Chapter 1622: Chapter 349: The Compassionate Ye Before

Most people live ordinary lives. Unless disaster strikes, who would lose hope for the future?

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…

At night, Vasco came back to his senses from meditation, and his divine power had mostly recovered. He wondered if he met that mysterious young man again, he’d likely… still be suppressed once more.

No one offered Vasco any advice, but this was indeed the only thought in his mind at the moment.

The main force of the Holy Church had not yet arrived. He suddenly remembered what Father Stretta had said before, feeling a vague sense of unease—but then he thought that the main force of the Holy Church was led by a Four-winged Descending Angel, and his heart was slightly comforted.

The phone rang. It was a call from several Paladin trainees staying in an apartment outside.

Vasco checked the time, wondering if he’d been too heavy-handed, as those kids were only just waking up now… He answered the call, and a series of anxious inquiries came directly from the other side.

“I’m fine… From now on, stay in the apartment until I return; meanwhile, you can order delivery,” he said.

After disconnecting the call, Vasco left the room and made his way through the building to the chapel, finally seeing Father Stretta inside.

The chapel was not lit but filled with many white candles… On the seats, the floor, and even the steps, the candlelight flickered due to the breeze caused by Vasco opening the door. He saw Father Stretta sitting on the ground.

In front of Father Stretta was a fire basin, and he was continuously throwing square, coarse paper into it, paper which he seemed to have torn from somewhere unknown.

“What are you doing?” Vasco frowned and approached Father Stretta.

Father Stretta looked up, gestured for silence, “Quiet, can’t you see I’m performing a ritual? I’m offering salvation for the one who died today!”

“Salvation?” Vasco couldn’t help but be startled, instinctively saying, “Since it’s salvation, why aren’t you reciting scriptures and praying?”

Of course, he knew what salvation was.

Clergy from the Holy Church roamed the Oth Continent, exorcising resentful spirits and later offering salvation to the souls. But Stretta’s method was clearly not the Holy Church’s process; he wondered what craziness the foolish priest was up to.

“You don’t understand,” Father Stretta said, with a serious demeanor, “The Holy Church’s methods don’t work, I stopped believing in them long ago! This one’s called the Burning Ritual Clothes, something I learned from the old monk who taught me the Virgin Boy Technique. I heard it’s very effective. Don’t be skeptical, you old fool. Look, when we used to pray for the souls, we did nothing but moved our lips. Those souls left with nothing, died poor and remained poor after death. Isn’t that cruel? But this burning clothes method is different; we burn more wealth for them, and now, with technological advancements, we can even burn them girlfriends. Look at how happy that could make them; it’s solving the problem from the root!”

Vasco was dumbfounded by this ranting charlatan, finally remembering something important, “Who are you offering salvation to?”

Father Stretta sighed, curiously asking, “I already mentioned, to that middle-parted Red-robed Hub and a bunch of weak Paladins and useless priests!”

Vasco glared at Father Stretta, his face darkening. After a long while, he stormed out of the room—if this hadn’t been a sacred place, he might have chosen to kick the door.

Father Stretta continued sitting alone in front of the fire basin, burning ritual clothes. Atang climbed out from under the bench, rubbing against Father Stretta’s leg in a friendly manner.

Suddenly, the priest slapped his thigh abruptly, “What if I die one day, and no one burns ritual clothes for me?”

Saying this, he grabbed a bundle of gold and silver paper treasures and rushed to the courtyard, dug a hole, buried the paper treasures, then lifted Atang’s eyes to face the burial spot, earnestly saying, “Remember this place, my happiness in the World of the Deceased depends on you!”

Atang struggled free from Father Stretta’s grasp, and before leaving even managed to swipe at the priest’s face… without leaving a scratch.

Cursing under his breath, Father Stretta chased after him and quickly disappeared.

Forgotten in the corner of the courtyard, Mai Rada cautiously peeked out, then shrank back.

