The Demon King is unfathomable

Chapter 441 The Sword Saint from Huangtong Pass
"It's time to do something!"

The morning sunlight pierced through the thin morning mist, illuminating the muddy dirt road outside Maitian Village, awakening the busy footprints and the fragrance of the earth.

Standing on the muddy dirt road, a skull carrying a shovel made a crunching sound from its mouth. The soul fire burning inside its skull looked at the open space by the river not far away, its heart filled with ambition.

His nickname is "both rustic and dull," indicating he's a newbie who recently joined the game. It's not hard to guess what he does in real life; he's definitely not in civil engineering, otherwise he wouldn't have so much time to spend in the virtual world.

But that's not the point.

The key point is that after arriving in Wheat Field Village, his eighteen martial arts skills, which he had learned through years of hard study, finally found a use!

The talent-rich "Earth Online" doesn't need another civil engineering dog, but this village in front of us, which is in dire need of rebuilding, clearly needs one!
Standing next to him, "Cowardly Yet Resilient" also wore an expression of boundless ambition, an expression that only the skeleton soldiers could understand.

"I think this is the place!" He dug a shovelful with his spade and said with great interest, looking at the mud he had dug out. "The soil here has a good clay content and low sand content, so it's not very suitable for growing crops, but it's perfect for making bricks!"

"And getting water is convenient! It's close to the main road at the village entrance, and it's downwind!" [Simple and unsophisticated] chuckled, his eyes shining as he continued, "Let's start the second phase of our 'Wheat Field Village Reconstruction Plan' with this brick kiln!"

That wasn't the Demon King's plan, but rather a plan he and his best friend had together!
It is said that when North Peak City and Thunder City were carrying out large-scale infrastructure construction, many professional players made a fortune, and they are eager to replicate the success of their predecessors.

Although Maitian Village is not as prosperous as those places, it has great potential.

Unlike outsiders who react as if they've seen a ghost when they see an undead, the NPCs here are very receptive to all sorts of new things. They're even more flexible and adaptable than the lizardmen of the Gana Continent. This place might just be the second important stronghold after North Peak City!

As for the local tradition of building houses with wood...

Once they've seen the benefits of bricks, they certainly won't object to living in a warmer and sturdier house!

Two skeleton soldiers carrying shovels were discussing something with a creaking sound, their preparatory postures suggesting they were planning for the distant future of Wheat Field Village.

They even planned out where to build the train station and where the railway would pass through... even though those things were several eras removed from the land beneath their feet.

An elderly villager carrying a bundle of firewood walked by happily.

He saw the two skeletons carrying shovels, but his face showed no fear. Instead, he waved to them as if he were seeing his father who had passed away many years ago.

"Good morning, Holy Spirits! Although we don't know whose ancestors you are, thanks to you, we can finally get a good night's sleep!"

"Please give my regards to my father and tell him that his son is doing well, so he doesn't need to worry about us, and he doesn't need to come back to see us..."

It wasn't that he didn't want to see his father, but he didn't want the old man, who had finally settled down to sleep, to get up from the fields and start working again.

Although these holy beings themselves seemed oblivious, even appearing to enjoy it, it didn't stop him from feeling that they were working hard.

The discussion between the two skeleton soldiers came to an abrupt end.

Although they could not respond to the villagers with words, nor could they understand what the villagers were saying, they all waved their pale arms in a friendly manner.

"Got a mission, buddy?"

'No? Damn! Goodbye then.'

Both sides replied without reading the message, and the villagers smiled contentedly, carrying the blessings of their ancestors as they walked briskly towards the village.

Unbeknownst to anyone, in the nearby forest, a pair of sharp eyes were taking in everything, and the hand gripping the hilt of the greatsword slowly loosened its hold.

……

Unlike the bloodshed and death on the eastern edge of Duskwood, the tranquil Wheatfield Village is like an isolated island, detached from the storm.

This place is like a unique miracle; there is no hunger, no death.

If it weren't for those few lonely ruins reminding people of what once happened here, the famine that once lingered over this land would seem as if it never existed.

On land just across the road from the ruins, rows of newly built wooden houses are scattered in an orderly fashion and are steadily expanding into more distant areas.

What Gunter found even more incredible was the endless wheat field outside the village, where glistening dewdrops clung to the verdant wheat seedlings, brimming with vitality.

