Chapter 442: The Sword Saint from Brass Pass

"It's time to do something!"

The morning sun shone through the thin morning mist onto the muddy dirt road outside Wheatfield Village, waking up those busy footprints and also waking up the fragrance of the soil.

Standing on that muddy dirt road, a skeleton carrying a shovel made a creaking sound, the soul fire burning in its skull looking at the open space by the river not far away, its chest full of ambition.

Its nickname was 【Earthly and Simple】, a newbie who had just joined the game recently. As for what it did in reality, it wasn't hard to guess; anyway, it definitely wasn't in civil engineering, otherwise it wouldn't have had plenty of time to soak in the virtual world.

But that wasn't the point.

The point was that after coming to Wheatfield Village, the eighteen martial arts it had learned through hard study finally had a place to be used!

The talent-packed "Earth OL" didn't lack a civil engineering dog like it, but this village waiting to be rebuilt clearly lacked them!

【Gou and Strong】 standing next to it also had an ambitious expression, an expression that only skeleton soldiers could understand among themselves.

"I think this is the place!" It dug a shovel with the shovel in its hand, looking at the mud it dug out and said enthusiastically, "The clay content of the soil in this area is good, the sand content is low, it's not very suitable for planting crops, but it's just right for burning bricks!"

"And it's convenient to get water! It's also close to the main road at the entrance of the village, and it's downwind!" 【Earthly and Simple】 chuckled, its eyes shining as it continued, "Let's start the second phase of our 'Wheatfield Village Reconstruction Plan' with this brick kiln!"

That wasn't the Demon King's plan, but the plan of it and its good brother!

It was said that when Beifeng City and Lei Ming City were engaged in major infrastructure construction, many life-profession players made a fortune, and they couldn't wait to replicate the success of their predecessors.

Although Wheatfield Village wasn't as prosperous as those places, it had great potential.

The NPCs here weren't like people outside, seeing the undead as if they had seen a ghost; they had a high acceptance of all kinds of new things, and were even more flexible and changeable than the lizardmen of the Gana Continent. If things went well, this might be the second important stronghold after Beifeng City!

As for the local tradition of building houses with wood...

I believe that after they see the benefits of bricks, they will definitely not resist living in warmer and sturdier houses!

Two skeleton soldiers carrying shovels discussed creakily, their forward-looking posture as if they were planning the distant future of Wheatfield Village.

They even thought about where the train station would be built and where the railway would pass through... although those things were several eras away from the land under their feet.

An elderly villager carrying a bundle of firewood passed by happily.

Seeing these two skeletons carrying shovels, there was no fear on his face; instead, he waved enthusiastically as if he had seen his father who had passed away many years ago.

"Good morning, Holy Spirits! Although I don't know whose ancestors you are, thanks to you, we can sleep peacefully again!"

"By the way, please ask my father for me, just say that his son is doing well, tell him not to worry about us, and definitely don't come back to see us..."

It wasn't that he didn't want to see his father, he just didn't want the old man who had finally slept peacefully to crawl out of the ground to work again.

Although these Holy Spirit adults didn't seem to feel anything themselves, and even seemed to enjoy it, it didn't prevent him from feeling that they were working hard.

The discussion between the two skeleton soldiers came to an abrupt end.

Although they couldn't respond in language and didn't understand what the villager said, they both waved their pale arms in a friendly manner.

'Any quests, brother?'

'None? Damn! Then bye-bye.'

Both sides replied randomly, the villager smiled contentedly, and with the blessing of his ancestors, walked lightly toward the village.

No one noticed that in the forest not far away, a pair of sharp eyes were taking all this in, and the hand holding the hilt of the greatsword slowly loosened.

Unlike the blood and death on the eastern frontier of the Twilight Forest, the peaceful Wheatfield Village was like an isolated island independent of the storm.

This place was like a unique miracle; there was no hunger, and no death.

If it weren't for those few lonely ruins reminding people of what had happened here, the famine that had once wandered on this land would have seemed as if it didn't exist.

And on the land just one road away from the ruins, newly built wooden houses were scattered in an orderly manner, and were steadily expanding to further places.

What made Gante feel even more incredible was that the endless wheat field outside the village, with crystal clear dew hanging on the green wheat seedlings, was full of vigorous vitality.

The air was filled with the fragrance of damp soil, and wisps of cooking smoke could be vaguely seen in the distance; everything seemed to be announcing that this land was walking out of the sorrows of the past.

