Chapter 802: The Burned Parasites and the Confessing Weier

After hearing Jier's account, Priest Bata'er sighed and raised a hand to rub his furrowed brow: "My troubled homeland... why must the people on this land suffer so?"

Seeing the Priest's low spirits, Jier patted his companion on the shoulder, wanting to offer some comfort.

"Careful! Please, don't let this parasite touch my body! Their root systems should be able to drill directly into a human body—not even a tiny bit!"

Jier looked at the three docile Human Face Root Parasites in the bag and shrugged: "They look quite quiet. When I used my Dagger to cut one open earlier, that was the only time it wiggled its roots and tried to resist."

Priest Bata'er looked helpless and tapped Jier's Full-body Metal Armor: "Others don't have solid defenses like yours; those roots capable of parasitizing human bodies can't do anything against metal. Enough, I beg you, Warrior Jier, throw these things into the fire and burn them immediately! They are extremely dangerous!"

Jier shrugged. Although he felt that these Human Face Root Parasites capable of parasitizing humans might have some other use, since his companion the Priest had said so, he didn't want these strange things to cause extra casualties or trouble among the Refugee Team.

Just then, the wood needed for the overnight campfire, which burned all night at the infirmary tent, was delivered. Jier had the people building the fire speed up, and once the campfire was roaring, he threw the three parasites—still in the bag, along with the small leather pouch—straight into the flames.

"Squeak—screech, screech..."

As soon as the three things touched the fire, they immediately let out shrill cries, and the countless plant roots behind their faces, stained with dried flesh, began to thrash violently.

They gained limited mobility because of this, but just as they were about to use their roots to crawl out of the fire, Jier kicked them back into the flames.

After repeating this a few times, the parasites, which the Priest had described as extremely dangerous, turned into clumps of scorching charcoal and burned to death in the fire.

Purified by the flames, then.

"Let's talk about that evil cult, the 'Flesh Demon'. It's not impossible that we'll be dealing with them tomorrow. Hmm, the kind where blades draw blood."

Jier crossed his arms, stood with his legs apart, and said to the Priest who was squatting on the ground.

Priest Bata'er squatted by the fire, confirmed that the three things in the fire were 'neutralized', then let out a sigh of relief, turned his head, and said to Jier: "Tell me first how you got these things. I'm a bit worried."

Thus, Jier told the Priest what had happened with the Lumberjacks earlier, as well as the intelligence he had interrogated from the parasitized freak before it died.

"But I can't guarantee the truthfulness of what I got out of him, you have to understand."

Jier spread his hands, adding a layer of insurance to his news.

The Priest nodded and turned to tell Jier what he knew.

It turned out that the matter of the so-called evil cult 'Flesh Demon' happened over a hundred years ago. Deep in a mountain forest within the Empire that was not under the Empire's actual administration, there was a giant tree-shaped Magic Beast that was half-plant and half-flesh, deified by the local alien races. It ruled over a very small so-called 'Alien Kingdom'. Because this so-called 'Kingdom' that parasitized and enslaved alien lives was relatively close to the special religious holy site clusters of various Human churches in the southwest of the Empire, the task of eradicating this deified Magic Beast was placed by the official Empire on the nearby human churches and gods.

There is no need to go into the details of the process; the entire Alien Kingdom in the remote mountain forest was wiped out, but the deified Magic Beast that parasitized and enslaved the entire Alien Kingdom was never eradicated.

Its tenacious survival ability and strange, dangerous parasitic ability were one aspect, but the fact that the church armies formed by the various churches were two-faced and lacked unity was naturally an important reason why it was able to escape joint annihilation.

"So?" Jier asked.

The Priest warmed himself by the fire, stretched, and said: "So, after that incident, that powerful deified Magic Beast publicly announced that it would always destroy and attack humans. Of course, it wouldn't confront them head-on, and it wouldn't be a match for the various churches. Thus, it organized an evil cult that utilized its parasitic abilities—the 'Flesh Demon'—which specialized in secretly developing in the corners of human society and causing trouble everywhere."

