Chapter 397: What Is the Basic Skill of the Zhuangma Church?

Although each Holy Knight is proficient in the Holy Light Healing Technique, only alchemists with absolutely top‑notch skill can achieve the treatment efficiency that continuously funnels the wounded inside.

Considering the team previously had none and cannot suddenly spawn such a specialist, the only possibility is that this person is an acquaintance who can happen to be here at this moment.

Thus, after parting the Floating Light Knights surrounding them, Te Nisi saw that the one who had found a clean spot to conduct an outdoor diagnosis was none other than Ji Ming himself.

Although he hasn't formally treated anyone in a long time, the skill honed by intense practice doesn't fade quickly, and after a brief adjustment he regained his former efficiency.

Consequently, with ample medicine, the near‑dead were pulled back to life, and those slated for amputation saved a limb—truly a string of good news.

For morale that had hit rock bottom, this was undoubtedly a tonic; the knights with complex expressions finally managed a few smiles.

It was gratifying yet regrettable that Ji Ming's treatment ended quickly, because every wounded who could still breathe had already been examined, leaving no more patients.

"Don't rush off; rest here for a while, recover your strength, then returning to the city won't be too late."

After a final instruction, Ji Ming followed Te Nisi to a secluded spot nearby.

The old lady's first action after stopping was to draw the whip hanging from her waist.

"Speak up—did I strike you, or did you strike yourself?"

So fierce, Grandma, you even brandished a whip?

Although Ji Ming acted because he guessed Te Nisi would calm down and regain his senses, he didn't expect the other to open with such shocking words.

—Weren't we supposed to be the abstinent faction? Why suddenly revert to nostalgic attire!

Fortunately, he was prepared and produced the pre‑planned excuse.

First, he indeed received a warning from Du She, saying they planned to ambush the Northward Squad today.

But the problem is she only gave the time and the people involved, saying nothing about the location, because…

"Because that man who can use magic and almost succeeded, forcibly interfered with the assassination plan?"

There's a saying: you stand on a bridge watching the scenery, while the person watching the scenery looks at you from upstairs.

So when Bai Lixiang triumphantly pinned the pot onto Du She, he certainly didn't anticipate that Ji Ming also pinned the pot onto him.

The theoretical basis of this 'pot' is—since the Holy Light Church can blend into its own territory and make a defense, the Mi Lin Church has no obligation to be uniformly rigid.

Therefore, in Ji Ming's account, Bai Lixiang's existence is not a restraint or oversight for Du She, but a pure mortal enemy.

He targets a Du She who flips the table while picking vegetables, Du She offers a toast he refuses; I have no selfish motives, all actions are to oppose the elders!

When the two met, the hatred made their eyes bloodshot; if not for a pile of wooden ranks blocking them, they would have already been evaluating whose sword was sharper.

Bai Lixiang also leans on his church's tiger skin, clings desperately to Du She after the first assassination failed, then maliciously drags out the timeline, successfully meddling in the plan's formulation.

Of course, his interference wasn't to help but to disgust; consequently, Du She's several proposals were all nitpicked by him and unanimously vetoed.

Speaking of this, to verify his words, Ji Ming produced a secret letter that Du She had given him.

Since the letter was written by Du She, the trembling, frantic scrawl and the densely packed profanity alone prove its authenticity.

Upon learning the difficulties Du She faced, Ji Ming, as her superior, immediately wrote a reply and gave it to the messenger to send back.

In his view, faced with such a constrained deadlock, the only solution is: "If you are unkind, don't blame me for being unjust."

Thus, following this line of thought, his advice to Du She was simple: engage in reckless procrastination, delaying all plan submissions.

For example, if she intends to act in the afternoon, she should raise the banner of an urgent notice and only propose it near noon.

If Bai Lixiang still dares to stubbornly oppose her, she can later slap a "delayed operation" label on him, letting him taste the feel of a boomerang.

"So that's how it is."

Anyway, everything followed Ji Ming's words, and judging from the facts it indeed seemed so; Te Nisi therefore had no reason to launch an inquiry.

Instead, after a moment of calculation, he suddenly looked up.

