"Pfft!"
Flames burned, sweeping across the undulating rice paddies.
The dry, cold wind blew against my face, and there was a faint smell of burning in the air. The once lush and green land had been turned into post-war wasteland.
The warriors, driven to madness, fought fiercely, leaving behind severed limbs, corpses, and human bones scattered across most of the rice paddies.
Wearing a tattered priest's robe, the aged-looking Fei Lan looked down upon this hell on earth.
He landed and strolled around.
As far as the eye could see, the landscape stretched into the distance, a vast expanse of ruined villages, revelry wastelands, charred forests, and the remains of corpses engulfed in flames, receding into the distance. Similar scenes appeared repeatedly throughout the long journey.
When a town that would be a turning point in his life appeared, Ferran stopped, a complex expression on his face.
This place, near a lake, is lush with aquatic plants. Through the hard work of generations, many windmills have been built here for grinding flour, which often attracts merchants from other cities to come and process raw materials. As a commercial transit point, it has promoted the prosperity of the local area.
But at this time, the once peaceful and prosperous town was captured by the army. The flames of war engulfed most of the houses, which were burning fiercely. Even the town's iconic windmill was dismantled and used as material for military equipment.
"Kill them! All the wealth is ours!"
"Hahaha, hahaha!"
"Kill the men directly, and as for the women... hehe, drag them out and lock them up together!"
The bandits and robbers who were raiding the town roared and shouted, their eyes bloodshot.
A large number of men were killed and fell into pools of blood. A small group of women and girls were dragged out, their clothes and skirts still on, crying and struggling desperately.
"We're in for some fun tonight! Just remember not to kill them."
"Leave a few virgins behind, and send them to the Marquis's mansion after the deed is done..."
"Damn it! That young girl is just what the Marquis wants, and you dare touch her? Are you looking for death?!"
"Oh no! People from the Divine Court have arrived! Hurry!"
"Those hypocritical, meddling Divine Court officials again? Forget it, let them go. Pick a few good-looking ones and let's go."
After looting, the bandits returned home laden with their goods to the knightly order they were traveling with.
Under Ferran's calm gaze, they changed into knightly attire, longswords at their waists, and light armor, pulling wagons carrying slaves as they embarked on their journey home.
Soon, a group of priests from the Holy See, protected by knights of the faith, arrived in the ravaged town to offer comfort and solace.
The Harvest Divine Court is a neutral force struggling to survive among the three major duchies.
Even in its decline, it still wields a profound influence. The Duchy doesn't want to test how many hidden cards the Divine Court has up its sleeve, and sometimes, there are even some decent cooperative relationships.
"My lord, my lord, we beg for forgiveness and atonement."
The trembling commoners knelt on the ground. Cowardly and ignorant, they dared not stand up even when their wives and daughters were bullied to their faces. They dared not seek revenge against the bandits and could only hope for the forgiveness of the divine court to give themselves psychological comfort.
After all, the real men who fought bravely and resisted fiercely were all killed by the bandits.
“Foolish people, your ancestors betrayed the gods and were sinners, which led to this disaster.”
"But our Lord is merciful and kind-hearted, and is willing to give you the opportunity to regain your faith..."
The old priest began, "Brainwash these people and collect their faith power."
His kind face brought them some comfort and gave them hope to live on.
Or rather, it's about using the priest's hand to lessen one's inner guilt and find an excuse to escape reality.
When it comes to his own life, he doesn't even want to care about his wife and daughters who have been enslaved.
Fei Lan watched quietly as he slowly walked through the crowd, eventually arriving at a slum.
The arrival of the divine court was like a helping hand, and some children were crying.
"dad!"
The short-haired boy gritted his teeth, tears welling in his eyes.
He hid and witnessed his cowardly father kneeling before the bandits, begging for mercy, being stabbed through the heart with a dagger, and his body being thrown into the stable.
Fei Lan's gaze was vacant, but then regained some clarity.
As if anticipating something, he felt a pang of pain in his heart, turned around, slightly raised his head, and gazed at the end of the street.
A group of priests approached, along with some nuns who, with the man's consent, agreed to entrust their child to the priesthood for upbringing, paying a fee periodically in exchange for the right to pray and atone for their sins.
"Little lost lamb, I am the nun sent by Arthas. May the light of God guide you to the right path."
Meeting the boy's confused gaze, the nun smiled gently: "Of course, since you're so young, you can call me 'sister'."
The boy remained silent, head bowed, lost in the grief of losing both his parents.
The nun was young, but she had a heart that cared for others.
"From now on, I will take care of you."
The nun embraced him and said gently, "My name is Christy, and from now on, I'll be your sister."
The boy looked up, staring blankly at the nun, a faint glimmer of light flickering within him.
...
"Good heavens, to achieve such a strong resonance with our Lord during the divinely bestowed ceremony!"
"A divine son! If he were in the Central Plains, with divine power, he would surely be a divine son!"
"Good! The future of our Divine Court has gained another pillar!"
On the main seat, the priests gazed at the boy on the altar, his dark heart radiating a seven-colored halo, and felt greatly inspired.
This matter alarmed the old bishop who was in seclusion.
The ability to attract the attention of the god of harvest is no less valuable than a divine oracle.
"Good child, what's your name?"
The old bishop, dressed in a white robe, landed beside the boy and excitedly took his hand.
"I...I..."
The boy looked bewildered and somewhat nervous, his eyes darting downwards as if searching for something.
A gentle woman caught his eye. She raised her small fist and gave him an encouraging smile, which warmed the boy's heart.
“Your Excellency, my name is Fe...Fei Lan.”
"Okay, Fei Lan, from now on, you will be my successor."
The old bishop stroked his gray beard, met the astonished looks of the priests, and smiled with satisfaction: "Young man, the revival of the Divine Court is entrusted to you."
...
"I wonder what talent our Lord has bestowed upon Prince Ferran?"
"Didn't you know? It was confirmed a few days ago that it's a useless talent for cultivating plants..."
"Ah, this..."
"A talent for cultivating crops? How is this any different from that of low-ranking priests and farmers!"
"This...sigh, because of that kid, His Holiness the Bishop has wasted a lot of rare materials. More than 30% of the resources we receive each week have been used on him!"
"Damn it! I thought he was something special, but he's just a piece of trash."
"You can't say that. He improved rice varieties and increased yields, which did help some refugees...sigh..."
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