Chapter 161
Chapter 161
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 161
Chapter Title: For the Living God
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"How's it going over there?"
"Oh, don't even ask. That little thing had some real strength to it."
Wiping sweat as if she'd been completely drained, a woman waved her hand dismissively and plopped down on the stairs.
At the sight, the man—who'd been roughly stroking his beard, which had grown quite bushy just a few days after shaving—pulled a bundle of wax-coated cloth from his bosom, unwrapped it, and offered her a thick raw cigar.
"No way. Isn't this the tobacco the Captain saves for himself?"
"You got it. I'm only giving it to you because it's you. If it were any other squad member, no chance."
Not the kind dried crisp enough to fray at the edges, but raw tobacco pickled in candle wax and slow-dried in the shade, still damp with moisture.
Amazed by the Captain's generosity in bestowing such a precious item, the woman took one, held it under her nose, and sniffed deeply.
"Whoa, great aroma. You know, even beastkin with wrecked senses can distinguish the smell of blood and tobacco."
"Bullshit. If their nose is shot, how could they?"
"No, really. They can't pick up sweet or salty well, but they sniff out blood and tobacco like nobody's business."
Chuckling, the woman drew a small dagger from her bosom and trimmed one end of the raw cigar.
Seeing the faint bloodstain on the dagger, the man clicked his tongue and spoke.
"You know if you don't clean it properly, it'll rust and get all sticky later, right?"
"Come on, Captain. You think I don't know that? I've been at this for... what, years now? That's why I splurged on a dagger enchanted to stay sharp forever."
Grinning as if it were a trade secret, she pursed her lips to light the cigar, but the man shook his head.
"It's all about sincerity and intent. After the ritual, wiping the blood off carefully and keeping the blade clean—that's part of your mindset."
"These days' kids hate that stuff, Captain."
As if he'd seen her stubborn retorts plenty over the years, he didn't scold further and parted his long robe.
The lining bore an emblem: what looked like two-pronged horns, crossed swords stabbing downward over them, and a diamond-shaped pattern nestled between the crossed sword hilts.
He peeled back a small pocket over the emblem, pulled out a magical lighter, lit the end of the cigar in her mouth, then lit his own—which he'd trimmed the front off last time—and continued.
"So, how many today?"
"Who knows. Around a dozen? We've pretty much drained this village dry."
"Figured as much, so I scouted the next one. It's easier to find targets there, though, so we might wrap it up in a day."
Not the remnants after the ritual, but doing it mid-process—if someone showed up, it'd be a hassle. At his words, the woman snickered.
"Shame. Staying put and performing the ritual properly is the sweet gig. Supposedly more effective, too."
"Normally, yeah. How desperately they seek it out, or how much care they put into the offering—that all goes on the scale."
But when you couldn't squeeze every last drop from individuals, you had to make up with volume.
"Then the next village—no full altar, just quick rites and torch it right away?"
"Yep. Hack a few in front of parents or kids, burn 'em up. Easiest way to draw out pain and fear."
Not as potent as fanaticism or blind faith, but intense emotions all the same—guide them right, and they'd reach their god easily.
Plus, their god seemed pleased with killing off the unwanted, for whatever reason. All the better.
"Speaking of, the others are planning a mass kill with that plague, right? We won't fall behind?"
"Pretty clever. And spreading rumors in plague-hit areas to spark a beastkin-human war? Smart."
"Huge haul for them. Still, our goal's all for Him in the end, so good for them if it works."
"Finish your smoke, then assemble."
The man, puffing the half-smoked raw cigar from before, stood and brushed himself off. The woman bowed deeply.
"Got it. I'll double-check the others drew the Church emblem properly, then head out."
"All for our Living God."
"For the Living God."
* * *
"Been a while since the drug wore off. So, any reactions?"
[To be frank, it's impressive enough that I'd ask the rank of your Foresight Eye, young master.]
I smirked at Alkaido's words and replied.
"What, think low recoil means low rank? Should I spill more?"
[I'd love to. We're supplying plague cure at rock-bottom prices, boosting our rep with commoners and temples alike.]
