Chapter 91: Do You Have Traces of Werewolves Here
Returning once again to Daniels Village, George felt somewhat conflicted.
The village gates were tightly shut, looking even more like a fortified stronghold than when George had left.
It was even more sealed off.
The height of the wooden walls had been significantly increased; even for agile werewolves, climbing them would be far more difficult.
The guards atop the watchtower behind the gate exchanged looks.
They had seen George.
If it had been before, upon seeing George, they would have greeted him with a smile.
But now...
Though they were guards of the village, in reality, they were maintained by the Daniels Family.
"We are Temple Warriors of the Church of the Sanctuary. We are currently tracking traces of werewolves, and we have discovered that these traces lead into your village," Marl shouted loudly.
"Please open the gate quickly. If night falls, these werewolves may attack the villagers!"
Following Marl's words, two or three dozen people began climbing up the wooden wall, each holding long spears, wearing finely crafted leather armor, breastplates across their chests, and iron bracers on their hands.
This equipment looked far superior to that of the Temple Warriors.
And these were just the ones guarding the main gate.
When Yara was rebuilding the new village, she did not open two gates as before.
Although having only one gate could lead to it being sealed off during an attack, it allowed for a more concentrated defense.
It was more suitable for a village with fewer people.
"Are you going to endanger the villagers by stopping us?" Though outnumbered, Marl still shouted loudly.
"Werewolves can transform humans into werewolves. If a villager gets bitten, then the entire village might be infected and turned into werewolves."
"Including all of you!"
The news of werewolves had now spread completely, but these guards had never actually encountered one.
Moreover, due to the influence of the Lucid Dream, their first reaction to Marl’s words wasn’t doubt, but a hint of fear. Still, compared to the unseen werewolves, they feared their master more.
So, for a moment, a standoff ensued.
Marl’s face showed anger, but deep in his eyes, a hint of ecstatic joy was hidden.
"Knight George! We can't wait any longer. Once it gets dark, it'll be too late," Marl said to George.
George was a bit confused, unsure of Marl’s intention.
"So I say, to save the villagers, we must go in immediately," Marl said forcefully.
"Therefore, break down this gate." A burning fervor ignited in his eyes.
George was momentarily stunned.
He understood Marl’s meaning.
But he was unwilling to break down the wooden gate.
Of course, he knew there were no clues about werewolves inside — it was a lie.
Yet he thought of Corleon’s instructions, telling him to obey Marl.
"Only this way can we save the believers under threat," Marl shouted.
Even if it was directed at George, it was also spoken for the guards within the village.
George remained silent. He unfastened the rack he carried on his back.
This had been given to him by Corleon.
"O Lord, if this action is righteous, then please grant me strength," he prayed softly.
At the Grand Cathedral, kneeling beneath the Lord’s Throne, Corleon sensed that familiar touch.
He closed his eyes, descending upon the cross that George carried.
Just as in his revelation, the gate was tightly shut, refusing them entry.
A smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
Corleon enlightened and blessed the cross, making it incomparably sturdy.
Corleon bestowed a Blessing upon George, granting him strength, just as he had prayed for.
Opening his eyes, he felt a bit of fatigue.
Although this remote Blessing had to be more delicate, it was still much easier than granting Blessings to hundreds of people at once before.
George felt warmth — it was the Lord’s approval for the prayer he had offered.
He opened his eyes, now no longer confused, and lifted the cross that emitted a faint glimmer, barely visible in daylight.
Marl grinned widely.
Back at the Monastery, Ando had constantly boasted about George’s stories, claiming how incredibly powerful George was — even stronger than knights.
Now, Marl could finally witness the strength of the George whom Ando idolized.
George began to run, accelerating, then, holding the lower part of the cross, slammed it fiercely against the gate under the alarmed eyes of those in the watchtower.
A loud "boom" resounded, shaking the entire wooden wall.
"Quick, block it!" someone finally reacted, shouting loudly.
In a hurry, they crowded behind the wooden wall, barricading the gate.
At the same time, someone dashed toward the inner village.
"Second strike," George shouted, and then smashed the cross against the gate for the second time.
Even from outside, Marl could hear a few screams from behind the gate.
"Final one." George grabbed the cross, took a deep breath, his eyes seemingly glowing with brilliant golden light, and then, with fierce force, slammed it into the gate.
With a crack, the seam between the wooden doors split open.
The horizontal timber bar shattered, and the guards blocking the gate were flung aside by the impact, collapsing to the ground.
"Temple Warriors, charge in and seize that werewolf!" Marl shouted with a fanatical gleam in his eyes, leading the charge.
The remaining three hesitated for a moment, then followed.
"Ha, hoo." George stood still, catching his breath, placing the cross on the ground.
The guards lying on the ground stared at George in terror.
With their physical strength, a heavy blow like that shouldn't have incapacitated them.
Yet they simply sat dazed, watching Marl lead his men charging in, not daring to stop him.
After Marl entered the village, George steadied his breathing.
He hesitated but did not follow.
Instead, he carried the cross on his back and walked toward the site of the former small church.
Once inside the village, Marl sprinted forward, shouting all the way.
"We are Temple Warriors led by Monk George. A werewolf has entered the village — everyone, don’t hide in your homes, that will only let the werewolf conceal itself!"
"Come out and follow me, follow Monk George. He and the Temple Warriors will protect us!"
His voice was nearly a roar.
The people here didn’t know George had become a Temple Warrior.
They knew him as Monk George.
And these words reached those hiding indoors — especially those working for the Church.
Lately, people from their group had been dying off one by one.
They could guess someone wanted them gone.
But with Monk George absent, to whom could they pray for help?
They could only curl up in their homes, waiting for death.
Even the paths of escape had been locked.
They were once deemed worthless. Even if they did no labor, the village no longer needed their strength.
Every day they prayed for the Lord, who had once delivered the Gospel, to save them.
And now, it seemed the Lord had heard their prayers and sent Monk George back.
So, they rushed out from their homes, crawling on their knees as they followed the voice.
Then came the villagers who had once received George’s help and were close to the Church believers.
They too were stirred by the believers and followed.
This village had been turned into a cage by the Daniels Family.
Those who had once known the freedom to come and go — how could they endure such a prison?
It was only that no one had rallied them before.
But now, with Monk George shouting hoarsely, he had become the reason they gathered as one.