"Wait, that Du She…"

"I employed some techniques from the Soul‑Spirit Holy Seat; people... just need to ease a little, but unfortunately that thread is... broken."

"... Hmm, everything has a price; as long as the matter gets resolved, that's enough."

"That's the principle."

Once they sorted out what lay behind, the surviving knights had also largely rested.

"Let's go, we'll return to the city later."

The subsequent matters naturally fell to the Floating Light Marquis to resolve, but that meant conscripting civilians to clear the battlefield and providing compensation to the fallen knights.

Already in decline, he patted his own purse and found that such huge expenses in a short time were indeed hard to cover.

If it were the past, he could shamelessly learn from peers to levy corvée, not to mention he had never done this before; even if he did, the church elders would still be around.

If the church took offense and vented the fury of the assassination onto him, returning to the Royal Capital would involve a blatant oppression of the populace…

These matters—if not reported, they're lighter than a goose feather; once reported, they become a thousand pounds, and then one would truly be stripped by those pretending to be righteous.

But forward it's a slash, and backward, if you can't produce the money, that's also a slash.

Given the Floating Light family's current health bar, it seems to be a fatal situation.

When he spent money to send his subordinates next door to rally the half‑elf morale, he didn't even dare to join the group, and exhausted his remaining savings.

Worried, he lost appetite for tea and food, even halted his usual morning routine, merely clutching the hand extended from his external brain.

"Ai Xiya, is the plan going to be safe?"

The head maid paused briefly, then slowly gave a polite yet awkward smile.

"Master, I am not an omnipotent wish‑granting maiden."

"Alas!"

The desperate Floating Light elder sighed, thinking how he truly failed his grandfather; the family estate his elder painstakingly built was about to be squandered by his lazy descendant.

Sigh…

Wait, elder!

He burst out, rushed into the kitchen, ladled a huge pot of red vegetable soup, covered it with three layers of pancakes, and sprinted toward the basement.

Nobles' private dungeons are usually located beneath the castle, and since the Northward Squad, having suffered another disaster, decided to stay here for two days, a special prisoner was also transferred here.

He respectfully presented the meal, and Fuguang, without hesitation, regarded it as a great gift.

「Senior, I need your wisdom! 」

At that moment, Little Lion was reading by a lit magic lamp when he saw a pig rolling in with a pile of food, frightening him so much he almost threw the book away.

Seeing that he had a request of me and even brought food voluntarily, I had no choice but to put away this joke book called something like 'Great Sage's Diary'.

「All right, all right, stop kowtowing—hey, lift your head! Speak, what's your difficulty? 」

Fuguang hurriedly got up and gave the death knight a full rundown of this apocalyptic-level crisis.

Little Lion dipped a bite of biscuit into the thick soup, and after listening he wore a puzzled expression.

「That's it? 」

Fuguang froze.

「That's it! 」

「Oh dear…」

Little Lion leaned against the wall, his eyes filled with pity, as if looking at a fool.

「Marquis, isn't the solution to this problem obvious? How could you not see it? 」

「Um. 」

He glanced at the death knight sitting on the soft bed, and at the loose clothing hanging on his emaciated body, Fuguang thought, 'Surely he isn't asking me to sell my body?'

「Um, what you mean is…」

「Borrow! Don't you even have the cheek to ask for a loan? 」

Borrow... How could Fuguang not have thought of that? He instantly put on a pained expression.

「Senior, you don't know this…」

「Stop, stop, stop! I know you're afraid, you don't dare show weakness, so I didn't let you borrow money from the surrounding nobles. 」

Saying this, he reached up and pointed at the ceiling.

「Why don't you just borrow money from the archbishop and the princess? 」

「Ah?! 」

Upon hearing this, Fuguang's eyes almost popped out; he was shocked and lost color.

「You want me to go borrow... huh? 」

But just as he had started, he deflated like a punctured pufferfish.

— Exactly!

Seeing the Marquis quickly switch to an enlightened state, Little Lion couldn't help but start teaching.

「Marquis, you might not know, but when others can move you, borrowing money makes you a grandson; but when others cannot move you, borrowing money makes you the big boss! You think they've all returned to the royal capital and would still come over for such a small sum to accuse you? Impossible. 」

「Besides, whose deaths were your knights dying for? Fundamentally, weren't they dying to protect the princess? These are all loyal martyrs; for this pension, it's not too much for them to bear the bulk. 」

Good fellow, this isn't just light guidance, it's practically the Sunflower Acupuncture Hand!

