Chapter 872

【 WHAT COMES NEXT, WAR BEGINS 】

The snow had gradually stopped falling, yet the sky remained gloomy and cold, casting a dreary pall over the city.

Amid the crowd, Demacia put away the magical recording crystal in his hand and gazed toward the center of the square, a complicated expression on his face.

“He’s dead? Old John really died just like that?”

Watching the high-ranking nobles and archbishops gradually leave the scene, the players remained somewhat dazed, still struggling to process what they had just witnessed.

“Well, what did you expect? Of course he was going to die. This is Maniya, the Eternal Church’s main stronghold in the world of Seigües.”

Demacia let out a helpless sigh as he spoke.

“Still, as someone who received the Goddess’s blessings, Old John must have returned to the Divine Kingdom by now. In a sense, you could say this marks the beginning of something else.”

As he spoke, Demacia raised his head and gazed toward the sky, his thoughts drifting to what had just happened.

When Old John had been martyred, Demacia had clearly witnessed golden particles of light drifting away from his body. The phenomenon closely resembled what happened when players died, except that the light surrounding Old John had appeared far more sacred and divine.

According to the lore of Elven Kingdom, this was most likely what it looked like when someone ascended to the Goddess’s Divine Kingdom.

“So, what do we do next?”

One of the players asked, his voice tinged with reluctance.

They had traveled all this way, only to fail to rescue the person they had come for. After everything they had gone through, it was hardly surprising that their spirits were low.

“Obviously, we carry on with what he couldn’t finish. We need to spread the word about today’s trial and make sure as many people as possible learn what happened here.”

As he spoke, Demacia’s expression gradually turned solemn. Although they had failed to save Old John, that did not mean their efforts had been entirely in vain. If anything, the events of today had given them another way to fight back against the Eternal Church.

With that, he took out the magical recording crystal once more. Old John’s image could still be faintly discerned within its translucent surface, preserving the final moments of the life preacher’s struggle.

The recording contained Old John’s impassioned denunciation of the Eternal Church, the presiding bishop’s increasingly flustered and furious outbursts, and, finally, the heart-wrenching scene of Old John’s figure disappearing into the flames.

Every moment had been captured, leaving behind a record of the trial that could be shown to countless others.

“Of course, this version still isn’t passionate or moving enough. We’ll need to edit it some more, make the emotional impact stronger, and then… spread it everywhere.”

Demacia paused for a moment before continuing.

“Besides, we need to establish contact with the followers of the Goddess of Life imprisoned in the dungeons beneath Doloria Castle Prison. We can’t leave them there indefinitely, especially now that Old John has been martyred.”

As he examined the crystal-clear recording stone, Demacia narrowed his eyes, an idea gradually taking shape in his mind.

He then turned his head toward the castle prison, his gaze lingering on its imposing silhouette.

“A castle prison that can never be breached, huh…”

The corners of his mouth curled into a faint smirk, revealing a hint of determination beneath his otherwise casual demeanor.

༺⟐༻

Doloria Castle Prison

The heavy doors slowly swung open, allowing a sliver of light to seep into the dark dungeon below. The head guard stepped inside, his figure emerging into view before the prisoners and the guards who had remained behind.

The moment they saw him, the guards’ eyes lit up, and they hurriedly gathered around him, their faces filled with anxiety and anticipation.

“Chief, what’s happening outside?”

“Is Pastor John all right? I heard the Eternal Church was going to put him on trial today…”

“Have the elves made preparations to rescue the Pastor?”

Questions came one after another, reflecting their desperate hope for good news.

Even the prisoners confined to their cells leaned forward, watching the head guard with expectant eyes. For many of them, Pastor John represented more than just a religious leader. He was a source of hope in a place where despair had long since become a part of everyday life.

However, the moment they caught sight of the hollow, despondent expression on the head guard’s face, their hearts sank. His bloodshot eyes and heavy demeanor told them more than words could, and an ominous premonition gradually took hold of everyone present.

“Alas…”

The head guard let out a long, weary sigh.

His eyes were bloodshot, and tears glistened faintly at their corners. He opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something more, but the words seemed to catch in his throat.

“Pastor John… has been martyred.”

His voice broke as he delivered the news, each word laden with unbearable grief.

Upon hearing this devastating announcement, everyone in the dungeon froze in place.

Although many had already suspected that such an outcome was possible, actually hearing the confirmation was another matter entirely. The faint hope they had clung to was extinguished in an instant, leaving nothing but profound sorrow in its wake.

