Chapter 144 Voice of the Heart
Crows circled in the skies above Baita Town. These scavenging birds were often seen as a symbol of impending death. Deep within Baita University, an unusually large crow with glossy feathers circled several times in the air before suddenly swooping down and expertly leaping onto Ole's outstretched arm. It delicately extended a claw, to which was attached a small cylindrical iron tube, barely discernible without close inspection.
Ole deftly removed the iron cylinder and pulled out a tightly rolled letter. The crow, having traveled all the way from the Kasa Strait, proudly held its head high, its small, black eyes darting at the people, awaiting the reward of a strip of meat. However, its owner's attention was elsewhere; he was busy scanning the wildly written letter. After a long pause, he knitted his brows and let out a deep breath.
“——Boss!”
Daniela's voice came from behind. Ole turned his head and saw the other party coming towards him mysteriously and handing him a few drawings with a bunch of messy lines drawn on them.
"...What is this?" Ole took it and looked at it, and couldn't help but twitching his mouth: the painting is really abstract.
"Based on the descriptions of local residents and a detailed map of Baita Town obtained through field research," the boy shrugged. "After all, we brothers aren't locals, so we need to be familiar with the geographical location before we can do anything."
"...Honestly, even with Shadow Chaser's help, do you really think this has a high chance of success?" Remembering the plan he'd excitedly shared with him earlier, Orel couldn't help but frown. "A group of ordinary people and low-level warlock warriors who were almost as ordinary as them, versus thirty elite judges of the Glowing Church who were at least junior apostles, and possibly even bishops of the Lord's Prayer level."
——The disparity is so huge, it’s like hitting a rock with an egg.
"Who knows?" Daniga stared at him seriously. "But if you don't do it, nothing will be successful."
"...Boss, I'm going to tell you something from the bottom of my heart. Please don't laugh at me." The young assassin grunted for a long time before finally spitting out the words through gritted teeth. "Before coming to White Tower Town, I had always secretly considered myself the hero described by the bards, the kind of chivalrous warrior who robs the rich to help the poor. The legendary hero—Boss, you're not laughing at me, are you?"
Suddenly realizing this statement seemed strangely familiar, Ole felt as if an arrow had pierced his chest. He glanced at the other person gloomily and asked, "Why would I laugh at you?"
"...Anyway, Pierce laughed at me for a full ten minutes after he found out." Daniga rubbed his nose and muttered angrily, "He's the one who hasn't grown up. Tsk, always sullen and full of resentment—"
"Honestly." The assassin leader couldn't help but remind him, signaling the other party to bring the increasingly irrelevant topic back.
"Oh, yes, that's what I was going to say." The young assassin scratched his head shyly. "But the more I stay in White Tower, the more I feel that the Shadow Chasers' previous actions were too simplistic and crude. Mr. Nova is right. This kind of organization, relying solely on a simple sense of justice and almost entirely on your own funds, is truly unsustainable."
"Can we really tolerate this kind of hiding for long, just based on 'justice'? What if someone tries to divide us, turning us against each other?" He spoke with a more serious expression. "Or if one day our people are arrested like the students at Baita University, will those townspeople we consider 'the saved' still speak out for us like they do now?"
Daniga couldn't help but think of the days when he had consulted with Mr. Nova alone.
At that time, he was just happy to think that his boss finally allowed him to contact the other party. As a result, he went in with a smile on his face and came out in a daze, almost hitting his head against the wall. The boss almost thought that Mr. Nova had done something to him and tried to rush over to blame him. Fortunately, he came to his senses and finally pulled himself back with great effort.
But in the final analysis, what he got from that gentleman was actually very simple: first, figure out who the enemy is and who the friend is - and then unite all the forces that can be united, so that the enemies become fewer and the friends become more.
"Although these ordinary people may seem weak individually, at least 75% of the people in Baita Town will be our strength. The remaining 15% who choose to play it safe will not deliberately cause trouble, and may even help us if victory is about to fall to our side."
Daniga's tone gradually grew more elated, as if he were giving a speech to the townspeople and the Shadow Chasers. "As for the Vatican? The nobles are standing idly by, the officials are vague, and they're practically fighting alone. With the constant pressure from outside, they're only becoming more and more desperate. So, the odds of victory are actually on our side."
The assassin leader snorted coldly: "Your eloquence is getting better and better."
He suddenly remembered the word the tyrant had mentioned. What was it called - "political commissar"?
