Night Falls

Wood's expression went through a kaleidoscope of changes—from confusion to doubt, from doubt to conflict, then from conflict to gravity—before finally settling into overwhelming delight.

Dina stared stupidly at her Second Young Master, completely unable to understand what everyone was talking about.

Xiulunte's mind was also struggling to process it. He looked at Wood with uncertainty, trying to find an answer he could accept.

Even the diocesan guards who normally never left Wood's side were utterly dumbfounded.

As an old swindler who had spent years bluffing, cheating, and playing god, Wood found himself the center of attention. He put on a modest act, waved his hand, and said calmly, "My lord, you flatter me. Miss Di-whatever-Nana merely lost her way in the past. I only gave her a little guidance and let her bathe in the Holy Father's radiance."

Wood felt as though he had just ridden a roller coaster, and his acting was several times better than usual. His exaggerated expression, his tone that practically screamed he was full of crap, and his shifty little thief's eyes all seemed to be saying: I'm making this up. Even I don't believe it. Do you?

Xiulunte wanted nothing more than to stab him to death with a sword.

Seeing that Wood was playing along so well, Allen kindly added, "Old Wood, you're being far too modest. Dina, as the Candidate Saintess of the diocese personally chosen by you, was completely moved by your teachings."

"Ah? A diocesan... Saintess?" Wood's smile froze on his face. He felt as if he had been set up again. The feeling was strangely familiar.

A diocesan Saintess was a Candidate Saintess at Holy See headquarters: an unmarried woman of suitable age whose duty was to serve the Supreme God for life. Her status within the Holy See was exceedingly exalted. Though she held little actual authority, even a cardinal had to take the initiative to greet her humbly. She was practically the goddaughter of the Supreme God, the Holy See's ultimate boss.

If the Supreme God, the Holy Father, was the hidden majority shareholder, then the Pope was the boss in public. A Saintess was like the Pope's sworn sister—someone who could walk sideways through the Holy See.

Because a Saintess devoted her entire life to the Holy Father and the Holy See, she was sacred, pure, and inviolable.

As the bishop of Outpost County, Wood should have had the authority to select suitable local women as Candidate Saintesses, but he had never once considered it.

The reason was simple. Did Outpost County have women? Of course it did—female assassins, female killers, female warriors, female butchers, female widows, female wanted criminals, perhaps even female mages. It had everything.

But women of suitable age, especially women of suitable age who looked sacred, and especially especially women of suitable age who looked sacred and were still virgins...

Sorry, you should look somewhere else. Outpost County did not produce such freaks.

Wood looked at the mighty and imposing Dina, his face turning deathly pale as he cursed Allen's ancestors from top to bottom in his heart.

Big brother, we're talking about a Holy See Saintess, not the annual female arena champion, okay? What was a Saintess? She was the Holy See's sacred symbol of purity.

Was Dina sacred? Quite sacred, actually. With that sturdy build, if she truly entered a Saintess selection, she could clear out an entire street with just her fists. Even if a hundred Candidate Saintesses from across the continent were piled together, they might not withstand a single kick from her.

Was Dina pure? Judging by her eyes, she was indeed pure—so pure that there was no saving her. As for clean, Dina was certainly very clean. After all, she had been a maid by trade.

Wood was not the only one stunned. Xiulunte was completely dumbfounded as well.

As though struck by a bolt from the blue, Xiulunte suddenly understood.

Comparisons really did make people furious.

At last, he understood. No wonder he had fought, bled, and killed countless people just to become a Legion Commander. Put nicely, he was a Legion Commander. Put bluntly, he was nothing more than a high-ranking thug.

Then he looked at those sanctimonious bishops. With a few casual words, the Holy See's mortal enemy had rushed into the Holy Father's embrace.

Killing a powerful enemy was not as good as making that enemy submit and become an example to all other enemies.

Xiulunte understood that simple truth, but understanding it did not mean he believed Allen and Wood's nonsense.

But what could he do even if he did not believe it? He could imagine that if the cardinals and the Great Pope learned this news, they would wake up laughing in their dreams.

Xiulunte knew he had been set up today, but what could he do? Have his knights kill a Titan Bloodline awakener who now believed in the Supreme God and was running for Saintess?

If he truly did that, the ascetics from Holy See headquarters would certainly send him to the stake. If they roasted him anything less than medium-well, it would count as the Pope showing great mercy.

With an unwilling expression, Xiulunte walked up to Dina, who stood half a head taller than him, and asked word by word, "You... truly... believe in... the Holy Father?"