Soft sobs gradually echoed through the dungeon. Before long, the sounds of weeping were accompanied by a chorus of furious curses.

“Damn the Eternal Church! Those wicked, corrupt priests!”

“They’ve taken everything from us. Are they trying to take away our last remaining hope as well?”

The cries of grief and indignation reverberated through the narrow corridors, filling the dungeon with an atmosphere of despair and simmering rage.

Then, a thunderous bang suddenly erupted from the deepest part of the prison.

“Wolf Claw” Charles had slammed his fist against the wall with all his strength.

His entire body trembled, his face contorted with rage, and his eyes blazed like burning coals. Yet beneath that fierce anger lay an immeasurable depth of sorrow, a grief so overwhelming that he could barely contain it.

He gritted his teeth, his fists clenched tightly as he spat out a furious curse.

“Degenerate Eternal Church! I’ll fight you all to the bitter end!”

With a furious snort, he seized the iron bars of his cell and began pulling them apart with a low growl.

Electricity erupted from his body, sending crackling arcs of lightning across the iron bars and illuminating the surrounding darkness. The anti-magic shackles around his limbs immediately responded, unleashing waves of suppressive energy in an attempt to contain the power surging within him.

The resulting electrical discharges coursed through his body, leaving numerous burn marks across his skin. Nevertheless, Charles showed no intention of stopping. He continued wrenching at the iron bars, seemingly willing to endure any amount of pain if it meant breaking free.

Seeing Charles engulfed in crackling arcs of electricity, the head guard’s expression changed dramatically.

“Wolf Claw, what the hell are you doing?! Stop this at once! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”

“I want out!” Charles roared, his voice echoing through the dungeon. “I want to avenge Pastor John!”

“Stop acting like a fool! You’ve been locked up for years, and you’re still just as stubborn as ever! Can’t you do something about that damn temper of yours for once?”

The head guard scolded him sharply, hoping to bring him back to his senses before he seriously injured himself.

Charles abruptly turned toward him, his bloodshot eyes burning with resentment.

“Lyca, don’t you want to avenge the Pastor, too?”

Lyca was the name of the head guard. He had worked at Doloria Castle Prison for more than forty years, making him the most experienced veteran in the entire facility. Over the decades, he had witnessed countless prisoners come and go, along with more tragedies than he cared to remember.

Yet even now, after all those years, the grief in Charles’s voice still struck a chord within him.

“Take revenge? How exactly do you propose we do that? With just the two of us?”

Lyca frowned and continued in a stern voice.

“I know you’re a Gold-ranked expert, but all your powers are suppressed right now. Even if I released you, how far do you think you’d get before they caught you? The castle above us is crawling with high-ranking experts, and there are several Legendary-rankers among them!”

His words were harsh, but they reflected the reality of their situation.

Doloria Castle Prison was no ordinary prison. Its defenses were formidable, and the powerful experts stationed throughout the castle made any attempt at a direct escape an almost certain death sentence.

Charles understood this perfectly well. However, the thought of Pastor John’s death had left him consumed by grief and fury, making it difficult for him to accept that they could do nothing in response.

“Then what are we supposed to do?!” he demanded bitterly.

“Pastor John sacrificed himself for us, and we’re just going to remain trapped here without doing anything? We’re supposed to sit around and wait while the people responsible for his death continue living as though nothing happened?”

His voice grew hoarse, and his fists trembled.

“How is that any different from being dead?”

For a moment, Lyca remained silent.

He looked at the distraught Charles, then glanced at the other prisoners and guards who were watching them with expressions of grief and indignation. The entire prison seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for someone to offer them a reason to keep going.

Finally, Lyca let out another heavy sigh.

“I’ve already contacted Sir Demacia and established a connection with the Church of Life. From now on, they’ll continue providing us with covert assistance.”

His words immediately drew everyone’s attention.

“Everyone, listen carefully. We haven’t been abandoned, and this isn’t the end.”

Lyca’s expression gradually grew more resolute as he continued.

“I’ll find a way to get us all out of here. We’ll avenge the Pastor, fight for our freedom, and struggle for the future he wanted us to have. But we can’t afford to act recklessly. We still need time.”

He paused, allowing his words to sink in before continuing.

“Doloria Castle Prison is heavily guarded. If we attempt a mass breakout by force right now, the casualties will be devastating. We might not even make it out of the castle alive.”

His gaze swept across the assembled prisoners and guards.

