Chapter 816: Side Story

Side Story: "Hunting"

Let us turn the clock back slightly, to the time when Jier was entangled with bandit monsters on the merchant road northwest of Yemei Town.

Outside of Duoen Town, in a dilapidated shack for debtors.

Inside a rotten "house" simply constructed from discarded building materials that no one in town wanted, seven or eight men and women—who were not only penniless but also deeply in debt—had gathered here specifically during the peak of the midday sun, saving their precious time for rest.

They were kneeling and bowing toward a wooden statue on a mud platform in the middle of the shack.

If one were to peer inside through the cracks of the house at this moment, most people would mistake it for a common, spontaneous religious ritual.

However, there was indeed something different about this place; although the wooden statue being worshipped was made of common material, the carving was exquisite, but the problem was that this wooden statue was not in the shape of a human.

Not only was it not human, but the god's head and face were in the image of a bird.

This wooden statue being worshipped was, unexpectedly, an animal image that almost no gods used nowadays.

It was too primitive and backward.

Yet, these debtors, who could not even be considered the poor, were all looking fanatical, and the atmosphere was intense.

"Great Lord of the Wilderness! We submit to you."

"Protector of the Night! Please save your believers!"

Most of the debtors lacked culture and knowledge, so they kept repeating only these two sentences. Generally speaking, even the Nongshen Believers, who had the most extensive faith and were farmers who worked hard in the fields every day, could recite seven or eight variations of the prayers they had heard.

It stood to reason that these two simple prayers from the debtors would not only fail to please the god but would also be loathed by the low-tier Priests who managed the believers.

However, the god who was receiving the people's kneeling and prayers at this moment was quite pleased with them.

Look, because of the joy of the new believers, the god decided to give these believers a little treat.

"Caw! Caw-caw!"

The noisy cawing of crows gradually drifted over from the direction of the town not far away.

Originally, this was a sound people disliked, even considering it ominous. At this moment, however, these kneeling believers acted contrary to their usual behavior; when they were not facing the god's statue while kowtowing, they would even show excitement and surprise on their faces—no, it was a smile that should have been there.

"Caw! Caw! Caw!"

There was more than one crow; after the first one landed on the roof of the dilapidated house, three more followed in succession. They noisily communicated on the low, broken roof, hopping back and forth.

After waiting for a while, just as the people inside the house were losing patience and about to take action, the wooden statue on the mud platform suddenly shook with a clatter. The shadow of the wooden statue, cast by the glaring sunlight leaking through the hole in the roof, eerily extended and swayed, sliding over the figures of the believers in the room before darting toward the door.

Slap!

It pulled the rotten wooden door wide open in one motion.

The believers inside the room were trembling with fear at this abnormal scene, but soon, the four crows hovering on the roof flapped their wings one after another, rushing into the interior of the house like pitch-black shadows in the air.

The last crow to enter even turned its body and bumped into the door pulled open by the statue, slamming the dilapidated wooden door, which was full of cracks, shut.

The four large crows flapped their wings in the air within the cramped, broken house; this scene was terrifying, and if a first-time observer were timid, they might even have wet their pants.

But at this moment, these destitute believers were not afraid; instead, they lay prone on the ground, yet boldly raised their heads, staring greedily with rapid breathing at the crows that were gradually landing on the edge of the mud platform.

These crows were the god's messengers, and the human believers stared at them with burning eyes not because of reverence, but entirely because each crow's talons were clutching something they desperately craved.

"Caw—"

The lead crow hopped once, arriving in front of the wooden statue, and then, with a jingle, this fellow—which was a size larger than an average crow—dropped a coin it had been clutching in its left talon.

On the solid mud floor, packed down by human feet, the small, golden-brown coin spun for a good while before landing with the Regent's portrait face-up.

The believer at the very front, upon seeing that the coin before him was not silver-white, showed a look of annoyance for an instant. But under the scrutiny of the crow's black-bean-like eyes, he quickly tucked away this annoyance and instead performed an expression of overwhelming gratitude.

