Chapter 315

I dare to judge good and evil—do you dare?

Insult—this is unquestionably direct, face-to-face humiliation.

But does this High Priest dare? He truly does not.

Even though everyone knows High Clerics aren't that pure, even though everyone questions whether that once-devout believer has been corrupted, if a soul judged evil and fallen appears in a high position within the Church of the Good God, he will naturally lose everything.

The deity lacks the power to oversee every believer and every cleric, but every believer, subordinate, and superior will look at you with doubt and contempt—even if they themselves are no cleaner.

"Damn brat! How dare you?!"

But refusing this verification alone is enough to reveal much.

Today's events are certain to spread throughout the city; Bishop Lain has no future left—even though he was already an outsider at Church Headquarters, being questioned by a Holy Knight of evil and refusing verification of evil has already rendered him infamous.

This is precisely what makes Holy Knights so unsettling, even terrifying: all magic and supernatural powers depend on resistance and relative strength; there is no such thing as "absolute authority" or "infinite penetration."

Judgment of Sin Realm, Detection of Evil—these judgment-based abilities still depend on resistance; the strong can refuse. But what cannot be refused is the human heart.

"You're fine—why did you refuse?"

Killing is nothing compared to destroying the soul.

For a cleric, losing honor and trust means losing everything.

Bishop Lain might suppress this scandal with seniority and connections, but he is destined to lose much—vastly much.

Those sincere trusts and aspirations, those resonances and mutual alignments forged by shared faith, are the most precious assets.

"Is it worth it, young man?"

The old cleric's face turned black; he clenched his lips and said nothing.

Nearby, the intermediate-tier archmage Kurna sighed; he had long given up trying to mediate—the two sides were now certain enemies.

He could only marvel at how bold this young man was, having utterly ruined the man.

But is it truly worth it? As Bishop Lain had said, the assassin behind could just as easily come from the Church of the Good God—why not all profit together?

"Hum."

Li En raised his sheathed holy sword; sacred light spilled forth from it.

It illuminated Li En's cheek, and the path beneath his feet.

No reply was needed, no empty words—this was enough.

If some are destined never to walk the same path, and you stand in my way, then it's a fight to the death—either you die or I do.

Kind ordinary people can be butchered by you—and since I now have power, and I dislike you, why should I endure?

"A purely good knight? Then you truly can't stand it… Fine, our faction shouldn't get involved. But the kingdom is now in turbulent times—proceed with caution."

As Li En expected, when this representative of the mage faction intervened, since neither side intended full-scale war, certain matters naturally ended here.

But Li En's goal had already been achieved; those receipts and exchange vouchers meant little, and the High Cleric who voluntarily stepped forward to embrace historical shame was unimportant.

What matters is that you were slapped—and you didn't slap back.

You, have grown weak.

Li En's town was attacked; the losses were minor, even negligible—he might even say he "gained" from it—but Li En still had to strike back. Even though he knew the attackers had little to do with the slave market itself, and were mostly agents of behind-the-scenes stakeholders, Li En still had to slap the slave market on the docks.

And now, Li En has slapped back—it is the slave market and its backers' turn.

"Come on, hit here! If you don't hit, you're a coward!"

As a Holy Knight, Li En's conduct was crude—but that crudeness and brute irrationality stood in stark, glaring contrast to the "noble" bishop.

The old cleric was furious, but now he had stepped forward—he tried to protect this moneybag and his "supply channel," and by doing so, he had abandoned any remaining excuse for "nobility."