Jier nodded: "So, this is the trouble we are about to face?"

"No."

Priest Bata'er said firmly.

"No?" Jier was a bit confused: "This church branch, whose core is the 'Flesh Demon' evil cult, is led by a so-called Prophet, calling themselves 'Flesh Pain-Givers', entrenched on the Shanglu ahead of us, occupying a village along the road, with a total of no fewer than thirty people, or even more. And on top of that, they've put on the skin of a Bandit organization; heh, in the circles of Bandits, they call themselves the 'Hanging Ghost'."

Jier shook his head at this: "So, what exactly do you mean by that 'no'?"

Priest Bata'er confidently took out the Hushin Statue of the God he had been using, carefully placed it on the empty ground nearby, knelt before the Statue of the God to offer a Prayer, and said: "When I was studying at the diocesan church in Borisfa City, the Vice Dean who taught us knowledge clearly told our batch of Novice Priests that when encountering such things, one must first report it to our great God of Agriculture. Then, if possible, notify other nearby human churches."

"Jier, you just said they put on more than one layer of skin; why do they do that? Isn't it troublesome? The reason is simple: they cannot let others see through what they really are. Once their essence is seen through, this tiny evil cult branch of only thirty-some people would immediately face a powerful strike from the various churches."

Jier slapped his forehead, making a 'bang' sound of metal colliding: "So that's it! Are you going to notify the God of Agriculture now?"

"Yes. Please wait a moment."

After saying this, Priest Bata'er closed his eyes and whispered something to the Hushin Statue of the God, which was emitting a faint green light.

Not long after, a white light descended diagonally from the dark sky in the distance, landing directly on the small Hushin Statue of the God on the ground. After this white light landed on the statue, it split into two, projecting toward Priest Bata'er and Jier.

Jier was just about to dodge, but seeing Priest Bata'er motionless, he didn't dodge either, letting the white light enter his body.

Immediately, Jier heard two responses from the great God of Agriculture: "I have already known. Carry out the mission, you must avoid this danger. Before the end of the month, the hidden danger of the Flesh Demon in this place will definitely be eliminated."

Jier heard the words of the God of Agriculture and had no reaction. These two sentences sounded indistinguishable as to whether they were male or female, old or young; listening carefully, it was as if one person had spoken, yet also as if millions had spoken.

Priest Bata'er, however, was exceptionally excited; he touched his head deeply to the ground, and excited tears flowed out.

For a Priest of the church, being able to listen to the direct words of a god is a tremendous gift.

The white light descending from the sky was only this one beam. Priest Bata'er wanted to ask the God of Agriculture more about the predicament of the Borisfa City diocesan church, but the God of Agriculture gave no further response.

No response naturally meant the same as before: let Priest Bata'er worry less about the affairs of Borisfa City, do not rashly intervene in matters there, and just do the mission he was entrusted with.

After waiting for a while, seeing Priest Bata'er put away the Hushin Statue of the God, Jier shrugged and said: "So, we shouldn't have much contact with the 'Flesh Demon' evil cult forces? Ah, it seems I'll have to make everyone walk faster tomorrow."

The Priest tidied his appearance and responded: "Yes, I hope we can avoid them, and that they won't keep pestering us. Jier, you must know that these guys are different from the previous Bandits. If you come into contact with them in battle, you might be parasitized by them. Hmm, I have to go check on the Lumberjacks."

"Do you need help? I'll go with you." Jier asked hurriedly.

The Priest waved his hand: "You have plenty to do tomorrow, go get some good rest. Everything depends on you, go rest quickly."

After saying this, the Priest walked hurriedly toward the Lumberjacks' tents. Jier scratched his nose lightly and sighed: "I also hope to get some good rest, but I have to be able to sleep well first."

Dragging his feet back to the vicinity of his tent, Jier hadn't even gone in to 'rest' when he saw several people waiting for him at the entrance.