Earlier in the evening, he found a broken saw blade, and was using it to saw the chain of the shackles on his legs, looking close to success.

He wasn’t planning to gather supplies this time. He intended to escape as soon as the chain broke, taking the big iron ball with him out of this chapel.

Although this chapel surely hid some incredible treasure, Mai Rada had lost interest at the moment—why did he think the chapel contained treasures?

Others didn’t know it was actually rebuilt from a large pit, but could he possibly be unaware?

The destroyed chapel had reappeared out of thin air!

But at this moment, he really had no intention to search for potential treasures inside the chapel—he had sensed Hades’ power! The kind of power that would instantly take away the lives of all the Paladins and clergy, as described by the Dark Master of the Soth Divine Tribe!

Even though Mai Rada lost the crystal box given to him by the Dark Master to sense Hades… he encountered it without needing the crystal box, didn’t he?

Mai Rada even felt his lost luck returning, so his hands working the iron chain accelerated, nearly grinding them to bleeding!

His breathing grew more rapid, his eyes filled with blood, like a bull.

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…

When Lamias returned to the estate, it was already after dinner.

Ms. Ren was now both filthy and covered in ash.

Her car was basically ruined, but fortunately, despite her pitiable appearance, a brave male student sent her near the estate.

Yet a sudden local downpour then caused Lamias to stumble into a mud pit; as she climbed out, she spotted a wild boar foraging—who knew why there would be a wild boar there?

But thanks to years of training, though human, her body had exceptional fitness—at least she escaped the wild boar’s deadly fate, managing to flee.

Yet as she scrambled mindlessly through the wild, her clothes were torn by bushes and branches, even losing one of her shoes.

As she reached the estate’s front gates, she felt a rebirth-like gratitude, almost bringing her to prayerful kneeling.

Then… she stepped on a sea urchin.

“Wh… why?”

She seemed to express despair, silently pulling the sea urchin out of her sole, before staggering into the estate, arriving at the house’s door.

Before she could knock, the door slowly opened. A gentle, warm light spilled out through the gap, and within this glow stood the silhouette of the Maid Ms., not illuminated clearly.

“Oh my, Ms. Lamias, you’re back?” the Maid Ms. exclaimed, surprised, “It’s so late, you should have informed us… Dinner time is already over, you know.”

Lamias sneered inwardly… Notify? Did you ever tell me your phone number?

“Don’t worry.” The maid smiled slightly and said, “If you feel hungry, I can prepare a meal for you right away. I’m quite confident in my cooking.”

Lamias initially thought not to eat this charity meal, but upon recalling that she hadn’t eaten much all day, she realized her ordinary body couldn’t withstand it… Even if this maid tried to make things difficult, Lamias wasn’t one to be toyed with. She’s been painstakingly trained from a young age, faced numerous challenges, what peculiar ingredients hasn’t she tried?

As long as it’s protein, it’s all crunchy!

“Then I’ll trouble you, I really am a bit hungry.” Lamias smiled slightly, despite looking quite disheveled at the moment, she still maintained a smile.

But when she saw the large plate of sea urchin dishes placed in front of her, Lamias felt that she might have been too naive.

“Well then, Ms. Lamias, enjoy your meal.” The maid spoke softly, “Furthermore, after nine o’clock, I hope you can keep quiet, otherwise you’ll disturb the master’s rest.”

“I usually sleep early.”

The maid nodded and happily left… Lamias looked at the large bowl of sea urchin rice, hesitated briefly, but eventually her instinct to replenish energy overcame her worries, and she took a tiny bite.

“Delicious!”

She was quite surprised, her eyes widened instantly, feeling as if her entire being had been cleansed, even her messy hair seemed much smoother.

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Ding—!

The chain had been unknowingly sawed through, and as this moment of breakthrough arrived, Mai Rada couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with emotion.

He had been through so much.

From a high-ranking cadre of the Soth Divine Tribe, reduced to a mere mortal without power, struggling until now… It was only at this point that he understood the preciousness of power.

