayers. Seeing their eager attempts to please him, a profound sense of being God himself welled up within him.
No, as God is clearly the Church itself, Feli thought. After developing the plague and the cure, he could easily control others 'lives and deaths. What difference could such power make compared to the true God? He couldn't help but sigh, realizing that the wisest choice he'd made in his life was to abandon the family business and devote himself to the Church.
No one can stand against such power. Wealthy merchants? Powerful nobles? In the face of death, they would willingly abandon everything to secure a chance to survive.
In the rear chamber's lounge, an official named God hurried forward and whispered in his ear,' Your Excellency, a rat has reported suspicious activity. '' What activity? '' The Eastern Frontier refugees. He won't disclose specifics until we meet,' God replied.
Following the Church's prior directives, Feli should fully utilize the Plague and its antidote to convert as many followers as possible for Hermes. Thus, attracting refugees was part of his strategy, though their significance paled in comparison to the capital's citizens. He planned to wait two or three more days, waiting until half of these homeless wanderers had died of illness before leaving the city to provide medical care, while also filling the vacancies left by the refugees. This way, ninety percent of the population in the vast Royal Capital would become Church followers. Such a feat, combined with his earlier claim to the throne, would likely secure him a step closer to the Bishop's position.
In terms of merit-based rewards, the Church demonstrates remarkable fairness, never considering the lineage or status of meritorious individuals. Merit alone is the sole criterion for promotion.
Is there something wrong with the refugee community?
Suppressing his inner doubts, he said calmly, "Take him to the secret chamber. I'll be there shortly." "Yes, sir." Fei Li removed his priest's robe, took a soft armor from the wardrobe, and put it on. He then draped a loose overcoat over it, adjusted himself in the silver mirror, and walked toward the secret chamber.
In a small room beneath the basement, the priest observed the "informant" —a man with disheveled hair, a sallow complexion, and emaciated arms whose skeletal structure was clearly visible. Strangely, however, no signs of melanosis were present on his body.
"Sir, I'm Zhenyan," he knelt before the priest, "I have vital intelligence to share." "Speak." "But..." He looked up at the other two in the spy chamber, hesitating before continuing.
"Alright, this is Shatas God's official, my trusted aide," Feli said. "The other is the Brown-Tooth Granny, who keeps watch over this secret chamber and rarely leaves." "Then I'll tell you what you promised—" "The potion is right here," he said impatiently, pulling out a blue vial and shaking it. "If your intel is valuable, I'll cure your plague." "Sir, I guarantee this information is astonishing," Needle Eye said, raising his head. "People are being transported nonstop. Empty ships litter the canals—I saw it with my own eyes. They'll have taken all the refugees within days." "Those black-spotted patients?" Feli frowned. "You're not seeing things?" He'd received reports of fleets accepting refugees from the Eastern Border before, but that was normal—Nobles everywhere love to exploit disasters or calamities in other territories to harvest labor cheaply. When the plague strikes, those fools will naturally face God's punishment. But now... how could someone knowingly shelter refugees during a plague outbreak?"
"No, they possess a cure for the evil disease! The mercenaries gave the patients a strange potion, and the black patches quickly faded. Some even claimed they came from the Western Frontier, offering food, shelter, and pay to refugees who followed their fleet." Needle Eye paused. "The most astonishing thing is that there's a Witch among them!" "What do you mean?" "Absolutely true, sir!" he exclaimed. "I boarded the ship disguised as a refugee. At first, I didn't notice anything. It wasn't until someone jumped overboard that the mercenaries on shore chased after them. Only then did I realize the dark shadow circling the sky wasn't a bird but a flying Witch. I froze in terror until the sailboat sailed several miles away, completely out of sight. That's when I seized the chance to dive and escape. It took me nearly a full day to return." Needle Eye rubbed his hands. "Sir, do you think this intelligence is worth trading for a bottle of Holy Medicine?" "Wait," Fili asked. "You said they have a cure for the evil disease, and you drank the potion. Does that mean you're not sick now?"
"Well... that's true, but you said you could—anytime you got valuable information," Needle Eye grinned awkwardly, his misaligned yellow teeth flashing.
It was true. He intended to take the bottle of the Holy Spirit Potion, now unused, and sell it on the black market. Fei Li pondered for a moment. "How many are there? Are you sure they're all mercenaries from the caravan?" "Exactly. They have no armor or horses, only wooden pole spears. As for numbers..." Zhen Yan scratched his head. "No more than a hundred!" "What about the ships? Whose are they?" "Well... I don't know. Most don't have flags, and even if they do, I wouldn't recognize them. The mercenaries themselves said the fleet was heading west. Ah... right, he mentioned it was recruiting for the Lord of Border Town." He racked his brains to recall. "Seems like they're expanding their territory. The Lord needs to recruit a large workforce. That's all I can remember." "Very important intelligence," the priest sighed deeply after hearing this. He pulled out the blue potion from his robe and tossed it to Zhen Yan. "Take it. It's yours." "Thank you, Lord!" The latter hurriedly caught the bottle, suddenly trembling with shock. A slender sword pierced his neck, its tip glowing with a cold, eerie light. Standing behind him was the aged chamber steward.