Holy Swordsman

After leaving the apartment safely, Rayne walked on and threw the bag in his hand into a roadside trash can five blocks away.

After walking a little farther, he entered a station. Before long, a Public Bus pulled up by the roadside.

Thick white smoke billowed from the rear of the bus. It looked much like a bus from Earth, only larger and more crude. It had two levels, no glass windows or air conditioning, and could carry over a hundred people when packed full.

Rayne squeezed aboard and took the one Copper Liso he had prepared from his pocket, handing it to the conductor.

The conductor was a middle-aged woman. She tore off a ticket and handed it over, her gaze lingering briefly on Rayne's face. Her previously expressionless face broke into a smile. "Young man, there are still seats in the back. Go on in."

"Thank you." Rayne gave a slight nod and pulled his sun hat lower.

After squeezing toward the back of the bus, he thought that sometimes being too handsome was not a good thing. When he needed to keep a low profile, he was too easily noticed.

Looks like I need to disguise my face a little, so I won't stand out too much.

Rayne had just sat down when the driver rang the large bell at the front of the bus. It went clang, clang, clang, warning pedestrians to move aside. Then the bus lurched into motion, gradually picking up speed.

The Public Bus headed east, its final stop being Rienfular, the poorest area of Longshande City, derisively called the slums by its residents.

In the early days, most residents of Lien District were country people who had just come to the city to make a living. Unable to afford the high rents, they worked in factories during the day and could only live in the most remote parts of the city at night. Over time, the slums took shape.

No matter the world, poor areas were always fertile ground for criminals.

Lien was Longshande's largest district, located in the east and occupying nearly a third of the entire city. Yet its public safety was the worst in Longshande. Drifters, gang members, criminals, unemployed loafers, and hundreds of thousands of poor people lived there in a chaotic mix. Many dangerous figures hid among them. Murders happened almost every day, not to mention the countless shady deals conducted there.

Anyone with even a shred of respectability would not want to live in Rienfular.

That was precisely Rayne's goal. He did not want former classmates or friends to recognize him, letting word reach Ramsey. And those who could enter the academy generally came from decent financial backgrounds, so they rarely ventured into the dangerous slums.

He would hide in Rienfular for a while first. It would also make things easier for him later.

His gaze swept across the bus.

Since it was not rush hour, the bus was not full. Most passengers were dressed plainly, or more accurately, shabbily. Every one of them carried a deep weariness, sitting there with numb expressions as though they had been tortured by hopeless lives and were struggling painfully to survive.

Rayne withdrew his gaze, leaned against the rusty seatback, and narrowed his eyes to rest.

Before long, the bus entered Lien District.

The scenery along the streets gradually became monotonous. The roads narrowed, the houses grew denser, and both sides of the streets became clamorous. All kinds of vendors packed the roadside, hawking their goods at the tops of their lungs: bread, cigarettes, fruit, beer, newspapers... and countless other common goods.

Beggars could be seen everywhere in the corners by the roadside.

They were poorly clothed. Some sat there begging, while others lay motionless on the ground like corpses. Yet not a single passing pedestrian spared them a glance.

The driver kept ringing the bell, telling the crowded pedestrians to make way.

Even inside the bus, he could occasionally smell the stench wafting in from the streets. It came from the roadside drains and was nauseating enough to make one vomit, but the passengers had long since grown used to it. No one even complained.

Rayne did not ride all the way to the final stop. He got off midway.

The moment he stepped off the bus, seven or eight ragged children surrounded him. They were all thin and sallow, their eyes filled with hunger and cunning.

Rayne did not let sympathy overwhelm him. Few of these begging children were likely innocent; most of them probably doubled as pickpockets. He inconspicuously pressed a hand over the money hidden close to his body, then sped out of the station before they could completely surround him, shaking off the children.

He cautiously walked along the street, intending to find a cheap inn to stay in as a base for the future.

Walking through Lien District, Rayne's strongest impression was that there were people everywhere.

It reminded him of videos of Indian slums he had watched online before. They were just as crowded, and wherever he went, pairs of ill-intentioned eyes watched him, making his skin crawl.

Still, even in another world, Lien District was much better than India's slums.

At least among the three things—filthy, chaotic, and poor—Lien District only had the latter two. It was not quite so filthy.

Suddenly, an open space appeared at the intersection ahead.

It was a small square. On one side stood a towering church. The church was not particularly large, but two rows of tall round pillars stood neatly at its front. Its walls and dome were built from stone, giving it a weighty, epic feel.

This was a Church of Justice church. There were many such churches throughout Longshande, each responsible for a designated area.

No wonder no one dares approach the square. Rayne suddenly understood.

The Empire had three orthodox Churches officially supported by the state, and the Church of the God of Justice was one of them.

Although the God of Justice did not have the most followers, this deity was the most imposing. People both revered and feared Him, and unless necessary, tried to avoid dealing with His Church.

The Divine Duty of the God of Justice, Tyrael, included justice, order, law, fairness, and protection. Most of His followers worked in fields related to the judiciary and public security.

