Chapter 300

When you question the abyss, the abyss chooses to pout at you…

【"Aww~ Don't be so stingy! You don't need faith power anyway—just let me have a little bit~"】

Nie Nasha's voice was cloyingly sweet, pushing her pouting power to its limit, trying to bewitch Herbert.

I'm easy to feed—just a tiny bit!

Really now~

Herbert's face twitched slightly at that saccharine, squeaky voice that made him want insulin, and sighed, "Wait, weren't we just arguing?"

Hey, pay attention—we're fighting here!

Stop grinning like that!

How come you're sneaking eats of my offerings?

Who told you to stop right now?

No.

Keep fighting!

【"Arguing? When?"】

Nie Nasha asked, her soul radiating intense confusion.

Did we even argue?

Did we?

I don't remember anything!

"Hm?"

Had Herbert not been certain he hadn't yet slipped into senile forgetfulness, he might have doubted his own sanity.

"Oh, so that's how you're playing it? Fine, fine."

Alright, you've got some flexibility.

Since Nie Nasha had already raised the white flag, Herbert didn't press further, instead turning to another matter he cared about.

"So this is faith power? It doesn't need to come from worshippers?"

Herbert looked at the expressions of the kneeling crowd.

Fear, awe, concern—but not worship… oh, wait, there were a few after all.

Fa'ao radiated the strongest sense of worship, almost overflowing.

So he's the source of this faith power?

【"Hehe, I knew you were the best~"】

Having gotten what she wanted, Nie Nasha's voice was no longer as cloying, but her tongue remained sweet.

【"Of course it is."】

【"Faith power is best obtained from worshippers—purest and most stable."】

【"But if you hold certain divine offices or domains, loyalty from worshippers isn't necessary, nor must it be clearly directed."】

【"Like the Death domain—as long as death exists in this world, the Death God's power will never run dry."】

As long as mortals still fear and revere death, He will never lack faith power—though that 【Awaiting the End】 neither needs nor cares for it.

"I see." Herbert nodded thoughtfully.

Gods of the Faith Era absolutely relied on mortal faith to sustain their power, but older Primordial Gods didn't necessarily.

Wait—that means gods can force mortals to love them!

"... No, didn't I already know this?"

Herbert smirked, realizing he'd personally experienced it before.

Right, nothing unusual about it.

Who hasn't been harassed by a god?

After Herbert finished thinking, Nie Nasha smiled and asked: 【"By the way, what do you think faith power is?"】

"Hmm… Soul? Belief? No, willpower?"

Herbert wasn't a god, and had never delved into divine matters—he could only guess vaguely.

The Harmonious Goddess didn't look down on the ignorance of mortals; she chuckled softly: 【"Not entirely wrong, but close enough~ It's a fusion of several forces."】

Perhaps it wasn't the right time, so Nie Nasha didn't press further on the topic, leaving it at that.

Then, with a sigh, she mused: 【"Though mortals don't realize it, their power far exceeds their imagination."】

【"Before the Faith Era, no one imagined their strength could sway the gods."】

Hearing her words, Herbert's eyes flickered slightly.

The might of mortals?

Mortal bodies, equal to gods?

The gods considered it an absurd impossibility.

But as one who had truly witnessed the miracles created by mortals, Herbert believed more firmly than anyone else in their power.

"..."

He fell silent for a moment, saying nothing—some things cannot be convinced by words alone.

Do it, and they will understand naturally.

But now, it was still far too early.

Herbert changed the subject: "Do you need it?"

【"Hm?"】

"Do you still need more faith power to recover?"

Nie Nasha blinked in surprise, but didn't pretend with Herbert, saying plainly: 【"If there is, it's certainly best."】

"Good, I understand."

Herbert nodded, whispering softly in his heart: "Rest easy. Once Ellda grows further, the next step is to establish your church."

This was something the two had already discussed; Herbert bringing it up now was clearly to affirm his stance.

Nie Nasha paused, then laughed: 【"Oh? Hehe, then I'm counting on you~"】

"Rest easy."

After witnessing once again up close the strength of the demon girls, Herbert felt again his own weakness.

That "licensed Berserker" might not be strong—he could handle it himself.

But that guy, under Elisa's hands, didn't even survive a single strike, didn't make a sound, like a mute tough guy, turning instantly into a puddle of pus and blood.

This somewhat shocked Herbert, strengthening his resolve to cling tightly to Nie Nasha's leg.

Though Elisa wasn't hard to win over, her affection progress had been steadily advancing.

But to forge steel, one must be strong oneself—his power must rise.

Herbert didn't want to turn into a puddle of pus and blood out of nowhere when emotions ran high!

"Huh, I hope this journey into the Dark Region gives me some help."

He had conversed with Nie Nasha in his mind for a long while, yet only seconds had passed in the outside world—he still maintained his divine-descending posture.

But Herbert's transcendent state didn't last long.

"... Your Grace."

Varo scratched his bald head and grinned awkwardly at Herbert: "Hehe, you've come."

Herbert's earlier actions had been loud—the plan must have changed.

With things now exposed, there was no need for the other cultivators to continue pretending.

Crack! Crack!

Amid the confused gazes of the other slaves, they snapped the bars of their cages and walked out voluntarily.

"Your Grace."

"Your Grace, we..."

They walked forward, heads bowed, faces filled with shame and resentment.

"We... failed."

Yes, they had failed.

They hadn't even officially entered the Dark Region, yet their identities had already been exposed.

Too much of a failure.

One cultivator, unwilling to accept it, clenched his teeth, trying to defend them: "Our disguise was good—it was Cyril who..."

He wanted to explain the earlier accident, but Lord Fa Ao beside him grabbed his arm and shook his head gently.

"Don't say it."

"Uh... yes."