Sitting barely on a Wooden Box was the old Merchant he knew. He seemed to have a back injury; although it wasn't serious, he was old after all. What wasn't a serious external injury for a young person was half a life for him.

Even though he had already been treated twice by Priest Bata'er, he was still quite weak at this moment.

Supporting the old Merchant's arm beside him was a boy, eleven or twelve years old, exact age unknown, who had also been rescued by Jier from the Bandit lair, and was being taken care of by the old Merchant. However, looking at it now, it was the boy who was taking care of the old Merchant.

Besides them, there was one more person standing straight on the other side of the old Merchant. Although his left arm was suspended from his shoulder with a Rope and he had suffered not-insignificant injuries to his shoulder, chest, and abdomen, this young man stood straight, his body not even swaying.

A pair of eyes were quite bright, reflecting the light of the nearby campfire. What attracted people the most was that, besides having a thin but lean physique, he also possessed a handsome face that ordinary people at this time almost never had.

Jier's face was far, far inferior compared to his.

But when out and about, it wasn't about whether someone was handsome, but what skills they had in their hands.

"Mr. Fentijia, are you looking for me?"

Jier asked as he walked over.

In fact, when he saw the Bandit Weier, who had been insane before but was now injured and clear-headed, he had already guessed the general situation.

"Good evening, Knight Jier. Sorry, as you can see, my body, like an old tree, really cannot get up to salute you. Bobo, you salute Knight Jier on my behalf."

Jier knew that the boy he had rescued was nicknamed Bobo; Jier hadn't asked for his full name, nor was he interested.

"Oh, alright, Grandpa. Knight Jier, good evening, I wish you good health."

The youth named Bobo performed a bow for merchants meeting a Noble toward Jier; his movements were standard and fluid, clearly showing he came from a good family and had received appropriate etiquette training from a young age.

Jier tapped his chest with his right hand, counting as a simple salute used when wearing armor.

With a smile on his lips, he tilted his chin up and said to the Bandit Weier, who was no longer acting insane: "So, what about this Bandit?"

Weier's face had originally been somewhat pale from blood loss, but at Jier's words, a bit of a flush returned to it; although it was from anger, if the female civilians in the team were to see it, they would likely be tossing and turning all night, their hearts fluttering.

"Please do not insult me; I am not a Bandit."

Weier said in a serious voice.

Jier shook his head: "But I remember the last time I spoke to you when your mind was clear, wasn't your identity that of a Bandit? Or are you saying that after killing my subordinate and working for the notorious Shanlang Bani, you can claim you aren't a Bandit?"

Weier gritted his teeth and insisted: "I have never killed a Merchant or civilian on the Shanglu. That Shanlang Bani was just a friend I met on the road; I was being hunted and had nowhere else to go, so I sought refuge with him. But I guarantee that while I was by Shanlang Bani's side, I was only responsible for the safety of his Bandit Group's lair and participating in skirmishes with other Bandits."

After hearing this, Jier was so angry he laughed: "So, in your days as a Bandit, you actually killed quite a few Bandits instead? Oh~ I suppose I should thank you on behalf of the administrators of the Baishi Chengqiang Guanka and Dorn Town, right?"

Sensing the sarcasm in Knight Jier's tone, Weier's body swayed, and he prepared to lift his feet and leave.

Having just walked a few steps in anger, two voices called him to a halt.

"Bandit Weier, did I tell you that you could leave? Get back here!"

This was a shout from Jier. As soon as his words fell, the seven or eight Armed Civilians responsible for guarding Knight Jier's tent nearby drew their weapons and blocked the path.

"Weier! How did you promise me before we arrived! Please come back and explain things clearly! You only have this one chance, a chance!"

This was the voice of the old Merchant Fentijia. His voice was very weak and therefore not loud, but Jier noticed that Weier, who had been ignoring the situation around him, only stopped his steps after hearing the old Merchant's words.