“Instead, we need to continue building our strength from within. We’ll recruit more comrades among the prisoners and establish deeper connections with those inside the castle who share our beliefs. We’ll wait patiently until the right opportunity presents itself.”

There was no denying the frustration and grief weighing on everyone’s hearts. Nevertheless, Lyca’s words offered them something they desperately needed: a reason to hold on.

“Don’t worry, everyone. It won’t be long before we stand beneath the sunlight again.”

His voice grew firmer, carrying through the dungeon with renewed conviction.

“For now, conserve your strength and prepare yourselves. Don’t forget what Pastor John hoped for us to achieve. His sacrifice must not be in vain.”

Lyca clenched his fists, his eyes filled with determination.

“Everything we do is for a better future!”

༺⟐༻

The World Tree’s Divine Kingdom, Garden of Eden

Countless stars glittered brilliantly across the cosmic expanse, while lush forests teemed with life.

Elemental fairies danced gracefully among the trees, and the Einherjars within the Divine Kingdom stood facing the Supreme Temple, bowing in continuous worship.

At the heart of Eden, within the Supreme Temple, Evé sat upon her divine throne.

She deactivated the players’ perspective projection of the execution in Maniya’s central square and let out a faint sigh.

After a moment, she sighed once more before gently raising her hand.

At her gesture, a subtle, mysterious force spread outward, reaching into the void and drawing upon something unseen.

Gradually, tiny golden particles of light began to gather, and a hazy figure slowly took shape.

He wore a pristine priestly robe. His frame was somewhat thin, yet he stood perfectly upright.

There was no mistaking him.

It was Old John, the man who had died in the Purifying Flames.

More precisely, it was his soul.

His appearance was still somewhat translucent, and his eyes were vacant and lifeless. Only after the golden light faded did his gaze gradually regain a measure of awareness and clarity.

“This… Where am I…?”

Looking at the magnificent temple surrounding him, Old John appeared bewildered.

However, as he sensed the nearly tangible divine power filling the air and saw the sacred, beautiful figure seated upon the divine throne, he quickly realized what had happened.

Overcome with emotion, he immediately prostrated himself on the ground, his voice filled with reverence and fervent devotion.

“Y-Your Divine Majesty!”

“Rise. There is no need for such formalities.”

Evé spoke softly.

A gentle force flowed outward, slowly lifting Old John to his feet.

Hearing the Goddess’s voice, Old John grew even more emotional. Tears welled up in his eyes as he spoke with a hint of self-reproach.

“Your Divine Majesty… Please forgive me. I have yet to spread Your faith to every corner of Seigües. I, John, have disappointed You.”

Seeing his ashamed expression, Evé gently shook her head.

“No. You have done well. As one of my devout believers and someone who has received my blessings, you have done everything within your power.”

“Your Divine Majesty…”

Hearing these comforting words from the Goddess, Old John was deeply moved. Tears streamed down his face, and he nearly fell to his knees again.

Evé stopped him before he could do so. Her expression turned solemn, and her voice took on a majestic authority.

“John, your words and deeds have earned my recognition. You were one of my missionaries, and you have now been martyred for your faith. My other believers already regard you as a Saint. Are you willing to become my first human Divine Envoy?”

Creating a demigod was an exceedingly difficult task.

There was, however, one exception. When a true god’s believer died and their faith had reached the level of a Saint, the process became much easier.

Because of the profound alignment between a Saint’s faith and the divine power of their Patron Deity, a true god could elevate such a believer into a demigod with relative ease. For this reason, Saints had always been considered potential Divine Envoys by the true gods.

By the time Old John had been martyred, his faith had already reached the level of a Saint. His soul had consequently become capable of withstanding divine power originating from the same source as his faith. Under these circumstances, elevating him to the rank of Divine Envoy was simply the natural culmination of his spiritual ascension.

Old John was overcome with joy. He immediately knelt reverently before Evé.

“I, John, am willing to become Your servant, Your Divine Majesty!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, golden light blossomed around him. Brilliant divine power surged in from every direction, enveloping his soul and beginning its transformation.

The divine power entered his body, and his form gradually became solid. The aura that had once been weak and frail grew stronger with every passing moment.

A short while later, the light faded.

Old John now wore robes even more sacred and magnificent than before, and his appearance had become youthful and handsome.

Points of radiant light swirled around him. They were the radiance of faith itself, a visible manifestation of the devotion that bound him to the Goddess.

He bowed once more to Evé, his voice trembling with excitement.