Under normal circumstances, anyone connected to the Church of Justice was either a victim or someone being judged.

Neither situation was good, so people naturally kept their distance out of respect and fear.

Besides the Church of Justice, the Empire's other two orthodox Churches were the Goddess of Magic's Church of Knowledge and Magic and the Earth Mother Goddess's Church of the Earth. Together, the three were known as the Triple God Church.

Most of the Empire's people believed in one of these three deities.

Rayne's entire family were followers of the Goddess of Magic. In his memories, his mother Malinda had been an especially devout believer. Before meals, before sleep, or whenever she had spare time, she prayed to the Goddess. She was a teacher at the Church school in their hometown and also a missionary, spreading the Goddess's Light of Wisdom to her students.

However, the previous Rayne seemed less devout in his faith. He prayed very rarely, only once every ten days or half a month.

As he passed the square, Rayne glanced inside the church.

Just as he was about to look away, a resounding bell suddenly rang from the top of the church, carrying far into the distance.

At the same time, a squad of guards in bright silver armor emerged from the church's main entrance. They descended the stone steps one by one, their footsteps loud and orderly, before arriving in the square.

Such a huge commotion immediately caused pedestrians on the street to stop and gather toward the square.

"What happened?"

Like everyone else, Rayne stood there and watched curiously.

More and more people gathered around the square, and soon it was packed so tightly that not even water could pass through. Rayne stood near the very front. Even if he wanted to leave, he could not squeeze out, and was forced to become one of the onlookers.

The silver-armored guards spread out across the center of the square. Their armor reflected the light. Their longswords rested against the stone pavement, both hands pressed on the pommels. They stood completely still like statues, exuding solemnity and authority.

Rayne was only a few steps away from the guards, so he took the opportunity to observe them.

The guards wore full plate armor of exceptionally fine workmanship, forged from complete metal plates and assembled from many parts: breastplates, pauldrons, vambraces, gauntlets, greaves, boots, and more. Their elbows and knees were linked by intricate clasps. Together with their nearly enclosed helmets, which only had T-shaped slits at the front, the entire suit of armor was astonishingly heavy, like an iron can.

Ordinary people might find it difficult even to walk in such heavy armor, yet these guards moved freely and stood there with ease.

That detail made Rayne sense their formidable strength. He immediately remembered that these guards were Holy Sword Attendants of the Church of Justice.

The Church of Justice had an extremely powerful extraordinary profession known as Holy Swordsmen. They usually wore heavy armor and excelled at swordsmanship and the power of the mind.

Every Holy Swordsman was carefully trained by the Church from childhood. They were the God of Justice's most loyal followers, carrying out His divine revelations, maintaining order, protecting law and fairness, and serving as the God of Justice's representatives in the mortal world!

Before becoming Holy Swordsmen, however, they were called Holy Sword Attendants.

Holy Sword Attendants were still ordinary people, merely possessing strength beyond that of ordinary people after long training. They served as reserves for Holy Swordsmen or spent their entire lives as Church guards.

Clang!

Another bell rang from inside the church, and another group of people emerged.

At their head was a tall middle-aged man. He too wore full plate armor and had a white cape draped behind him, but he did not wear a helmet, allowing people to see his face clearly.

His features were resolute, his gaze sharp. He had short brown hair and a trimmed beard on his chin. He was extremely powerfully built, his strides steady and strong. He carried himself with upright dignity as he walked, making everyone who saw him think that he was someone trustworthy, someone they could rely on.

The middle-aged man carried a sword in one hand. It was longer and wider than an ordinary longsword, yet it was not a two-handed sword. It looked as though it could be wielded with one hand or gripped with both.

Rayne noticed a golden scale engraved on his breastplate. The scale's central support was a sword, its point facing downward and piercing a book of law!

That is the holy emblem of the God of Justice. Rayne had seen the symbol before and recognized it at once.

People called out the middle-aged man's name. "Lord Demps!"

"Holy Swordsmen are truly impressive..."

"Of course. Lord Demps is no ordinary Holy Swordsman. I heard he broke through to the intermediate rank long ago. He might be promoted and transferred soon."

Two guards followed behind Demps, carrying a black platform.

The platform was cast from metal and only waist-high. There was a downward indentation in the middle, and dark red blotches covered its surface, like bloodstains left behind by something that had splattered across it.

The moment the black platform appeared, the townspeople cried out in alarm.

Someone nearby whispered fearfully, "A guillotine! A judgment ritual! Has someone fallen into corruption? Or has someone's curse erupted?"

Then people saw the answer.

A listless-looking man was escorted out by the guards. A silver chain was wrapped around him, binding his upper body tightly. His hands were tied behind his back, shackles locked around his ankles, and he struggled down the steps before the church one step at a time.

"Luis!"

Someone in the crowd recognized the man bound by chains.

The man named Luis had originally been dazed and muddled. When someone suddenly called his name, he jolted awake and shouted, "Let me go! What are you doing?"