Chapter 85: Faith Frenzy
Blood dyed the ground outside the wooden wall red, the scent of blood spreading, and George and the Temple Warriors beneath the cross also heard Darren's words.
There was anger in the eyes of the Temple Warriors, not because of what Darren said.
Originating from various noble families, they vaguely knew how those families conducted their affairs.
So after coming to believe in the Lord, they knew it was wrong, but also knew that this was the standard practice of those families.
They were not overly reactive.
Their anger stemmed from the fact that such things had happened just beyond a single wall, yet they had not discovered it, had not stopped it.
They looked at George.
George was even angrier than they were.
He was of commoner birth, and from the very lowest tier of commoners.
He had never truly understood the methods by which those gentry families operated.
The person he had interacted with the most was Yara of the Daniels Family.
And he held some goodwill toward Yara — in Daniels Village, Yara had truly helped him a lot.
So he had not realized just how cruel the gentry families could be.
He was angry, and he was heartbroken and filled with guilt.
He had heard the screams from inside the manor — only faint and fleeting.
And at that time, he had been too hungry; he thought he had imagined it.
He stood up, wanting to smash open the gates of the manor, to purify the evil inside.
Yet as he stood, he felt a gaze upon him.
He turned his head and saw the man who had spoken to him.
The man was holding a banner, no longer waving it, just letting it flutter in the wind.
As their eyes met, it was as though the man reminded George of the words spoken that day.
『We will take care of everything. You need not do anything. It's best if you do nothing.』
George forced himself to calm down and looked toward the battlefield.
Beneath the wooden wall, the attacks of the commoners appeared so powerless, and Darren’s laughter was so jarring.
Signaling to the Temple Warriors not to attack the manor,
George still chose to trust that man.
He merely took out the Holy Scriptures, stood up, and stood beneath the cross, loudly reciting amidst the battlefield.
The Temple Warriors followed him in chanting.
And as they recited, the faint glow on the cross seemed to brighten, visible even in the daytime.
It was as if with the brightening glow, the voice of the scriptures they chanted together spread, echoing in the ears of those frenzied people.
The banner bearer smiled.
Although the Temple Church people suddenly chanting the scriptures was not part of his plan, he knew that this time, it had worked — he waved his hand, and several people suddenly rushed out from behind him, each carrying a jar in their arms, sprinting toward the wooden wall outside the manor.
“What’s that?” Darren naturally noticed people still able to run so swiftly and was a little puzzled.
But when the jar was fiercely smashed against the wooden wall, and the black liquid stuck to it, his face changed drastically.
Whoosh — flames ignited, the immense heat forcing the strong men atop the wooden wall to retreat.
“Look! That is the flame the Lord sent down to purify evil!”
“Look! Those sinners are afraid. They’re retreating. They fear this purifying flame.”
“Everyone! We must cross through this purifying flame — it will not harm those of us who yearn for goodness!”
“This flame will help us cleanse the wickedness, usher in the Lord’s gospel, and together build a Heavenly Kingdom on earth!”
“There will be no more oppression, no more slavery, no more hunger or sickness!”
The banner bearer shouted these words, a flicker of sorrow flashing in his eyes, but in the end, he hardened his resolve.
And with his declaration, those who had instinctively retreated due to the fire once again charged at the manor like madmen.
They paid no mind to the scorching of the flames, only reaching upward, trying to climb over that wooden wall, to purify the evil within and welcome the Heavenly Kingdom on earth.
George and the Temple Warriors closed their eyes and recited the scriptures loudly.
The faint glow behind them on the cross flickered, as if watching this war to purify evil.
Darren was dead.
He had been torn to pieces.
Even at the moment of death, Darren did not beg for mercy; he continued shouting angrily and cursing.
Of course, George didn’t care.
He gnawed on flatbread and looked at the man across from him.
“What should I call you?” George asked.
“Zecair.” The man replied, the blood-red cross banner planted behind him.
“So, what do you plan to do next?” George looked at him.
A rebellion had broken out in the territory — whether or not it was Darren’s doing, the lord’s army would slaughter all the rebellious commoners.
This was something even George knew.
As for whether starving these people was Darren’s intention, neither the lord nor the family behind Darren would care.
“Right now, the lord is not in the territory. The dark creatures of the Northwind Mountains are invading here. Before they fully grasp the situation, the knights left behind will not send extra forces to wipe us out,” Zecair said.
“But that’s only a matter of time.”
“Yes, just a matter of time, but enough for us to cross the marquis’s territory and head for the Principality of Corlay.” A delighted smile appeared on Zecair’s face.
“That place is currently under attack by fishmen and dark creatures, a time of chaos. We can seize a place there where we can survive.”
“But can you pass through the marquis’s domain? And there are still werewolves here,” George asked.
“Staying here means death too, doesn’t it?” There was no worry visible on Zecair’s face.
“Rather than be exploited to death by those gentry families here, it’s better to risk it all and build the Lord’s Heavenly Kingdom on earth.”
“That’s very difficult.”
“But someone has to do it. The countless oppressed commoners shouldn’t have to live in such misery.”
“…” George fell silent, then said, “What can I do to help you?”
“If possible, I’d like to ask you for a copy of the Holy Scriptures,” Zecair said.
“It’s because of the Lord’s teachings that we’ve united together.”
“But I am a sinner. I dare not go to the church to confess to the Lord. I only wish to beg for a Holy Scripture, so that we can feel the Lord’s mercy and compassion on the road ahead.”
“You can read?” George handed over his Holy Scriptures without hesitation.
He did not ask what the sin was, and Zecair did not explain — he simply took the scriptures devoutly with both hands.
“There will always be people who sympathize with the suffering commoners,” Zecair said.
“Do you need me to escort you out of here?” George asked.
“No need. I’ve made arrangements with the others. Once we succeed, we must not linger. We must go to a place where we can build the Heavenly Kingdom on earth,” Zecair shook his head.
George did not ask who the others were — he could more or less guess.
“Then, may the Lord protect you,” George said at last.
“Thank you for your compassion.” Zecair lowered his head. “When we build the Heavenly Kingdom on earth, we hope to welcome the true teachings of the Lord.”
Zecair left with the more than one hundred survivors.
Most of them were commoners who had stormed the manor, along with some women rescued from inside.
George looked ahead, at the figure carrying the blood-red cross banner.
George didn’t know if he would ever see that man again.
But he thought, perhaps he would.
After all, when those people climbed into the manor through the flames, they only suffered minor burns, and none of them truly died in the fire.