The crow's bird-face seemed to reveal a trace of disdainful mockery. However, almost no one could discern anything from a bird's face.

Subsequently, the crow let out a "Caw," and only then did the human below kowtow a few times, trembling as he reached out his hand to grasp the copper coin that had fallen before him.

In truth, for debtors who had nothing, a single copper coin was really not a small amount.

Take this man for example: he owed a small casino in town two Silver Coins and thirty-eight copper coins due to gambling. After being sold to a nearby field to tend to orange trees for a Merchant, he could earn a so-called "income" of two copper coins for a hard day's work. By this calculation, excluding the interest on the debt, he only needed to work there for one hundred and nineteen days to pay off his debt.

Then he could go from being a debtor whom no one would even look at, to a poor person in Duoen Town with almost no property.

How joyous, how joyous indeed.

Of course, things would not go so smoothly. Not to mention the interest on the debt, which was more ruthless than skinning and cutting flesh, or whether a middle-aged man like him could hold out through over a hundred days of hard labor, the Merchant's orange grove did not require people to watch over it all year round.

Once the oranges were harvested on a large scale, there was basically no need for debtors to help there. As a job that required a bit of skill, such work was not available every day.

And working in the fields further out from the town to grow grain was a job that required more people, was more arduous, and had a lower daily "income."

When that time came, this man's debt would naturally be nowhere near being paid off.

Fortunately, however, these poor debtors had finally welcomed their savior, a generous god who had taken a fancy to these humble people.

By having Faith in the God of the Wilderness, the Protector of Wings, the Guardian of the Night, and coming here to pray and worship every day—even without an official Priest of this god to back them up—they could randomly obtain a portion of wealth beyond their hard labor from the talons of the divine messengers sent by the god every day.

Although it seemed like only one copper coin, that was really not a small amount!

After all, the great god might bestow Gold Coins or Silver Coins! Just one! If they were lucky enough to get one, these debtors, men and women alike, could quickly escape this invisible prison and the endless labor.

Two days ago, someone had received a Gold Coin brought by the divine messengers, directly shedding their status as a debtor, and was even able to use the remaining money to eat, drink, and play to their heart's content in Duoen Town!

These were all things they had seen with their own eyes, not some nonsense blown out by a drunkard in a tavern.

At this moment, after the man received the coin bestowed by the god through the crow messenger, he shuffled to the side without lifting his knees, letting the next person move to the front to receive the Divine Grace.

The next person was a woman, around thirty years of age, but years of hard toil had already made her look vastly different from the merchants' wives in town who strolled about with their pets.

Even if this woman had been a pretty girl in the Cunzi with many suitors when she was young, at this moment, her messy hair, a simple and even tattered Linen Cloth dress, and a pair of sturdy, rough palms presented her story from these years to everyone in a way that required no one to tell it.

If you were to ask how a girl who was pretty and had many suitors in her youth ended up in this state and this situation, I can only say that it is just like the many cautionary tales of love that many Bards in the tavern whisper about while resting: the story of a girl who was doted on in the Cunzi, who bravely followed a Caravan wagon and a young male of such-and-such status to go and make a living in a big town.

In the common openings of these stories, Bards always use sentimental singing voices to promote the greatness and passion of love, the simplicity and kindness of the village girl, and most importantly, her beauty. In addition, there is the uninhibited outsider male who intrudes into the girl's monotonous village life; at such times, Bards will cunningly "package" the important character in this story, always pinning traits like enthusiastic, brave, handsome, and amorous onto the outsider male.

And in the middle of the story, the Bards, accompanied by the sound of the lute in their hands, use impassioned, uplifting melodies and flowery lyrics to tell how the village girls in the story dance gracefully in the prosperous, civilized world.

But at the same time, these cunning Bards also gradually reveal the story's hurtful fangs and claws at this point. The male who brought the girl out of the Cunzi will mostly reveal his previous disguise, completely dumping the dark, prosperous society and the burden of a changed life onto the simple girl.