Lord Fa Ao stepped forward before the group and knelt before Herbert.

He bowed his head deeply, whispering with deep shame: "Your Grace, we have disappointed your expectations—we failed to conceal our identities."

The others realized this too, and knelt before Herbert as well.

Yes, shifting blame was meaningless now.

No matter the reason, the mission had failed—that was all there was to say.

Herbert silently scanned them, taking in every expression, and nodded.

"I understand."

He didn't blame them for their failure, didn't even ask for details—only said softly: "As long as you're safe."

"Though the mission is important, your safety has always been more important."

"You adapted on the spot—that's good."

After offering a few quiet words of encouragement, Herbert lightly patted Lord Fa Ao's shoulder and asked casually: "By the way, where's Cyril?"

Herbert had changed his plan and acted because of Cyril's "signal," but when he returned, the "smash-the-cup-as-signal" protagonist was gone.

You started the raid, the raid's over—where the hell are you?

"Cyril... uh..."

At the mention of him, Lord Fa Ao's expression grew complicated, his lip twitching, unable to find words.

It was Varo beside him who took over, equally awkwardly saying: "Your Grace, Cyril... he seems to have charged into the Dark Region alone."

After going berserk, Cyril first smashed open every slave cage, then charged straight toward the trade road leading into the Dark Region without looking back.

"Oh, huh?"

Herbert blinked, shaking his head with amusement: "He's in a hurry, isn't he?"

No need to guess—it was surely youthful pride, trying to redeem himself by accomplishing a great feat after causing disaster.

One could understand his motive, but as a teammate, you still had to curse.

Still, this time Herbert didn't need to deliver his sharp judgment—the others had their own verdicts.

Herbert nodded, saying coolly: "The Dark Region is dangerous, and he's alone—we must depart immediately, or he'll be in danger."

"As for disguise... it's already exposed, no big deal—we can re-disguise once inside."

Seeing Herbert never once blamed them, the cultivators finally relaxed, each silently exhaling in relief.

But just as they thought everything was settled, Herbert turned to the other side and asked softly:

"And what about them?"

Herbert looked at the anxious slaves around him and asked the monks.

The slaves, having been repeatedly stunned by the displays of power, were utterly confused and now knelt motionless on the ground, too afraid to rise, fearing they might be misunderstood.

"What do you think should be done with them?"

"I've dealt with all the slave traders—but how should these unfortunate, innocent souls be resettled?"

The monks fell silent.

They realized the problem.

To catch up with Cyril, they must depart immediately, leaving no time to settle these hundreds of people, forcing them to fend for themselves in this dangerous forest.

Conversely, the same applied.

The situation was not without a solution—but someone had to voluntarily stay behind.

And once they stayed, they could no longer follow the group, losing this precious chance for cultivation entirely.

For a moment, no one spoke up.

"…"

This opportunity was rare; no one wanted to give it up willingly.

Mortals have self-interest—it is only natural, even among monks who cultivate themselves.

Herbert did not urge them, nor did he look at any one of them, offering no hint or encouragement.

He did not need to arrange it, nor should he decide for them.

This choice had to be theirs alone.

"... Huh."

After a moment of silence, Faou exhaled the heavy air from his chest, slowly rising and giving Herbert a slight nod.

His gaze was calm, showing no trace of reluctance, and he said respectfully: "My lord, let me stay. I will see to their proper resettlement."

Herbert finally turned back, unsurprised, looking at the Holy Knight and giving a quiet nod, murmuring his name.

"Faou."

He was a rare presence, even among Holy Knights.

Loyalty, courage, fearlessness, humility—those rare virtues shone through him completely.

Faou too felt reluctance and regret at giving up power, but in the end, he chose compassion.

To show compassion to these pitiful victims of abduction, to lead them home.

"Very well. These people are yours."

Herbert did not hinder Faou because he favored him—he respected Faou's choice.

"Then the rest of you—"

"My lord, wait—let us stay too," Varo interrupted Herbert, rising to his feet.

With him rose "The Silent" Zal and the two twin nuns.

"You—"

Faou spun around, stammering: "You… you don't have to do this. I can manage alone…"

"Hah! Who said it's for you?"

The towering Wu Seng chuckled, slinging an arm around the silent ascetic and winking at Faou: "Of course not—how could we let you hog all the glory?"

"Besides, we're a team. We can't afford to lose you."

With that, the four bowed deeply to Herbert, their actions making their stance clear.

As a team, they would stand with Faou, through thick and thin.

Faou, after pressing his lips tightly together, ceased his protests and bowed with them.

Herbert looked at the five-man team and couldn't help shaking his head with a smile.

"You guys… heh… ha!"

Seriously.

Are you all acting out some idol drama?

This really is… touching.

Herbert nodded thoughtfully and smiled: "You've all made your decision? No regrets?"

"Yes. No regrets."

Faou rose, smiling, his eyes free of hesitation, whispering:

"If I cannot protect the weak, then I never should have chosen to become a Holy Knight."

"He's right. We feel the same," the other four nodded calmly.

Herbert's gaze swept over their faces, and he nodded in satisfaction, softly saying: "Good. Remember this choice you've made."

Some other monks had still wished to stay, but they were too late; since enough had volunteered, they remained silent.

Herbert did not judge others' choices—everyone has the right to choose selfishness.

But to choose selflessness—that is truly worthy of admiration.

"By the way, take this."

Herbert slipped a ring from his finger and gently tossed it to Faou.

???

Faou had not been paying attention—but when he saw what he had caught, he snapped fully awake, eyes wide in shock.

Huh?

A RING!!?

"My… my lord, this is!!?"

At this moment, the knight, who had always been free of guilt, fell into panic.

What do you mean by that?

My lord Herbert!!?

"This—I—I can't accept it!"

(End of Chapter)