The air was filled with the fragrance of damp earth, and wisps of smoke could be faintly seen in the distance, all seemingly proclaiming that this land was emerging from its past sorrow.

Everywhere you look, there is a scene of peace and tranquility...

"Is this... still the Province of Twilight?"

Following behind Gunter's tall figure, Yurien's face was filled with disbelief, his clenched palms were sweaty, and he couldn't help but wonder if he had come to heaven.

He was an orphan that Gaunt picked up from Graystone Town. He traveled with Gaunt along the way, learning survival skills and swordsmanship, fighting monsters and bandits... although Gaunt did the fighting most of the time.

Along the way, he saw many villages destroyed by war and famine, but this was the first time he had ever seen such a completely different scene.

Those youthful eyes held both restraint and timidity, as well as curiosity and longing, like a mud-covered child who had wandered into the garden of a wealthy neighbor, afraid of messing up the fence.

Gunter, walking ahead, didn't react much, merely casually observing his surroundings. His expressionless face seemed calm, but his heart was in turmoil.

Everything he saw was the complete opposite of the hellish scenes he had witnessed in the Twilight Province—people were working, talking, and even laughing.

If he hadn't been absolutely confident in his own strength, he would have almost suspected that he had entered the realm of another demigod, or that it was an illusion spell cast by a mage of the level of a great sage.

This is incredible!
It's not just the things here, but also the people.

In most kingdoms outside the empire, soldiers were a privileged class separate from ordinary serfs. They also had their own "honor" or "pride," and they might put on a show for their lord's orders, but they would never live and eat with the lord's serfs, or even build houses and do farm work together, as they did in this village.

He didn't know what the lord here had done, but the scene that unfolded before his eyes was enough to be called a miracle...

“This is undoubtedly still the province of Twilight,” Gunter glanced around, paused, and continued, “but perhaps something has happened that we don’t know about.”

Euryn swallowed hard and looked at Gaunt with excitement.

"Has the famine... ended?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

Gaunt didn't say much, but silently continued walking forward, with Euryn following closely behind him as they entered the village.

Just then, Gunter, who was looking around, suddenly noticed an old farmer humming an off-key tune as he tilled the vegetable garden enclosed by a fence with a hoe.

He stepped forward and spoke in a hoarse voice.

"Excuse me, what place is this? Which lord rules it?"

Upon hearing this, the old farmer stopped what he was doing, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and looked at the man carrying the giant sword, grinning as he spoke.

"Lord? Haha! You must be a stranger visiting Wheatfield Village for the first time. What lord are you talking about here?"

Gunter paused for a moment, looked at the wheat field not far away, and then cast a puzzled look at the farmer.

At least in his memory, only lords would grow so much wheat. Ordinary free people, even if they had land, could not usually get such high-quality land, let alone organize a large-scale planting effort.

Is this a parish?
But he didn't see the church or the priests.

"There is no lord..."

“If you’re talking about that coward Theron Gard, he would have run away from the castle with his tail between his legs long ago!” Old Hank grinned, a mocking smile spreading across his face, but it soon turned into pride. “Things are different now. The Saviors have saved this place.”

"...The Salvation Army?"

“That’s right! They are Her Highness’s followers! They uphold the tenets of loyalty and piety, and the swords in their hands are not loyal to any worldly lord, but only to the Book of the Holy Word and all people under the protection of the Holy Light!”

At this point, old Hank proudly puffed out his chest and, with the air of someone who had been there before, began to recount what had happened here to the mercenary-looking man in front of him.

When Gaunt first heard the part about the Green Forest Army, he instinctively clenched his fists, and Euryn behind him also showed a look of fear on his face.

However, soon, as Her Highness the Holy Maiden walked from the rushing river, the story of despair took on another form, like an incredible miracle.

"...Her Highness the Holy Maiden came from the River Bend, bringing bread and holy light! The rebels were the first to be moved by her; they removed their headscarves, repented, and suddenly began to uphold the sacred teachings and help us!"

“By Saint Sith… Thinking back to that day, it still feels like a dream! Then there was the Earl of Sparrowwood Castle. Perhaps feeling that continuing to defend it would only lead to certain death, he made a deal with the Saintess, ceded the castle to her, and then slunk away with his family!”

Gaunt looked at the old farmer who kept praising "the saintess's kindness," his face full of surprise. Especially when he heard the part about the count, he asked in a deep voice.

"he's gone?"

Old Hank said with a smile.

