Chapter 312: Mask War

"This is my money, all my money! They took my money, yet they dare to stand on the moral high ground, and they even dare to make me thank them!"

A follower of the Dawn Lamp, a middle-aged shepherd who should have pursued the light and spread sunlight to believers and commoners alike, fell into rage and anxiety.

He had sunk too deep; there was no turning back.

Villette, a fourth-tier shepherd, given his age of not yet forty, was destined to enter the church's upper echelons and sooner or later become a true Grand Shepherd.

He had once been a Lantern Bearer in the church, an honorific title within the church for those used for sacrifice and guardianship; the honor he had earned in a death battle against cultists to protect a village, back when he fought for the children until he was left with only a breath of life, but now, he had donned the robes he once despised and become the very existence he had once hated most.

"My money is all gone! If the capital chain breaks, how will I survive? I need to replace my mansion, my seventh lover is asking me for money, my fourth child needs a reserve fund prepared, and I still have to bribe the Grand Priest..."

Some things, once the first step is taken, have no after.

Perhaps that singer who sang of peace was right; ambition and desire are the sources of strife, and once the first step of desire is taken, one only enters the abyss step by step.

In others' eyes, Villette becoming a Grand Priest was likely just a matter of time, but he himself knew he could no longer look directly at his faith, could no longer look directly at his past self; while enjoying a good life, it was also impossible to advance further on the path of "Dawn."

A deity is a beacon, a great road; when you betray this road, if you happen to encounter an "inspection," you might even be directly annihilated by humans, but as long as one does not connect directly with the deity, He lacks the ability to perceive the heart changes of all believers.

However, if he tried to advance, tried to analyze the grace of the god, and sought further divine power to become a Grand Priest, that "corruption" would surely be impossible to hide.

At that time, merely failing to advance would count as the deity system's tolerance.

"Becoming a Grand Shepherd is nowhere near as satisfying as becoming a wealthy patriarch," but Villette felt no regret at all; he felt he had seen through everything long ago.

The asceticism and diligence of those years had exhausted the effort of his entire life; in his view, he now had a reason to enjoy life.

It was also for this reason that his endless greed for money, wealth, and status made him one of the main collaborators in the slave market; no one could have imagined that an excellent shepherd of the Dawn Church, symbolizing "redemption" and "light," would be the one who had sunk the deepest into depravity.

"I am providing a service to the church; only with wealth and future talent can the church better redeem the world..." The Villette of the past was very good at finding reasons to convince himself.

"My money, my money, my money!!"

But now, the grotesque expression on that mask held not a shred of a shepherd's mercy.

Self-deceiving lies had long been shattered with a single poke; if this chain of money was lost, he, this already ruined shepherd, would sooner or later become a stain on the church and be swept out the door.

"Boom!"

The "Dawn Lamp," the sun fire used to dispel darkness and purify evil, was used to burn the dilapidated shanties of refugees.

The "cultist" in the cloak set fires everywhere; he was the most active of all the attackers.

"As long as these bastards and scum leave this place... my slave-hunting team can recover some losses."

He did not even feel he was committing a crime or doing evil that violated the deity's teachings; he felt he was merely recovering his lost property.

Since I cannot recover these "assets" through normal channels, I will use abnormal methods.

Attack this garbage village, let that garbage escape on its own, and then I will turn them back into slaves... even if you come up with new resident records, I won't recognize them on my end!

This is the era; "rules" are only useful on the surface; ultimately, everything comes down to strength.

During the day we speak of rules; at dusk and in the night, only strength matters.

"You look a bit familiar. Oh, that Blood Count has already claimed your first night..."

Villette smiled happily; he had actually found a precious "commodity," and it seemed he could recover some losses in advance.

"Aaaah!" The girl screamed; she remembered the nightmare-like past and even immediately took out a fork, thrusting it toward her own neck.

She would rather die than return to that hell.

"Snap!"

An instant-cast "Human Petrification Spell" froze the woman who had barely escaped hell.

In the middle of the broken house, her face was stiff like a puppet's, filled with fear and despair.

Her body had completely lost control; only uncontrolled tears slid down from her pupils.

"Yes, yes, yes, that's the expression; that old pervert loves this."

Villette smiled happily; he felt he could perhaps raise the price.

For a "middle-level executive" like him, after losing faith and reason, only this hobby remained.

His greedy gaze swept over the surrounding slaves; perhaps he could consume this "unexpected harvest" alone, so he would make these slaves shut up.

His fingers happily reached toward the "puppet's" lower body, intending to inspect the goods first.

If it was already gone, he might even have to pay money; in that case, he would just have to clean up this woman.