At this point, the story often has various directions, depending on how much the tavern patrons tipped the performing Bards, and whether the patrons loudly stated the direction they wanted the story to take.

Of course, the final curve of the story is naturally downward; otherwise, how could such a story show its cautionary meaning? However, if there are generous guys among the patrons who pay out of their own pockets to reward the Bard with some coins, the story will naturally take a turn for the better through the Bard's glib tongue, turning danger into safety.

But having said so much above, what does it have to do with this woman kneeling on the ground, begging for the crow messenger's reward?

Oh, this one; her life experience is not much different from those girls in stories. At this moment, her life's circumstances are mostly the same as a bard without anyone to tip them, plunging headlong into the bottomless abyss of life with a downward momentum.

I even heard that a certain local bard took her life story and composed a thousand-word song about it.

But this woman, I reckon, has never had the time or wealth to go to town and listen to her own story.

"I submit to you, great God of the Wilderness, please save your believer!"

Speaking these words, the woman forcefully knocked her forehead against the mud floor that had been trampled solid by many feet.

Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.

The crow that had been clutching a copper coin tilted its head, let out a 'caw', and hopped to the side. Immediately, another smaller crow hopped over, directly released its two claws one after the other, and dropped a copper coin along with a shiny hairpin.

"Thank you, great deity, thank you, great deity."

The woman did not lift her head; her disheveled, scattered hair also obscured her expression and eyes.

However, the crow acting as the divine messenger and the wooden Statue of the God in the center of the platform did not care.

They watched, they waited, they were indifferent; after all, the scene before them, rather than being a deity's grace to a believer, was better described as a 'transaction' wrapped in crude packaging.

One side wanted the power of Faith, the other side wanted the meager wealth that could change their life.

Each took what they needed, each took what they needed.

The woman kneeling before the mud platform quickly grabbed the copper coin in her hand, then picked up the silvery, shiny hairpin in confusion. Through her hanging, messy hair, she examined this exquisitely crafted hairpin, froze for a moment, and then tears dripped from her eye sockets, though she was unaware of it.

She had never seen this thing before, so naturally, it could not be a hair ornament she had once used.

She shed tears unconsciously; perhaps they were merely tears of regret left behind by the battered, scarred former self within her currently wretched body.

After all, when she was young, she was just like this silvery, exquisite hair ornament—shiny, delicate—and the previous owner of this hair ornament might have been some beautiful, young, slender girl, just as she once was.

But soon, she came to her senses, realized her current situation, and immediately put the silvery hair ornament into her mouth and bit down hard.

It was silver!

A snicker escaped her mouth, but she quickly regained her composure, remembering what truly needed to be done at this time.

"Thank you, deity! Thank you, deity! Thank you, deity! Thank you, deity!"

The woman kept knocking her head; through this constant gratitude, especially the excitement and sincerity in her words, the others in the room seemed to feel something. Immediately, gazes of envy and jealousy were cast upon this woman.

The woman gripped the copper coin and the exquisite silver hair ornament tightly, moved her body, and went to the corner of the room, hoping not to make herself too conspicuous. But no matter how she curled up, there were still gazes around her secretly sizing her up.

Those gazes were like the whips of overseers, ruthless and greedy.

"Caw!"

The crow with empty claws let out a sudden, loud cry.

This sudden cry made the Humans in the room come to their senses, realizing that the heavy reward was bestowed by the deity they 'believed' in. Unless they did not want to receive the deity's generous grace in the future, they could not go and rob or deceive a believer who had been granted grace by the deity.

Some quick-witted fellows hurriedly prayed to the wooden Statue of the God on the platform with even more respectful voices.

Perhaps there would be no more generous grace today, but it didn't matter; such a generous deity might bestow such grace upon one of them every day in the future.

Thinking this way, everyone became more pious.

Piety, indeed.

"Are they all inside?"

A young voice asked softly.