"Yes, I heard he said something harsh and then left! Apparently he went to Twilight City, but I heard from the citizens who came from Twilight City that the situation there is pretty bad too! You can't buy food even if you have money, all the grain has been taken away by the governor... If you're curious, you can ask Anthony, he's the carpenter in the village, he lives by the river now, you can find him by following the smell of sawdust!"

The old farmer didn't seem to want to say much about the affairs of Twilight City. After only a few words, the topic returned to Her Highness the Holy Maiden.

After all, he had never been to Twilight City, nor had he ever met the governor, but he had indeed seen the saint walking among the crowd and had seen her give blessings to many newlyweds.

Even the nuns of Sparrowwood Castle were not as approachable as her. Although she was old enough to be his daughter, she reminded him of his deceased mother.

Old Hank talked a lot more than he expected, including about the land distribution and the series of reforms implemented by the Salvation Army in Sparrowwood Territory.

He didn't understand those complicated things, but he could tell right from wrong. He would support whoever could feed him to become a lord.

Regardless of whether the lord is called a lord or not.

From Gaunt's perspective as a devout Rhodesian, this "no ruler, no subjects" rhetoric is undoubtedly treasonous, and it would not be an exaggeration to call it heresy.

However, after meeting the real heretics, he felt that although they were a bit foolish, they weren't so bad.

At least they were full, and their bowls were not filled with their compatriots; their hearts were still filled with faith in the Holy Light.

Such chaotic corruption cannot penetrate this place. Even if they are heretics who need correction, it is not an urgent matter and can be put off for later...

Gaunt didn't intend to comment on the saintess and holy light the old farmer spoke of. Instead, he pointed to a few skeleton soldiers not far away who were "communicating" with their bone heads and asked the last question that had been bothering him.

"What about those undead? Are they... also part of the Salvation Army?"

Old Hank seemed to have anticipated the stranger's question, and a mysterious smile appeared on his face, as if he had finally been discovered after keeping someone in suspense for so long.

"Look at you, so ignorant! That's not a spirit of the dead, it's a Holy Spirit!"

Am I ignorant?

Gunter was stunned, deeply shocked.

He never imagined that after traveling all over the country and leaving behind a legendary epic, he would one day be called ignorant.

But thinking about it carefully, he really had never seen such a capable undead before; this was an exception in his adventuring career...

"What is the Holy Spirit?" He finally put aside his pride as a sword saint and humbly asked the old farmer in front of him.

“They are our ancestors!” Old Hank chuckled, looking at the mercenary before him. “To tell you the truth, my grandfather… is another Old Hank, and he might be in there too! They couldn’t bear to see the children suffer, so they prayed to Saint Sith to bring them back to life to help us rebuild our homes! It’s said that once our village is built, Saint Sith’s messengers will take them away… But honestly, I really can’t bear to part with them!”

As he spoke, he pointed to the skeleton carrying bricks not far away.

“Look at them, how hard they work! They don’t rest all day long, they’re much better than us living people! Praise be to my ancestors!” Hearing this, Gunter couldn’t help but recall the ghosts he had seen at the village entrance.

The soul fire burning within their skulls was indeed more complete than that of ordinary wandering ghosts, and there was no trace of chaos or evil.

Clearly, they are not controlled by necromancers, but act according to their own will.

As for why their souls are so intact... it can only be explained by the theory sent by Saint Sith.

This is something that magic can't do.

Based on all these clues, Gunter reluctantly came to a conclusion that he could accept—these spirits were indeed different from the spirits he knew.

He was also extremely glad that he hadn't acted rashly, otherwise it would have been a case of good intentions gone wrong, and he really didn't know how to explain it to the villagers.

Yurien, standing next to Gaunt, was equally shocked, but he was much more accepting of it than Gaunt, who was standing in front of him.

He hadn't been to as many places as Gaunt had, and this was even the first time he had left Greystone Town to go to Sparrowwood Territory on the outskirts of Twilight City.

Perhaps, this is what the undead outside Graystone Town are like.

At least the spirits of the dead in Wheatfield Village... oh no, the Holy Spirits are like that!

"Judging from your appearance, you must have come from a very far place?" Seeing that the stranger didn't respond to his question, Old Hank continued enthusiastically, "By the way, my name is Hank, everyone calls me Old Hank. I haven't asked your name yet, so I don't know what your name is?"