The excited Fuguang was about to boast, when he suddenly heard the death knight ask another question.

「Besides, you borrowed their money; you definitely can't pay it back in the short term, right? 」

「That's for sure, senior! Even if I learned from others to ruthlessly squeeze the commoners' land, such a huge sum—how much profit could a bunch of miserable people squeeze out even if they broke their bones? I doubt I could scrape it up in three years. 」

「Isn't that just right then! 」

Little Lion clapped his hands with a smack.

「From now on, each winter or whenever you need to ask someone for help, go to the royal capital and the curia under the pretense of repaying the debt. 」

「Just say you're here to repay the money; surely they'll at least meet you? Then if you want to say a couple more words, won't they have to listen? 」

「With this back-and-forth, won't your connections be in the bag? 」

Saying this, Little Lion clapped his hands again.

「Think about it carefully—what big deal could you have? In the eyes of the bigwigs of the royal capital, maybe you wouldn't even need to speak; just a letter would settle it! 」

Smack!

This time it wasn't Little Lion clapping; it was Fuguang kneeling on the ground and kowtowing loudly.

「Senior! I kowtow in place of my father! Please become sworn brothers with my grandfather! 」

「??? 」

The vigorously gesturing Little Lion was frightened by this move to almost leap off the ground, thinking, 'You're not just climbing the pole; you're preparing to ride the pole to the moon and scrape someone's footprints!'

He quickly composed himself.

「No way, no way! Marquis, please get up; I was just saying something offhand, not necessarily feasible! 」

But this Fuguang is basically a human-shaped fat pig; even though his level was suppressed, he had to exert all his strength to barely help him up.

But even after being helped up, it only changed his kneeling salute to a bow.

「Benefactor, since you're unwilling, could you at least leave your name so I have something to remember? 」

「Um…」

Little Lion had already learned from Ji Ming that he might be the First Lionheart King, but he had never told anyone this secret.

After thinking it over, he broke into a grin.

「My name should be Giuseppe, right? 」

If it were five hundred years ago, this name would represent that human hegemon who cut down the holy tree, but five hundred years later…

「Oh oh, Giuseppe! I know that! I've heard that parents in the Deep Forest like to name their little boys Giuseppe, and even little girls might be called Giuseppina. 」

……

「Hehe, yeah. 」

Here Little Lion was advising Fuguang senior on how to turn danger into safety, while on the other side, the forest believers who had been suspicious and fearful yesterday had already begun their on-the-job training.

Yes, keep the magic output, but don't be too fierce; these are all fragile herbaceous plants, they can't withstand violent magic power to hasten maturity.

As for his first batch of followers, Ge Rui Sen still cared more, specially picking a good-looking treeman as an avatar to give personal instruction.

However, for those neurotics who were still chewing ambrosia and going crazy yesterday, the word 'gentle' seems somewhat too difficult.

So the wheat seedlings before them either turn into biting demon grass everywhere, or are outright burned to ash by excessive magic power input; the effect is quite poor.

That is, only Ge Rui Sen has that patience to continue teaching; otherwise, if switched to Bu Long Fei Er De, I guess Long Long would have already gone back to the attic to sleep pretending to be dead.

But since it's a 'class', no matter how many poor students there are, one can still produce a top student; thus, amidst the chaos, there remains a stalk of plump ripe wheat proudly shooting straight into the horizon.

... Well, this is underground, the horizon might not be reachable, so let's just manage to stick it into the ceiling.

Teacher Ge Rui Sen hurried over to start praising, and even organized a representative of the weak students to come over for observation and learning.

'You see, this sir has done quite well; everyone keep striving, you too can do it!'

Speaking of which, this top student is no one else—it's precisely that stubborn old man who previously had the hardest mouth, almost knocking himself unconscious to demonstrate his resolve.

And what caused him to prostrate himself in midair yesterday, his character setting collapsing, is none other than the crops before him—not just one or two stalks, but fields upon fields.