"Of course, Priest, those damn fellows are all inside. Not just here, but in the nearby farmland and the other two places where the debtors gather, the manpower has already been arranged."

A cold voice respectfully replied to the former's question.

Not far outside the dilapidated wooden house where the debtors gathered at high noon, in a patch of berry bushes, several sturdy figures wearing mottled Cloaks were currently half-kneeling in a circle, all facing a young man.

This young man wore a somewhat special Priest Robe; unlike the cloth or silk robes worn by other Priests, his robe was made of huge yellow animal hides, sturdy and flexible. Behind this Priest's head, in the position of the hood, a massive lion skull replaced the hood.

Of course, this majestic lion head had undergone complex processing; not only were the biological tissues inside the skull removed, but exquisite techniques were also used to fill in the collapsed and sunken areas, making the skull look lifelike even after death, and it could be worn directly on the young Priest's head as a Helmet or hood.

The several figures around the Priest each carried a bow more than half a person's height on their backs, which forced them to lean forward while half-kneeling on the ground, otherwise the bottom of the bow would have poked into the mud on the ground.

"If I give the order now, will everyone start acting?"

The young Priest was somewhat cautious, asking in a low voice the respectful Refining Qi Hunters around him. These people were all Refining Qi Hunters under the Hunting God Church, and each had legendary stories that could be recorded in books or were worth being sung by Bards.

For this Great Hunt of the deity, these Hunters were already impatient.

Although the targets mentioned in these people's mouths did not seem to be animals, to these Hunters who excelled at Hunting, in this world, besides difficult Monster Magic Beasts, where could there be better Hunting targets than Humans of the same status and those ancient, great, primitive deities?

This was not the best Hunting target, but it still made the Hunters excited.

Opportunities to Hunt a deity were not very common, and many Refining Qi Hunters were unlucky enough not to have such an opportunity in their entire lives. This made these Hunters hot-blooded today, determined to finish off the target assigned to everyone by the Hunting God in this activity.

"Please give the order, Priest. It's a hot noon, and almost no one is active in the fields; this is an excellent opportunity. The believers hastily developed by the hunted deity are also carelessly staying with the birds controlled by the hunted deity at this moment."

The cold voice continued to narrate, analyze, and urge the young Priest before him.

"As soon as the order is given, the companions will act simultaneously. In this way, the power of the hunted deity on the outskirts of Duoen Town will be completely wiped out."

The young Priest looked at the town not far away: "Must the believers also be eliminated? Can't we spare them? This isn't a war of gods, and doing this will make the locals hate us, right?"

"My lord," the cold voice continued: "This is not a war of gods, this is just a Hunting activity of the church, and this is not the first time; other churches have also been notified, so it won't cause panic or misunderstanding. Besides, eliminating the believers who believe in the hunted deity is necessary; before the final Hunt begins, we must prune that one's power."

The young Priest curled his lips: "But we deliberately gave Him the space and time to develop power..."

Hearing the young Priest's complaining words, the several Refining Qi Hunters around him all revealed smiles on their faces.

One of them, the owner of that cold voice, said: "My lord, only then will the Hunting activity not end quickly, and it won't be so monotonous. After all, this is a Hunt dedicated to the great Hunting God, and He is watching us. Please give the order."

The young Priest took out a bone Hushin Statue of the God from the small leather bag at his waist; it was a small Statue of the God of the Hunting God, a Human image holding a Hunting Bow, wearing a Cloak, with a hunting hawk on his shoulder and a hunting hound at his feet.

The bone statue was extremely smooth, as if it had been held by many people.

At this moment, the young Priest took this Hushin Statue of the God in his hand and looked at it, discovering that the small deity statue smiled at him and nodded encouragingly.

This seemed to make the young Priest make up his mind.

"Do it. Before the sun begins to shift from the sky, finish them. Then, let's go to this town and resolve the residual power left by the hunted deity."

"As you command, Priest."

The Refining Qi Hunters said in unison.