"Actually, I guess you're also among that wavering 15 percent, Boss." Daniga suddenly chuckled. Seeing his boss glaring at him, he shrank his neck and said with a flattering smile, "Of course, Boss, you're the easiest to win over. I know you just want to see how far we can go without your intervention—"
Ole was silent for a moment, then suddenly tossed the narrow roll of letter paper into Daniga's arms. Seeing him frantically catch it, the assassin leader raised his chin and snorted arrogantly, "You're wrong, then. Not only did I contribute to that 75%, I also brought you at least 5% of support."
Daniga quickly opened the letter, while Ole stood aside, waiting reservedly for the cheers and admiring looks from his brothers. For a moment, his expression was exactly the same as that of the crow on his shoulder waiting for snacks. After a long time, the crow finally raised its head and slowly opened its mouth.
"...Um, Boss."
...Why does the tone seem wrong?
Daniga blinked sincerely and looked at him innocently: "What's written here? Is it a spell? Why can't I understand it?"
Ole: “…”
Damn it, he thought with annoyance, he forgot that the crooked handwriting of Marcyline, which the three of them regarded as a means of keeping secrets, was not understandable to everyone.
…
On the other hand, the Vatican's attention was not at all on the townspeople and students of Baita Town - even if they knew that this group of people were trying to cause trouble, they would just ignore them.
Pawanton Miller stared at the judge in front of him with a serious look. "Could you please explain what 'the death row prisoner is not in the Inquisition' means?"
The man respectfully repeated his unconvincing excuse of "fear of a prison break," and Miller slowly tightened his grip on his scepter. No matter how respectful the man was, it couldn't change the fact that he was a subordinate of Dante Matthews. In recent years, with the God of Light's descent becoming less frequent and shorter, and especially after the failure of the plan to select the "Chosen One" for the God of Light, the voices of the "Sacrificial Faction" within the Church of Radiance have once again grown stronger.
Those lunatics were obsessed with "resurrecting the gods" through various sacrificial activities. If they failed, it was because the sacrifices were not sacred enough and the sacrificial methods were not pious enough.
But with the "Sons of Life" group of cultists as a cover, the top leaders of the Vatican actually condoned their existence - after all, those "Sons of Life" did obtain healing abilities far beyond those of ordinary believers through various bloody sacrifices, and maybe one day they could really achieve some results.
Pavaton Miller, who bore the seal of the God of Light and had once been possessed by him, scoffed at this. Because of the seal, he had always been regarded by the Vatican's high officials as a beloved son of light. Even the Pope held this youngest cardinal in high esteem. But why should those arrogant and unbridled gods be allowed to return to this world that now belonged to mankind in such an unrivaled and powerful state?
Gods without restraints are the most brutal slave owners in the world, and humans who are unable to resist them are their humble and insignificant slaves.
As the power of warlocks waned, the gods still needed to exist; this was the meaning of the Chosen Ones—but in Pavaton Miller's view, those gods could never truly be resurrected. Of course, if one could discover how they became gods, these old gods would lose their usefulness.
But now the Storm God Utoska is suspected to have been successfully resurrected, and the only restraint on him is actually just a fragile ordinary human, who is also the chosen one of the Goddess of Love Analene.
...What a mess!
The idiot Dante Matthews was still eager to compete with him and hid the person. Miller knew with his toes that the crazy people of the Sacrifice Sect were trying to force out the secret of the gods' resurrection as soon as possible, and then welcome those tyrannical gods back to the world with joy.
Pavard Miller stroked the scepter and lowered his head slightly.
He never wore low-necked clothes and always wrapped his neck carefully - at this moment, the divine mark on the vital part of his neck was slightly hot, like a brand left on a slave's body after being burned - but this level of warning was only a silent urging. When the god was truly angry at his disobedient slave, he could only roll on the ground in agony, tears streaming down his face, and humbly begging for forgiveness, like a howling dog.
...How ridiculous, how pathetic. For a Glowing Knight who considered "glory" his life, this humiliation was more painful than killing him.
Looking at the judge in front of him who already had a look of trepidation on his face, "Dustless Light" sighed softly and said kindly that he could understand Bishop Matthews's concerns, and that everything had the will of light - yes, the will of light.
The cardinal smiled and turned away.
Whether it was due to the urging of the God of Light or his own ulterior motive of rebellion, he had to find the young man as soon as possible.
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