“I, John, thank Your Divine Majesty for Your trust!”

Evé smiled faintly.

“You have earned it.”

Then her expression grew solemn once more.

“John, from this day forward, you will assist me in managing matters concerning the faith of my human believers throughout the world of Seigües.”

Old John was visibly excited.

“I shall obey Your divine decree!”

After giving the newly elevated demigod instructions concerning his duties, Evé dismissed him.

Elevating Old John into a demigod-rank Divine Envoy had cost her nearly two hundred points of divine power. For Evé at her current level, this was a negligible expense.

As someone who had received her divine favor, Evé had witnessed everything Old John had experienced.

Yet when he was martyred, she had not intervened to save him.

The reason was that she had sensed the powerful divine aura of the Eternal Lord enveloping the capital city of Maniya. Intervening rashly under those circumstances might have triggered a war with Etriōu prematurely.

Until the Eternal Church in the world of Seigües had been weakened sufficiently, starting a holy war was not the best course of action.

After all, the Pantheon was still suppressing the core origin of the world of Seigües.

Nevertheless, although a holy war was not yet an option, the next stage of the conflict between the two churches could now be set in motion.

Presumably, burning John at the stake had been part of Etriōu’s plan as well.

With that thought, Evé’s gaze pierced through the void and swept across the vast world of Seigües.

Her eyes grew increasingly profound…

༺⟐༻

Old John had officially become a Divine Envoy, and from that point onward, he remained in the Garden of Eden, assisting Evé with its affairs.

Although Divine Envoys could descend into the world of Seigües, Old John had no intention of doing so anytime soon.

As he put it, he was already dead, and a dead man was the most powerful kind of social symbol. If he were to return to the mortal world as a Divine Envoy, he might undermine the impact of his own martyrdom.

There was some truth to this.

Martyrs inspired remembrance, and in many cases, the power of that remembrance was stronger than anything else.

Nevertheless, Evé did not conceal the news that Old John had become a Divine Envoy. Instead, she made it public.

For the countless believers of the Goddess of Life, the story of a human missionary who had been martyred, ascended to her Divine Kingdom, and become a Divine Envoy was an inspiring tale in its own right.

In Evé’s view, this did not diminish the significance of his martyrdom.

The story of someone ascending to heaven after death, leaving behind only their name and no physical presence, could sometimes have an even greater impact. A person did not need to remain completely and permanently dead for their sacrifice to carry meaning.

However, before news of Old John’s transformation into a Divine Envoy could spread throughout the Church of Life, the trial in Maniya’s Central Square had already spread across the continent at an astonishing speed.

The Saint of the Goddess of Life, who had faced death with unwavering courage; the hypocritical and shameless presiding bishop; the nobles who had flown into a rage out of humiliation; and the restless, agitated masses…

The entire trial was being circulated in the form of magical recordings across countless regions.

Moreover, the footage had been professionally edited to make it more concise and emotionally compelling. Carefully selected background music heightened the viewers’ anger, sorrow, and admiration, while guiding them toward moments of sudden realization at precisely the right times.

The edited version also included comparative footage of the Elven Forest, Maple Moon Free Territory, and various regions of the Empire.

The enchanting beauty of the Elven Forest and the prosperity of Maple Moon Free Territory stood in stark contrast to the warfare and poverty that plagued many parts of the Empire.

Combined with other magical recordings depicting the oppression of commoners by imperial nobles and the collusion among high ranking clerical figures of the Eternal Church, the footage provoked public outrage while prompting people to reflect more deeply on the state of their society.

Underground black markets, traveling merchants, wandering bards, adventurers…

For a time, it seemed as though the entire world had learned about Old John’s trial. People everywhere heard of Old John’s denunciation of the Eternal Church and his appeal to the common people.

As a result, increasing numbers of people throughout various human nations converted to the faith of the Goddess of Life. More and more people began to take Old John’s words seriously and reflect on the future of the Empire.

In the streets and alleys, in taverns and inns, travelers could be heard discussing the trial almost everywhere.

In the black markets, scriptures and various books published by the Church of Life sold out rapidly, with demand far exceeding supply.

Ultimately, Old John’s message had reached the people he had hoped to reach.

Not long after this Saint of the Goddess of Life was martyred, a divine decree that shook the entire continent was issued from the Eternal Church’s central headquarters in Maniya.

The Eternal Church had officially declared war on the Church of Life!

Thus, the two most powerful churches in the world of Seigües had finally entered into holy war.

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