Gaunt glanced at Euryn beside him, who was curiously looking around, and answered succinctly.

"My name is Gaunt, and I'm a mercenary. Currently... I'm wandering around with my adopted son. We're looking for a place here to stock up on some food and water, and maybe we'll head to Twilight City next."

"Mercenaries..." Old Hank scratched his head, somewhat embarrassed, and said, "Buying things will be difficult. We've just settled down here, and there aren't any merchants around. But we do have food..."

As he spoke, he enthusiastically pointed to the other side of the village, in the direction where the smoke from the chimneys was rising.

"It's over there! That's the Salvation Army's porridge distribution point! Her Majesty said that anyone who's hungry can go there and get a bowl of hot porridge! You should hurry up and go too, everyone's almost finished eating, it'll get cold if you go too late!"

Gunther nodded, thanked the old farmer named Old Hank again, and then led Euryn toward the porridge distribution point.

Just as old Hank said, the place was deserted, with only a short queue remaining, and the firewood for cooking porridge had been removed.

However, this does not affect anything.

When he and Euryn received their food, the porridge in their bowls was still warm, even a little hot to the touch.

The Salvation Army soldiers were kind and did not treat them harshly just because they were new faces. They even smiled and added an extra spoonful to Euryn's bowl.

"Young man, you're quite strong. Eat more."

"Thank you!"

"No need to thank me, just thank Her Highness the Holy Maiden and the Divine Child! By the way, is that your father next to you? That big guy with the sword on his back, you two don't look like him."

Yurien said, blushing.

"He is my godfather and my mentor!"

"Haha," the soldier in charge of the ladle chuckled, glancing at the sword on the big man's back, and teased, "Then you've got a lot to learn."

That sword might be much heavier than this young man himself.

Gaunt didn't say anything, just nodded his thanks, and then led Euryn to a place where it wouldn't get in the way.

Euryn was starving and wolfed down his food from the bowl.

Lately, he has been eating wild fruits and animals from the forest. Although he is not lacking in nutrition, porridge is still more suitable for his stomach.

Meanwhile, Gunter sipped his drink slowly, quietly observing his surroundings to confirm whether the situation was as old Hank had described.

The villagers' serene expressions and the soldiers' astonishing discipline made it all seem real. Although the source of their food was unknown, there was certainly no hint of evil in the porridge.

Although he did not understand the truth about the "Holy Spirit," he could distinguish between good and bad.

Regardless of who that "saint" is, or whether she was sent by Saint Sith, what she is doing is by no means a bad thing...

I have no obligation to uphold justice for the Vatican.

That's a matter for the court.

Just as Gaunt was pondering this, a Salvation Army soldier in charge of registration approached. Seeing that Gaunt and Euryn had finished their porridge, he smiled and spoke.

"Excuse me, buddy, the guy who was serving the porridge just now forgot the procedure."

"Do you need to pay?" Gunter wiped his mouth and took out his money pouch, but the soldier hurriedly waved his hand to signal him to stop.

"No, buddy, that's not what I meant. We don't want money... I meant registration! You know? We need your name and the name of your hometown."

“I don’t quite understand. Could you explain it to me?” Gaunt put away his money pouch and asked the soldier.

The soldier said with a smile.

"This is mainly for easier management. After all, there are so many people here, and we have to be careful that rebels or lords' men don't infiltrate and cause trouble. Besides... registering won't be a bad thing for you either. Many people have found their relatives or fellow villagers here."

Gaunt glanced at him and thought it made sense, so he casually said, "My name is Gaunt, and this is my adopted son, Euryn. We come from Graystone Town."

In the eastern region of the continent of Os, from the northern part of the Kingdom of Rhodes to the Twilight Forest of the Kingdom of Ryan, Gunter is a common name, just like Hank, Anthony, and so on.

He didn't mention his surname, partly because he didn't want people to know his identity, and partly because it would be too troublesome to explain.

"Greystone Town?" The soldier looked surprised. "Isn't that at the easternmost edge of the province? I heard it's almost on the dwarf territory! Your Majesty, you actually came all this way! How is the situation there now?"

Most of the previous refugees came from the vicinity of Quemu Territory, but this fellow is probably from the farthest place!

Gunter answered calmly.

"That place has been destroyed."

Malachi, the "Butcher" of the Green Forest Army—a devil who sold his soul to Chaos and exchanged the blood of his kin for power.

Of course, that guy had already been killed by him.

