Chapter 349: The Scene Is Extremely Awkward

The Inquisition is an independent institution, separate from the three major dioceses… now only two remain… with its own personnel, finances, and armed forces, possessing the authority to supervise and judge all clergy.

The pyre is the Inquisition's most famous tool, followed by the Judgement Knights, the Holy Symbol Knights, the Grand Inquisitors, the Inquisition Army, and the God of Justice and Arbitration.

God of Justice and Arbitration is the full title, just as the Scale God's full title is God of Equality and Scales, the Redeemer Goddess's full title is Goddess of Love and Redemption, and the God of Light and Darkness's full title is God of Light and Shadow.

People's worship of power and gods allows them to invent ten thousand dazzling and solemn titles.

But gods vary in strength—like the God of Knowledge, whom no one can defeat, or the God of Undeath, whom no one can defeat…

The God of Arbitration is the one among the Guangming gods whom no one can defeat; its combat power is unmatched, it holds authority over the judgment and arbitration of all clergy, and is the final force upholding justice, order, and law.

Of course, that's only when the entire divine system operates perfectly; now that the gods have fallen, no one knows if the God of Arbitration is even alive—what justice, order, or law remains?

If any still existed, someone like Dai Sen would be the first on the pyre—why would Ang need to kill him?

Even though order has collapsed and laws are chaotic, the Inquisition still operates independently, still holds the authority to judge all heretics, and frequently deploys—after all, if it doesn't act, where does its funding come from?

An institution independent of the three major dioceses cannot accept funding from them, or it would be easily manipulated—where would justice lie then?

Aside from temple funding, the Inquisition's main revenue comes from confiscations; to secure funds, it must actively curb illegal activities within the dioceses and strive to find more faults and impose more fines.

To avoid being judged and fined, the dioceses from top to bottom must strictly regulate their believers and clergy, holding themselves to the strict standards of divine law.

Under the supervision of the gods, this was actually a fairly well-functioning mechanism—if the Inquisition itself committed illegal acts, the gods would immediately punish them; but the problem now is that there are no gods left.

Anthony said that the Holy Symbol Knights and the Mobile Inquisition Courts are among the few remaining lights in the Guangming Church, because apart from them, the entire Guangming Church is utterly black, rotten to the core—including the upper echelons of the Inquisition.

Too many shenanigans—enough to fill another million-word epic—skip them.

Anthony was willing to split the Church and seize control of the Eastern Diocese largely to rein in those utterly corrupt upper echelons, including the Inquisition.

But he has no direct jurisdiction over the Inquisition—only oversight, replacing part of the gods' functions—and it has indeed been effective.

Under his oversight, the Inquisition in the Eastern Diocese has greatly restrained itself; there are rarely anymore incidents of destroying families, massacring villages, killing innocents, and falsely labeling them as heretics.

In addition, he supplements the Eastern Diocese's Inquisition with donations from "zealous believers," welfare, subsidies, children's education, parents' retirement care, fair pensions, and so on.

You can't accept temple funding—but can you refuse donations from believers? Would you dare stifle their enthusiasm? Don't you think hundreds of believers would immediately kneel at the Inquisition's gates and refuse to rise unless you take their money?

As for field benefits, anti-static silk undergarments are one example, among countless other items too numerous to count.

Negril once included several rolls of cotton cloth in the supplies sent to Xiamala; she still praises it to this day—but such "kindness" pales beside that of a thousand-year-old divine conman.

As long as you don't cause trouble and serve believers fairly, Anthony can arrange everything for your entire family—even your retirement.

Even more outrageous: Anthony restricts local judgments—all Grand Inquisitors must conduct field duties and can only judge cases from other cities; sometimes, multiple cities must jointly adjudicate.

The Grand Inquisitors of the Eastern Diocese suffer terribly under Anthony's Zheteng, but due to the excellent hidden benefits and peace of mind, plus a touch of honor in upholding fairness, many upright Grand Inquisitors still prefer serving in the Eastern Diocese and refuse to transfer out once they've served.

But the one speaking now, Luo Ke, is not a Grand Inquisitor of the Eastern Diocese; this location lies at the border between two dioceses, so the Grand Inquisitor has jurisdiction over both, especially with a witch—long unseen—now appearing.

So as soon as he heard the news, Luo Ke rushed over immediately.

Anthony gave a cold laugh: "You're here fast."

At Anthony's tone, everyone sensed something was off; Negril asked curiously: "Something strange?"

Anthony said: "Of course. The nearest city with an Inquisition is over three hours away by fast horse. Lucy's awakening took less than three hours. Unless he flew here on a dragon, he's been lurking nearby, waiting to cause trouble."

"It's just a refugee camp—what's there to cause trouble? Did he already know something would happen here?" Negril asked, puzzled.

Anthony smiled: "Even if something were to happen, he wouldn't need to send a Grand Inquisitor himself. Who here is worth his attention?"

As Anthony spoke, his thumb unconsciously gestured toward himself.

But everyone turned their gaze to Ang; Lu Se, the only one who had noticed him, exclaimed in surprise: "Lord Anthony, did your thumb spasm?"

"Targeting Ang? These people are asking for death. This'll be good." Negril grinned with malicious delight.

Anthony assumed they were coming for him, but as Luo Ke approached, his first glance landed on Ang, then he turned to Anthony and greeted: "Lord Anthony, long time no see. May the Holy Light protect you."

That remark was provocative. Ordinary believers bless him with "may the Holy Light protect you"—that's a blessing. But Anthony, as the Acting Pope, at least a Grand Archbishop, is a vessel of divine power—"may the Holy Light protect you" is inappropriate.

It's like wishing someone who can live a thousand years to live only a hundred.

Clearly, they're targeting Ang. Anthony suddenly smiled—he was now eager to see how Ang, with his awkward, silent nature, would handle this judgment. As Negril said: "These people are asking for death. This'll be good."

With the anticipation of entertainment, Anthony no longer minded the provocation in the words; he chuckled: "Oh, it's Luo Ke. May the Holy Light protect you too."

Luo Ke paused, startled. Anthony's temper had softened so much since last they met? He could sense Anthony's blessing held genuine warmth.

He glanced at Anthony suspiciously, then said: "I received word that a witch has appeared here. I've come specifically, in the name of the God of Arbitration, to handle it. May I ask… oh, is this the famed Ascetic Lord Ang? Luo Ke pays you homage."

As if seeing Ang for the first time, Luo Ke loudly proclaimed, raised his palm, summoned Holy Light, pressed it to his shoulder, and bowed deeply.

Ang tilted his head, glanced at him, then his gaze settled on the Holy Light in his palm.

One second, two seconds, three seconds—the scene slowly became unbearably awkward…

PS: Headache. Can't hold on. Will rest a bit. Next chapter…