It seemed that his serious injuries and the hostility of those around him could not make Weier feel the slightest bit of fear, and his departing footsteps did not slow by even half. He might die under a flurry of blades, but it seemed that if he died, he died; this young man did not care about such things.

Death, it seemed, was just like his insanity—a means of escape that this young man had chosen for himself to shed the pressure that was crushing him.

The young man stood still, and amidst the glares of the surrounding blades and swords, he walked back step by step.

It was as if the surrounding blades and swords were nothing but air, possessing no threat or weight.

Jier snorted and waved his hand, signaling those around him to put away their weapons: "For a guy like this, I could cut him in two with a single sword stroke. Everyone, don't worry, go back to your rest and work."

Hearing Knight Jier say this, the onlookers, knowing the Knight's strength, all dispersed. However, since this was only a few steps from Jier's new tent, the Armed Civilians guarding the tent did not go far and remained standing nearby, staring at this spot.

After returning, Weier stood at the side of the old Merchant, his gaze not meeting that of Knight Jier, but instead looking slightly down at the grass on the ground that had been trampled repeatedly by the crowd.

"Cough, cough, Knight Jier, it is like this."

The old Merchant felt that he could not let two capable and temperamental young men talk alone. To resolve the "chance" he spoke of and to let Weier integrate into this Refugee Team, he had to convince the leader of the Refugee Team—Knight Jier.

"When the Bandits attacked the team earlier, Weier suddenly became clear-headed from his insanity, and he killed three vicious Bandits in a row. Although I cannot say that the good lads in our team have no value, I believe you understand what this represents." The old Merchant spoke slowly. His voice was not loud, but fortunately, the two people beside him could hear clearly, and Jier, who was listening to him, also possessed sharp ears.

"Hmph, three Bandit lives in exchange for the life of one of my subordinates." Jier exhaled: "Phew... I cannot say that these two things can be placed on a scale; one life on my side is worth three of a Bandit's. In fact, I thank you for taking care of three Bandits, but I also cannot forget how you sliced my man's neck with a single sword stroke."

The young man Weier lifted his chin slightly and said slowly: "Then there is nothing more to say? Mr. Fentijia, let it be."

"Wait."

It was the old Merchant who called a halt to the conversation: "Wait, Knight Jier has already forgiven you."

The young man Weier looked at Jier in surprise: "When?"

Jier also hurriedly spoke up: "When did I forgive him? I never said that! Don't talk nonsense; we are all decent people, and one must be responsible for what one says."

The old Merchant smiled and said to Jier: "Lord Knight, I believe I can stand in for this young man here and make a guarantee. Although his previous entry into the Bandit Group organization was a helpless measure of the situation, and he did not directly harm innocent civilians, I believe that in our team, he will surely be able to use his skills to provide strength and help to the team. Weier, isn't that right?"

The young man Weier was stunned; it seemed he had not heard such words of concern for him for a very, very long time. He seemed to recall days from long ago. But he quickly came back to his senses and looked at the old Merchant beside him.

The old Merchant was waiting for his response, his somewhat cloudy eyes looking at him with anticipation. And this pair of eyes was like a pair of sturdy arms that could pull a person out of a quagmire—reliable and full of the hope of life.

"Yes... yes." Taking a breath, the young man Weier raised his head, looked into Knight Jier's eyes, met his gaze, and affirmed with a loud voice: "Yes! I will use my strength to protect this team of civilians and follow your orders!"

He paused, then added: "I swear it by my family!"

Jier tilted his head back: "Family? What family?"

Hearing this, Weier hesitated, not knowing whether he should reveal his background; it was a truth that could wipe out this entire small team of hundreds.

However, the old Merchant coughed twice and said slowly: "Weier, this is the Saint Hors Kingdom. Knight Jier and I believe that no matter where you come from, they surely cannot reach this newly established yet exceptionally powerful Kingdom."

After hearing this, Weier nodded and sat cross-legged on the grass, as if the pressure of revealing his background made him unable to stand.

"I come from the Lianmeng Wangguo in the south..."