Sooner or later he will find all these villains and kill them all!
The soldier's surprise turned into sympathy.

He didn't ask any more questions, but silently recorded it in the register. Then he took two small wooden plaques, carved their names and numbers with a knife, and handed them to them.

Looking at the wooden plaque in his hand, Euryn had a look of surprise on his face, while Gaunt's expression was somewhat intriguing.

He remembered that only the Adventurers' Guild would do such troublesome things, and that was a very, very long time ago for him.

"Please keep this safe. It's your identification tag. You can use it to collect your porridge tomorrow." The soldier paused, then asked, "By the way, what can you do? I mean, do you have any skills? If not, that's fine too. You seem quite strong; you shouldn't have trouble finding work."

Gunter shook his head.

"I don't know, I haven't decided whether I want to stay or not."

“I suggest you make a decision as soon as possible,” the soldier said earnestly. “This is related to the distribution of land, and even more so to your ability to live a better life as soon as possible! The Holy Maiden said that anyone who is willing to contribute to the village will be allocated a share of land. I can tell you’ve been a mercenary before, and must have traveled to many places. How about… uh, how about opening an inn? The village is in dire need of that right now.”

He came up with the idea on the spur of the moment. It was said that dwarves would be coming to inspect the timber business soon, and the centurion was worried about where to find them a place to stay.

Gunter was slightly taken aback. He hadn't expected that he, an outsider, would be allocated land, and he certainly hadn't expected that the other party would suggest that he, a sword saint, should open a hotel.

Of course, the young man obviously didn't know he was the Sword Saint; Günter Steinggraber's reputation wasn't as widespread as that of the "Rock Sword Saint."

He glanced at Euryn beside him, whose eyes were full of expectation, and couldn't help but think of the old man who died in Graystone Town. It was because of the piece of bread he had left behind that Euryn had lost his only relative... Even though it wasn't his intention, this guilt had always weighed on his heart.

He wanted to find a home for the child.

If this place is really as good as that old farmer said, then staying here wouldn't hurt.

Moreover, the hotel is a good place to gather intelligence, which is much better than wandering around the forest like a headless fly.

Everyone he met claimed to have seen the "green turban" and confidently gave him directions, but when he went to find it, he discovered that it was all outdated information.

Thinking of this, Gunter nodded.

"...I can give it a try."

Upon hearing this, Euryn's eyes lit up instantly, and his face shone with anticipation.

After the soldiers who registered them left, he clenched his fists excitedly and couldn't help but imagine the future.

"Master, how about we open an inn at the village entrance? We can build a stable! And raise a guard dog! I'll take care of cleaning and cooking, and you can be the manager!"

Finally, I don't have to wander around anymore!

Although he didn't dislike wandering around with his master, he still longed for a home and to return to his previous peaceful life.

Yurien was just a fourteen or fifteen-year-old boy from a remote border town. He only knew that the Sword Saint was very strong, but he didn't know what that title meant.

He carries not only the legend of the Sword Saint, but also the responsibility and hope befitting the name of a hero.

He was destined not to stay in one place.

Looking at the eloquent Euryen, a rare gentle smile appeared on Gaunt's rock-solid face.

"As long as you like it."

Euryn's excitement suddenly stopped. He looked at Gaunt cautiously and asked in a low voice, "Master... don't you like it?"

He felt that there was a hint of parting in those words.

Gunter paused for a moment, looked at the towering mountain range in the distance, and slowly spoke.

“I can’t say I like or dislike anything, it’s just that I rarely stay in one place for long. Whenever I have free time, there’s always someone who needs my help. Besides, the Copper Pass needs me right now, and I came to Twilight Province just to deal with the corruption of Chaos.”

Yurian replied without hesitation, "I can go there with you! After the chaos here is over!"

“But I want you to stay in a safe place,” Gaunt said earnestly, turning his gaze to his only disciple and nominal heir, “at least until you become a swordsman who can stand on his own.”

He did not reveal his dream of "proving the way with the sword," nor did he say that he was doing it for the fate of all mankind, or for Saint Sith or any other grandiose claims.

He simply reached out his rough, large hand like a father and patted Euryn on the back of the head, a rare gentle smile appearing on his resolute face.

"Don't make it sound like I'm about to abandon you. I plan to stay here for a while and find a way to solve the chaos corruption."

"As for what happens in the future, we'll talk about that later."

(End of this chapter)