“Hello.”

However, Mai Rada didn’t have the chance to be moved by his own situation, as suddenly, a voice came from behind, startling the perpetually frightened Mai Rada.

“It’s you!”

The figure standing at the window of the dim room was none other than Teacher Prin, who had brought him to Father Strala here—the very one who had trapped him in this predicament with his harmless-looking white shirt.

“I’m here to check on you.” Teacher Prin smiled slightly and said, “I’m about to leave, and you seem to be doing alright now, that’s good.”

“You’re leaving?” Mai Rada’s anger was instantly suppressed. He furrowed his brow and asked subconsciously, “Why?”

“To see different scenery.” Teacher Prin replied quite casually, “Life is an unceasing journey, I quite enjoy the sights along the way.”

Mai Rada shook his head, strenuously hugging the large iron ball as he emerged from the storage room, “Let’s make a deal, before you leave, can you help me open this thing? I’d owe you a favor.”

Teacher Prin thought about it, agreed to Mai Rada’s request, and with a pinch, broke all the chains on Mai Rada.

Mai Rada was silent for a moment before asking, “Tell me a way to find you, I never owe favors lightly.”

But Teacher Prin shook his head, “I introduced you here, didn’t expect you’d suffer a bit, forget about the favor, consider it a negligible compensation. Besides… Being a mortal is really not easy.”

Mai Rada remained noncommittal.

Teacher Prin laughed and said, “Though it’s not easy, they continue to live strongly… Hmm, I’m going to say hello to Father Strala.”

Watching Teacher Prin head to the church, Mai Rada couldn’t be happier, God knows where that old priest might emerge from to give him a few more hits?

He was truly afraid of Father Strala, completely beyond comprehension, and it was a relief to see Teacher Prin go to entangle him.

Freedom.

He once again felt this breath, and inside his heart welled up with hope for the future, as if a new strength surged out, his steps became noticeably firmer.

He noticed something strange beneath his feet, and when he looked down, it was the broken chain pieces Teacher Prin had pinched—unwittingly crushed underfoot.

Of course, he couldn’t crush chain fragments—perhaps he once could, but clearly not now.

Mai Rada instinctively squatted down, reached out to grasp a segment of chain, only to see the chain start crumbling in his hands, then shatter… What’s more, where the chain touched, the grass even wilted!

“What… is this?!”

…

Teacher Prin found Father Strala in the church’s confessional room.

Finding him, Father was laying back with a magazine over his face, snoring lightly.

Teacher Prin gently tapped the door of the small black room of the confessional.

Father Strala startled awake, hurriedly tidied the magazine while wiping away drool, “Oh! Donating master’s… No, travelers lost on their way, confess your feelings of guilt and sinfulness, I am Father Strala, I can help you. Hmm, it’s you again? How come it’s not been long and you’ve returned?”

This concept of ‘not long’ felt peculiar to Teacher Prin, but he did not ponder it deeply, only smiled and said, “I’ll be leaving in a couple of days, realized I’ve never stepped into your confessional, so I figured I’d like to experience it… May I confide?”

“It costs money… Never mind, let’s consider it acquainted.” Father Strala shook his head, continued looking at the magazine but let Teacher Prin inside.

Teacher Prin didn’t mind, sat down, pondered for a while then asked, “Father, what do you think death is?”

Father casually flipped a page of the magazine and answered perfunctorily, “Poor die penniless, no girlfriends die lonely, bad luck crashes die, how on earth do rich people screw up a good hand themselves? Anyway, I can’t kill you… Alright, next question.”

But Teacher Prin smiled, suddenly asked, “Do you want to kill me?”

Father Strala paused, lifted his head abruptly, looking through the grating of the small black room’s wooden panel at Teacher Prin, staring quite seriously for a while before tentatively asking, “Are you okay in the head? Let me tell you, don’t try to frame me, I don’t have money!”

Teacher Prin smiled again, stood up, and softly said: farewell.