Looking around, it was a scene of peace and tranquility...

"Is this... still the Twilight Saint Saint Xingsheng?"

Following behind Gante's tall back, Yurien's face was full of disbelief, his clenched palms were full of sweat, and he couldn't help but wonder if he had come to heaven.

He was an orphan Gante picked up from Gray Stone Town, traveling with Gante all the way, learning survival skills and sword skills, fighting against magical beasts, or fighting against mountain bandits and outlaws... although most of the time it was Gante who made the move.

Along the way, he had seen many villages destroyed by war and famine, but this was his first time seeing such a completely different scene.

Those young eyes had both caution and timidity, as well as curiosity and yearning, just like a child covered in mud who had accidentally entered a rich neighbor's garden, fearing that his clumsy hands and feet would dirty the fence.

Gante, who was walking in front, didn't react much, just observing the surroundings casually. There seemed to be no waves on his expressionless face, but his heart had already set off a stormy sea.

Everything he saw was the exact opposite of the hellish scene he had seen in the Twilight Saint Saint Xingsheng—people here were working, talking, and even laughing.

If it weren't for his absolute confidence in his own strength, he would almost have suspected that he had walked into the domain of another demigod, or an illusion spell cast by a mage of the level of a Great Sage.

This was too incredible!

It wasn't just the things here, but the people here too.

In most kingdoms outside the Empire, soldiers were a privileged class independent of ordinary serfs. They also had their own "glory" or "pride"; they might put on a show for the lord's orders, but they would never be like in this village, eating and living with the lord's serfs, and even building houses and doing farm work together.

He didn't know what the lord here had done, but just this scene in front of him was enough to be called a miracle...

"There is no doubt that this is still the Twilight Saint Saint Xingsheng," Gante looked around, paused, and continued, "But perhaps some things we don't understand have happened."

Yurien swallowed, looked at Gante excitedly and said.

"Famine... has it ended?"

"I don't know, maybe."

Gante didn't say much, just walked forward silently, Yurien followed closely behind him, and followed him into the village.

At this time, Gante, who was observing everywhere, suddenly noticed an old farmer humming an off-key tune, using a hoe to cultivate a vegetable garden enclosed by a fence.

He walked up and said in a hoarse voice.

"Excuse me, what place is this? Which lord rules it?"

The old farmer heard this, stopped the work in his hand, first wiped the sweat on his forehead, then looked at the man carrying the greatsword, and grinned.

"Lord? Haha! You are an outsider who came to Wheatfield Village for the first time, right? Where would there be any lord here?"

Gante was stunned for a moment, looked at the wheat field not far away, and cast a confused look at this farmer.

At least in his impression, only lords would plant so much wheat; ordinary free people, even if they had land, mostly couldn't get such high-quality land, and couldn't organize manpower for large-scale planting.

Could this be a parish?

But he didn't see the figures of churches and priests.

"No lord is..."

"If you're talking about that coward Gard Theron, he tucked his tail and fled from the castle long ago!" Old Hanke grinned, a mocking smile on his lips, but before long the mockery turned into pride, "It's different now; the Salvation Army saved this place."

"... Salvation Army?"

"That's right! They are followers of Her Highness the Saintess! Upholding the creed of loyalty and piety, the swords in their hands do not owe allegiance to any secular lord, but only to the 'Holy Word Book' and the common people under the protection of the Holy Light!"

When he said this, Old Hanke proudly puffed out his chest and told the mercenary-looking man in front of him about what had happened here before, in the tone of someone who had been through it.

When he first heard the part about the Green Forest Army, Gante subconsciously clenched his fists, and Yurien behind him also showed a look of fear on his face.

However, soon, as Her Highness the Saintess walked from the Running River, that desperate story turned into another version, just like an incredible miracle.

"... Her Highness the Saintess walked from the Running River; she brought bread and Holy Light! The rebels were the first to be reformed by her; they took off their headscarves, repented, suddenly began to implement the holy doctrine, and began to help us!"

"Saint Xisi is above... thinking back to that day, I still feel like I'm dreaming! Then there was the Count of Quemubao; perhaps feeling that it would be a dead end if he continued to hold on, he negotiated with the Saintess, gave the castle to her, and then fled with his family!"

Looking at the old farmer who was chattering about "the Saintess's good," Gante's face was full of surprise. Especially when he heard the part about the Count, he asked in a deep voice.

