In the eastern district, after hearing the truth Flor had announced, the believers consciously scattered once more, going door to door to knock on entrances and spread the new faith and divine revelation. Before long, everyone in the Holy City knew of the priests' deception and concealment.
They had harbored grievances for a long time but had not dared to speak of them to others. Only today did they realize that everyone shared the same thoughts, finally gathering their anger into a raging torrent.
They did not need evidence. As long as they believed that the lives controlled by the priests were not what they wanted, they would naturally seize upon irrational madness and seek another vague, illusory possibility.
Flor turned the parchment scroll over and read the words on its reverse: "God said that He would be nailed to the cross, and that we would resurrect Him with faith."
Thus, all the believers left their homes and gathered in the muddy, filthy streets. They charged furiously toward the temple, shouting fragmented slogans. Voices piled atop voices, surging into an indistinguishable tide.
Humans were herd creatures. Their thoughts were swept along by collective beliefs. When one voice grew powerful enough to form a torrent, all discordant sounds would uncontrollably resonate with it, becoming infected and incited, until they were ultimately ground into the same tone.
They might not have been fanatical or devout, but when those around them displayed fanaticism and devotion, they often drew upon their innate talent for imitation, molding equally—if not more deeply—sincere displays of emotion, terrified of falling behind and being cast out.
Amid the chaos, Flor, the one who had received the "divine revelation" and the new prophet chosen by the crowd, raised his right hand to signal for everyone to be quiet.
After making