Yeah, that tracks. The plague had been simmering for ages.
Even in Labyrinth City, that day my leg got severed, hadn't all the high priests been dispatched?
Lots dying along the border. Especially near water sources.
Luna had told me that.
'Come to think of it, that was back when Luna still had the Timid trait.'
I chuckled, dredging up the memory. Our Luna's bold as brass now.
"Fair enough. If I'd hoarded food in Chabid or jacked up medicine prices like a villain, I'd have gold matching my infamy."
[Plague victims would've scraped every coin for it.]
"No need to gouge for pocket change. Infamy's piled high already."
[Right now, it's pre-inner continent spread—mostly commoners afflicted. Leave it longer, nobles wouldn't escape.]
True. And this was just wave one; add wave two later, and before war even hit, black smoke would've choked the skies everywhere.
Cremations nonstop.
Then the Malefic Church's rumors pinning it on beastkin—humans hating beastkin.
Beastkin hating humans for slave hunts, persecution, livestock slaughters, and with a Great Chieftain uniting tribes, war inevitable.
Chabid beastkin-humans spark it, elves and merfolk join, continent burns.
'Malefic Church goes public, expands, monsters hit both sides—total chaos.'
"Anyway, temple rep's up. Have 'em stock holy water, divine contracts, bit by bit."
[Consider it done. But why holy water?]
"Who knows. Best if we never need it."
Unlike my party—who'd look away if I even hinted at my Foresight—I let out a scheming chuckle, buoyed by Alkaido's faith.
"Might need buckets someday."
[Understood. Time to build a new warehouse.]
"Alright, log off."
I ended the Siren call, tapping the desk.
Excluding the 100% Innocent Malefic Church trigger, five random main event streams: beastkin war, plague, monster waves, imperial throne civil war, undead stirring.
My grinding paid off—plague's climax, the mass slaughter? Nixed.
Beastkin war: controlling via Hula for now.
Throne war: too massive to stop, so propping Shahad for some control.
Monster waves: Chabid's dragon-led one sealed in the canyon after pulling Lepid our way. Safe-ish.
Gavioren border wave? Reinhardt's full rescue butterflies it into them trapped like rats behind walls.
'Not bad at all.'
Mid-to-late Doppelganger Potion headache? Zero's with me now—solved.
'Worth the hustle.'
Smug, I grabbed a pen to log events.
'Other disruptions? Fire Essence, Sea Pearl, Storm Orb—already divvied. Snag others first?'
Kaiman took Fire Essence, I got Sea Pearl.
Storm Orb: Kaiman first, Malefic Church steals later.
Others offhand: Verdant Ring, Heavy Deep Star, Frostpeak Tear?
But treasures have owners.
Sea Pearl powered airships; Storm Orb merfolk relic.
The rest? Malefic Church yoinks from owners.
All potent essence mana clumps—offerings for their Living God.
'So, steal more if I can.'
Outsiders might gripe: knew Storm Orb went to them—why leave it? Dumb.
Had to for our healer.
They resonate with owners. Snatch mid-way, even subspace-stashed, merfolk healer'd sense it.
Needed it as bait to lure her out.
Plus, Kaiman holding then losing it prevents Church alliance...
Fire Essence backlash has him reeling—no grudge without Orb loss, he might bite their offer.
I sketched a crude mermaid, circled it repeatedly.
Healer's human hate stems from Kaiman's theft plus incidents—block those, less twisted.
"Still before forced wedding drag, right?"
No Storm Orb blocking island storms—anyone can enter now.
First coax, then threaten. Then kidnap.
So now: late coax or early threats.
Too late or early, no good.
Why I dragged on ship/crew while chasing healer recruit: timing.
Royal merfolk won't ditch kin/sea easy—wait for ripe moment.
'Plus, Church interference.'
I flipped guild-bought docs.
Sloppy sketch, faded spots, but attached emblem.
This sacrifice? Church again.
Crossed horn-prongs stabbed by swords, diamond dot between.
"While Zero gathers intel, Kane and I dig into this."
Tapping the emblem, I smiled faintly.
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