"He left?"

Old Hanke said with a smile.

"Yes, I heard he dropped a harsh word and then left! It is said he went to Dusk City, but I heard from the citizens who came from Dusk City that the situation there is also tough! You can't buy food even if you have money; all the grain was collected by the Viceroy... If you are curious, you can ask Anthony; he is the carpenter in the village, now living by the river, you can find him by smelling the sawdust!"

This old farmer didn't seem to want to say much about Dusk City; he didn't say two or three sentences before the topic returned to Her Highness the Saintess.

After all, he hadn't been to Dusk City and hadn't seen the Viceroy, but he had really seen the Saintess walking in the crowd, and even saw her giving blessings to many newcomers.

Even the nuns of Quemubao were not as approachable as her. Although she was old enough to be his daughter, she reminded him of his mother who had passed away.

Old Hanke didn't know when he had said a lot, including the distribution of land, and a series of reforms implemented by the Salvation Army in the Quemubao territory.

He didn't understand those complicated things, but he could see clearly who was good; whoever could let him eat his fill, he would support whoever as the lord.

Regardless of whether that lord was called a lord or not.

As a pious Roden, from Gante's perspective, this kind of "no king, no minister" rhetoric was undoubtedly rebellious, and even calling it heresy was not an exaggeration.

However, after seeing the real heretics, he instead felt that although these people were a bit ignorant, there was nothing bad about them.

At least they were full, and what was in their bowls was not their compatriots, and what was in their hearts was still the faith in the Holy Light.

Such chaotic corrosion could not invade here; even if they were heretics who needed to be corrected, it was not an urgent matter and could be put aside for later...

Gante didn't intend to evaluate the Saintess and Holy Light in the old farmer's mouth, just pointed to the few skeleton soldiers who were "communicating" with bone heads not far away, and asked his last confusion in his heart in an uncomprehending tone.

"What's going on with those undead? Are they... also the Salvation Army?"

Old Hanke seemed to have expected this outsider to ask this, and a mysterious smile appeared on his face, as if he had finally been discovered after selling a pass for half a day.

"Look at your ignorance! Those are not undead, they are Holy Spirits!"

I am ignorant?

Gante was stunned, and his heart received a huge impact.

He didn't expect that he had traveled to so many places and left a legend as thick as an epic, and one day he would be said to be ignorant?

But thinking about it carefully, he really hadn't seen such capable undead; this was an exception in his adventure career...

"Holy Spirit... what is it?" He finally put down the pride of the Sword Saint and asked the old farmer in front of him for advice.

"They are our ancestors!" Old Hanke chuckled, looked at the mercenary in front of him and said, "To tell you the truth, my grandfather... is the other Old Hanke, maybe he is also in there! They couldn't bear to see the children suffer, so they prayed to Saint Xisi to let them come back to life to help us rebuild our home! It is said that after our village is built, Saint Xisi's messenger will take them away... but honestly, I really can't bear to part with them!"

As he spoke, he pointed to the skeleton frames moving bricks not far away.

"Look at them, they work so hard, they don't take a break all day, they are much better than us living people! Praise my ancestors!"

Hearing this, Gante couldn't help but recall the few undead he saw at the entrance of the village.

The soul fire burning in their skulls was indeed more complete than ordinary lonely ghosts, and there was no smell of chaos and evil.

Clearly, they were not controlled by necromancers, but were acting with their own will.

As for why their souls were so complete... I think it could only be explained by the theory of Saint Xisi sending them.

At least this was not something magic could do.

Combining these clues, Gante barely reached a conclusion he could accept—these undead were indeed different from the undead in his cognition.

He was also very glad that he didn't make a move rashly, otherwise it would have been a good deed done badly, and he really didn't know how to explain it to these villagers.

Yurien standing next to Gante was also greatly shocked, but instead found it easier to accept than Gante standing in front of him.

He hadn't been to as many places as Gante, and this was even his first time leaving Gray Stone Town and going to the Quemubao territory near Dusk City.

Perhaps, the undead outside Gray Stone Town were like this.

At least the undead of Wheatfield Village... oh no, the Holy Spirits were like this!

"Looking at you, you must have come from a very far place, right?" Seeing that this outsider didn't take his words, Old Hanke continued enthusiastically, "By the way, my name is Hanke, everyone calls me Old Hanke. I haven't asked your name yet, I don't know what you are called?"

