"Because this is a weapon from ten years ago."
Viktor used the Clavner family's first mass-produced firearm, the [Windhawk].
Without using special skills, the [Wind Eagle]'s attack power is only one hundred.
It's just the right shot to kill an ordinary person who hasn't leveled up.
Its health points are also exactly one hundred.
In such a situation, it would seem easy to kill an ordinary person with a single shot.
However, in a world full of magic and warriors, firearms cannot instantly kill high-level professionals.
Even a squishy mage should have several hundred health points by level 30.
Not to mention kingdoms dominated by warriors.
In fact, the Windhawk is already an advanced product that the Clavner family has modified.
The first generation of products from the early Raiser family couldn't even break through the basic defense of a second-tier warrior.
But these nuns, who were clergy, could not withstand a single shot.
They even deliberately let blood splatter to make their performances more realistic.
Only six people died, but the ground was almost flowing with blood.
Viktor said calmly, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
“I know your bishops, and I have met the original clergy.”
Clerics, as a profession dedicated to serving the divine, gain special powers from the gods through dedication.
As one of the few "benevolent" deities, the goddess of abundance has very few members in her church.
Ten years ago, when Victor first arrived in the kingdom, only two thousand people in the million-strong Shulbon worshipped the goddess of fertility.
But anyone who can become a follower of the Goddess of Abundance will certainly not be an ordinary person.
But becoming a follower of the Goddess of Fertility is no ordinary thing; each of them will receive a share of the Goddess of Fertility's divine power.
This can be seen from their ability to weave ears of wheat that possess abundant divine power.
Protected by divine power, they should not be harmed by such ordinary firearms.
Therefore, Victor's gaze fell once again on the "corpses" on the ground.
“Just now, I was giving you a chance to get up on your own.”
"But if you insist on being ungrateful..."
As he spoke, the gun in his hand disappeared as if it were a magic prop.
Instead, a mesmerizing tiny flame ignited at the fingertips, flickering gently and emitting a faint glow.
Although the flames were small in appearance, their abundant light and intense heat reverberated across the church walls.
It was like an angry lion, whose mere sparks could burn the entire place to ashes.
At that moment, the surge of light and heat caused the nuns present to change their expressions drastically.
"You, along with the blood in your bodies, will all be evaporated by me."
As the warning slowly fell, the corpse lying on the ground suddenly reacted.
Their eyes rolled back, and their fingers twitched like broken twigs.
The blood on the ground seemed to be awakened by the power of life, miraculously flowing upwards and being drawn back into their bodies drop by drop.
Then, each nun stood up in unison, and the bullet holes in their skulls miraculously healed.
They carefully gathered behind an older nun, heads bowed, and repeatedly apologized, their voices filled with remorse.
"I'm sorry, Elder."
"We were scared."
Out of fear, they could no longer lie on the ground pretending to be corpses.
The elders had clearly told them that if someone caused trouble and they were attacked, they should not fight back.
You can just lie on the ground and play dead.
But the flames dancing between Victor's fingers terrified them, fearing that their blood would truly evaporate.
For a vampire, that would mean true death.
Faced with this situation, the nun, who was respectfully addressed as an elder, simply shook her head and looked at Victor with a solemn expression.
"No, the fault does not lie with you."
"He's right, we still don't understand human beings."
In fact, her arrangements were quite thorough.
After all, such a realistic death scene would surely terrify most people, and they might even flee immediately.
Faced with such a scene, any intruder would instinctively flee.
As vampires, they are not as far from death as ordinary people perceive them to be.
Vampires are difficult to kill; they can be reborn even with only a drop of blood left.
Therefore, they find it difficult to express the panic they feel when someone around them suddenly dies.
Most importantly, none of them expected this.
The man in front of them had already figured out their identities.
At this moment, the elderly vampire elder protectively surrounded the other nuns behind him, his eyes fixed on Victor with a dangerous glint in them:
"Sir, who exactly are you?"
"And what is your purpose?"
Seeing this, Viktor put away the flame.
He ignored the gazes of those present, walked straight past them, and went to the deepest part of the church.
Then, he looked up at the benevolent statue of the goddess of abundance, and then his gaze moved down.
Until you see the marble hands on the statue's chest, tightly holding a golden ear of rice.
Viktor slowly reached out his hand and, in front of everyone, took the stalk of rice.
“That was, that was given to us by the bishop…”
Several nuns gasped, their mouths agape, about to speak.
Suddenly, the hazy surroundings made them freeze in place, their words fading in shock.
A surge of magic swirled around him, and the azure magic flowed through every vein in Victor's body.
As the magic overflowed, a wisp of eerie green and damp smoke rose from around the church.
Then, the smoke grew heavier and heavier until it completely enveloped the building.
Countless nuns stared in disbelief at the commotion unfolding around the church, their eyes wide with astonishment.
Even the elderly nun looked shocked and breathed heavily.
The smoke was torn open by the golden light, and the crack grew larger as the light spread.
Finally, a vast field of rice and wheat, stretching for thousands of miles and swaying with golden waves, suddenly appeared and settled where Victor was.
The rice ears in the wheat field swayed in the wind, radiating a sacred glow.
Viktor stood in the shimmering wheat field, without turning around, and gently placed the ears of rice in his hand back on the high platform.
The wheat fields seemed to glow even more vividly, and the rice stalks, as if hearing a call, gently swayed their robust forms.
Surrounded by this golden light, Victor calmly spoke:
“Go and tell your bishop.”
"Your godfather is back."
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