After glancing at her Second Young Master, Dina replied in confusion, "I believe in Kakarou, the God of the Wasteland. What's wrong?"

Wood's face changed drastically as he began trembling. Xiulunte revealed a savage grin, his right hand reaching for the sword at his waist.

Allen viciously pinched Dina's thick waist and gave her a meaningful look.

Only then did Dina lower her head with an odd expression and say, "The almighty Father created heaven, earth, and all things. All the other gods spoken of among us are His people." After finishing the first half, Dina could not remember the second half her Second Young Master had taught her. She could only mutter smartly under her breath, "It's all the same whoever I believe in. I believe in my father, my father believes in my grandfather—aren't they all the same?"

Those who had only heard the first half of Dina's words all wore different expressions.

Xiulunte's face went pale, and for a long while, he could not speak.

Sakre looked as though he had seen an old sow with double eyelids batting her lashes at him, his handsome face flushed red. Like a toad gasping for air, the young count stood there with his mouth wide open in utter shock.

Wood dropped to his knees and muttered, "Yes, all the other false gods—ah, no, all the gods—are the Supreme God's people."

Old Laixi smiled as he watched the smug Allen. He felt that the Holy See's newest propaganda slogan had just been born.

The General Affairs Hall of Outpost County was still a field of ruins. Yorkshire stood atop the rubble, on the verge of tears.

Xiulunte left. Before departing, he did not offer even a single polite word. He merely led his knights out of the city in silence. Yet the venomous look he gave Allen before leaving left a deep impression on everyone.

As a noble of high standing, Allen paid no mind at all to Xiulunte's threatening face. He wore a smile that said, "I love that you can't stand me, but can't do a thing about me."

Everyone knew the two had become enemies. But whether the east wind would overpower the west wind or the west wind would overpower the east wind, no one dared jump to conclusions. They could only wait and see.

No one present was an idiot. Anyone who still regarded Allen as that useless lord who only knew how to eat and sleep would be the real fool. From Allen's recent performance, everyone knew that he was fully capable of going toe-to-toe with Xiulunte, one of the finest of the younger generation.

Everything that happened today changed many people.

It changed Allen, turning him from a useless lord and idiotic noble into a devout believer of the Supreme God. It also made everyone realize that the boy was a true method actor, especially skilled at laying traps and digging pits.

It changed Dina, turning her from a barbarian maid who drifted through life into a highly revered Candidate Saintess of the diocese. It also made her a genuine barbarian traitor—meaning someone born among barbarians whose heart favored humanity.

It changed Old Butler Leisi, making him the first person in history to kill a Magus of limitless potential merely by moving his lips, without losing even a single hair.

Any elemental user on the continent who advanced to Magus had the potential for unlimited growth. Whether they became an Archmage or even a Saint-level Mage closest to divinity, their greatest bottleneck had always been advancing to Magus. Unfortunately, the water-element Magus Hels's corpse was already cold.

It changed Yorkshire, turning him from an ordinary clerk into the great hero of Outpost County who had fought to the death against the Wasteland Bandits.

Oh, and Xiulunte's guards, who were already thoroughly dead, were those "Wasteland Bandits who committed every evil." Whether the many people involved in Outpost County believed it or not, the outside world and the City of Locke believed it.

After all, those "Wasteland Bandits" had once tried to attack the local lord and the Candidate Saintess, while Xiulunte completely denied any connection to them.

It changed Sakre. Since childhood, he had dreamed of becoming a Sword Saint and making his name ring across the continent, but now his entire worldview had been overturned. He discovered that beating up a Holy See Legion Commander was no big deal, getting a Holy See Consecrated Mage killed was no big deal, falsifying the Holy Father's decree, randomly invoking the Supreme God's blessings, and spouting nonsense in the names of gods were even less of a big deal.

Allen had inadvertently made Sakre understand one thing: as long as you were shameless enough, anything was possible.

Yet after all this, the person who changed the most was Xiulunte, who had suffered the heaviest losses.

On his way back to the military camp, he secretly swore that he would never take an afternoon nap again. He looked back at the barren gates of Outpost County.

An old childhood ballad surfaced uncontrollably in Xiulunte's mind. It was "Night Falls," a work by the Duchy of Rothel's famous poet, Ya Adu: "Ah, when I close my eyes, I am napping. My dreams feel hollowed out. When I wake, everything is shattered. The taste of blood fills my mouth. Houses silently crumble before my eyes. Former attendants lie naked in heaps."

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