Gante looked at Yurien who was curiously looking around, and answered concisely.

"My name is Gante, I am a mercenary, currently... wandering around with my adopted son. I want to find a place here to replenish some dry food and water, maybe I will go to Dusk City to take a look."

"Mercenary..." Old Hanke scratched his head and said somewhat embarrassedly, "Then it's hard to buy things; we just settled down here, where would there be any merchants. But there is food..."

As he spoke, he pointed enthusiastically to the other side of the village, the direction where the cooking smoke rose.

"Right over there, that's the porridge distribution point of the Salvation Army! Her Highness the Saintess said, no matter who it is, as long as they are hungry, they can go there to get a bowl of hot porridge! You guys hurry up too, everyone is almost finished eating at this point, if you go late, it will be cold!"

Gante nodded, thanked the old farmer named Old Hanke again, and then took Yurien and walked toward the porridge distribution point.

Just as Old Hanke said, there were few people there, only a short line left, and the firewood for cooking porridge had already been removed.

However, this didn't affect anything.

When he and Yurien got the food, the wheat porridge in the bowl was still hot, and even a bit scalding.

Those Salvation Army soldiers had a kind attitude and didn't treat them harshly because they were new faces, and even smiled and added an extra scoop to Yurien's bowl.

"The young man is quite strong, eat more."

"Thank you!"

"No need to thank me, just thank Her Highness the Saintess and the Son of God! By the way, is that your father next to you? The big guy carrying the sword, I don't think you guys look alike."

Yurien said with a red face.

"He is my adopted father, and also my master!"

"Haha," the soldier serving the porridge smiled and glanced at the sword behind the big guy, teasing, "Then you have a lot to learn."

That sword was probably heavier than this young man.

Gante didn't speak, just nodded in thanks, and then took Yurien to a place nearby that wouldn't get in the way.

Yurien was already starving, holding the bowl and wolfing it down.

Recently he had been eating wild fruits and wild beasts in the forest; although he didn't lack nutrition, the wheat porridge was more suitable for his stomach.

And Gante drank slowly while quietly observing the surroundings, confirming whether the situation here was the same as what Old Hanke said.

The peace on the villagers' faces and the discipline of the soldiers were surprising; none of this looked fake. Although he didn't know where their food came from, there was indeed no evil smell in the porridge.

Although he didn't understand the truth of the "Holy Spirit," he could tell the good from the bad.

No matter who that "Saintess" was, and whether she was sent by Saint Xisi, what she was doing was definitely not a bad thing...

He didn't need to uphold justice for the Church.

That was the business of the Inquisition.

Just as Gante was pondering, a Salvation Army soldier responsible for registration walked over. He saw Gante and Yurien finish the porridge, and said with a smile.

"Buddy, sorry to bother you, the buddy serving porridge just forgot the process."

"Do I need to pay?" Gante wiped his mouth and took out his money bag, but the soldier waved his hand to signal him to stop.

"No, buddy, that's not what I meant, we don't want money... I mean registration! You understand, right? We need your name and the name of your hometown."

"I don't quite understand, can you explain it to me?" Gante put away the money bag and asked the soldier.

The soldier said with a smile.

"This is mainly for convenience of management; after all, there are so many people here, we have to be careful about rebels or the lord's people mixing in to cause trouble. And... registration is not a bad thing for you, many people have found their relatives or fellow villagers here."

Gante looked at him and felt it made sense, so he said casually: "My name is Gante, this is my adopted son, Yurien. We come from Gray Stone Town."

In the eastern region of the Os Continent, from the north of the Roden Kingdom to the Twilight Forest area of the Lain Kingdom, Gante was a common name, just like Hanke, Anthony, etc.

He didn't mention his surname; for one thing, he didn't want people to know his identity, and for another, it was very troublesome to explain.

"Gray Stone Town?" The soldier was surprised upon hearing this, "Isn't that at the easternmost end of the province? I heard it's almost at the border of the dwarves! Saintess above, you guys actually walked from so far away! That side... how is the situation now?"

Most of the previous refugees were from near the Quemubao territory; this brother was probably the one from the farthest hometown!

Gante answered calmly.

"That place has been destroyed."

By the "Butcher" Malachi of the Green Forest Army—a devil who sold his soul to chaos and exchanged the blood of his own kind for power.

Of course, that guy had already been killed by him.

Sooner or later, he would find all these villains and kill them all!

The surprise on the soldier's face turned into sympathy.

He didn't ask any more questions, just silently recorded it in the registration book, then took two small wooden plaques, carved the names and numbers with a small knife, and handed them to them.

Looking at the wooden plaque in his hand, Yurien had a look of surprise, while Gante's expression was somewhat intriguing.

He remembered that only the Adventurer's Guild would do such troublesome things, and that was a memory from a long, long time ago for him.

"Please keep it well, this is your identity plaque, you can use this to get porridge tomorrow." The soldier paused and asked again, "By the way, what can you do? I mean, do you have any skills? If not, it doesn't matter, I see you are quite strong, you shouldn't have trouble finding work."

Gante shook his head.

"I don't know, I haven't decided whether to stay yet."

"I suggest you decide as soon as possible," the soldier said sincerely, "This relates to land distribution, and even more to you being able to live a better life as soon as possible! Her Highness the Saintess said, as long as you are willing to contribute to the village, you can get a piece of land of your own. I see you look like you've been a mercenary, you must have been to many places. Why don't you... uh, how about opening an inn? The village is just short of a place for them to stay."

He also thought of it temporarily; it is said that dwarves will come to inspect the timber business soon, and the battalion commander has been worrying about where to find a place for them to stay.

Gante was stunned for a moment; he didn't expect that he, an outsider, could also get land, and didn't expect that the other party would suggest that he, a Sword Saint, open an inn.

Of course, this young man clearly didn't know he was a Sword Saint; the fame of Gante Steingraber was not as widely spread as the "Rock Sword Saint."

He looked at Yurien who was looking forward to it, and couldn't help but think of the old man who died in Gray Stone Town. It was precisely because of the piece of bread he left behind that Yurien lost his only relative... even if it wasn't his intention, this guilt had always been pressing on his heart.

He wanted to find a home for this child.

If it was really as good as the old farmer said, staying wouldn't be a problem.

Moreover, an inn was a good place to collect intelligence, better than wandering around in the forest like a headless fly.

Everyone he met said they had seen the "Green Headscarf" and pointed the way for him with certainty, but when he found it, he found that it was outdated information.

Thinking of this, Gante nodded.

"... I can try."

Hearing this, Yurien's eyes lit up instantly, and his face bloomed with expectation.

After the soldier who registered them left, he clenched his fists excitedly, unable to help but imagine the future.

"Master, how about we open the inn at the entrance of the village? We can build a stable! And keep a watchdog! By then I will be responsible for cleaning and cooking, and you will be responsible for being the shopkeeper!"

Finally, no more wandering around!

Although he didn't hate wandering around with his master, he really wanted to have a home and return to the comfortable life he had before.

Yurien was only fourteen or fifteen years old, and came from a remote border town; he only knew that the Sword Saint was very strong, but didn't know what this title meant.

He was not only carrying the legend of the Sword Saint, but also shouldering the responsibility and hope that matched the name of the hero.

He was destined not to stay in one place.

Looking at the chattering Yurien, a rare gentle smile appeared on Gante's face, which was as resolute as a rock.

"As long as you like it."

Yurien's excitement suddenly stopped; he looked at Gante carefully and asked in a low voice: "Master... don't you like it?"

He felt that this sentence seemed to carry a hint of parting.

Gante was silent for a moment, looked at the continuous Ten Thousand Swords Mountain range in the distance, and said slowly.

"I can't say I like it or don't like it, I just rarely stay in one place for a long time; whenever I get idle, someone will always need me to make a move. Moreover, the Brass Pass still needs me right now; I came to the Twilight Saint Saint Xingsheng just to solve the corrosion of chaos."

Yurien said without hesitation: "I can go there with you! After the chaos here ends!"

"But I hope you stay in a safe place," Gante withdrew his gaze, looked at his only disciple and nominal son, and said seriously, "At least, until you become a swordsman who can stand on his own."

He didn't say his dream of "proving the Dao with the sword," nor did he say he was for the fate of all mankind, or for high-sounding words like Saint Xisi.

He just reached out his rough hand like a father, patted Yurien on the back of the head, and a rare gentle smile appeared on his resolute face.

"Don't make it sound like I'm going to abandon you immediately; I plan to stay here for a while to find a way to solve the corrosion of chaos."

"As for future things, let's talk about them later." ===== CHAPTER 443 =====