Brain bloom

Previously, she couldn't use her power so freely.

"Aunt Fernanda, are you here to collect a thank-you gift too?"

“Hmm.” Facing Yuan, Fernanda became more reserved, revealing an unusual gentleness. “Since Sen has already taken the reward, he should give me the heart of the Dragon of Truth. Ron Stolt promised it.”

"Eh..." came the embarrassed sound from his mouth.

Melia sensed something was amiss and immediately wanted to step in to ease the tension between Mori and Fernanda. But Mori simply patted her head and stepped out of her protection.

Then raise that heart high.

Fernanda burst out laughing: "...Sen, you're so naughty."

"You know what I want."

"Want to have a good fight with me? Come on." Fernanda seemed to want to open her eyes. "Perfect timing. I haven't had a chance to unleash the fate magic I've been brewing. And rightly so, our karmic entanglement began over a hundred years ago. It's time to settle it!"

Mori quickly waved his hands: "No, no, no, I don't want to fight you, I just want the cloak."

"...Huh?" she exclaimed in disbelief. "You really want it that badly, you even gave up the chance to pick any item from the Ancient Demon King's treasury?!"

"Besides that, I also need your and Melia's help."

"……help?"

"Hey, what does Dad want me to do? Just tell me directly, why are you making things complicated?"

Mori firmly stated his request: "I am about to face a terrible battle, and when that happens, I will need you to stand by my side."

……

(ps.)

Although we were quite reluctant to give it up and even considered finding some more content to write for another month of perfect attendance, it was clear that everyone was getting a bit tired of it.

So, this book is almost finished...

Well, let Moon Raven take care of the final enemy in a clean and satisfying way!

Volume 1, Chapter 401: Blasphemy

Religion is always an extremely complex system. Whether it is an evil god who controls everything through tradition and tyranny, or a coffin-carrying system that shakes and maintains everything through the power of money, there will always be all sorts of problems within it.

It's just that it's been exposed, or it hasn't developed to the point where it can be exposed yet.

Heresy, blasphemy, and anti-theism have long plagued the Kingdom of the Holy Coffin. Even though on the surface, the power of money makes everything seem so glamorous, and indeed, the wealth and happiness of its people far surpass those of other countries in the human world, to them, whose true God is irrefutable, even the slightest flaw is a disgrace to their religion.

This excessively extreme suppression has only made some unspeakable ugly behaviors even more terrifying.

In particular—the news that the true God truly exists and has manifested has already spread throughout the world. Many twisted individuals have already entertained wicked thoughts.

Where there is light, there must be darkness.

Now, darkness, with its heavy footsteps, has arrived in the Kingdom of the Holy Coffin.

The capital of the Holy Coffin Kingdom, apart from some civilian residential areas, did not have any slums with terrible conditions. Even so, there were still places where filth could accumulate, such as spacious, clean sewers that always ensured that heavy rains could be drained away smoothly.

Normal people living in the holy land would not be forced to live in the sewers because of housing or poverty. Therefore, it has been developed into an invitation-only, strange place by a very small number of people with ulterior motives, often referred to as the black market.

The items circulating were mainly those related to the anti-coffin movement, which had a blasphemous connotation.

A man, his gleaming deerskin boots gleaming, stepped into the filthy sewers. The dark, moss-covered plants, the rats with skin diseases, and the strange insects were all overwhelmed by the man's imposing presence.

The people coming and going in the sewers are all people of different backgrounds. When pairs of eyes swept over the man's face, they were always particularly surprised, because this guy didn't make any disguise at all and just swaggered in.

On his waist, the strange weapon was engraved with various twisted symbols, and its deep color, often soaked in the blood of his prey, directly revealed who this guy was—the famous adventurer ranked fourteenth, Blood Tea Cup.

Blood Tea Cup was like someone browsing a vegetable market, his gaze sweeping over one black market seller after another, as if he could tell what they were selling just by looking at their faces.

Psychedelic rose quartz? Boring stuff.

Is this sand grass that can only be chewed, and swallowing it would surely lead to death? It's a pity it's not very fresh.

A black crystal necklace with holy letters strung together, an anti-religious design? Too flashy.

A terrible novel with a coffin-bearer theme? Only a third-rate author.

Everything he sold was mocked by Blood Tea Cup. His strength and reputation preceded him, and every stall owner, seeing his mocking expression, could only remain silent. If this weren't a black market, they could report him to the Knights for arrest; unfortunately, here, strength reigns supreme.

The blood-red teacup is searching for something.

Something that could truly defile and insult the entire Holy Coffin Kingdom, something that could even anger the true god. It should be here… he hoped. If not, he would have to cross the sea to the seemingly revived Silvermoon City; perhaps he could find it there.

Just as he was contemplating his disappointment and tightening his trench coat in frustration, a timid stall owner suddenly made eye contact with him. An interesting thought arose in Blood Tea Cup's mind, because he had found it.

Ignoring everyone's gaze, he strode over and deftly picked up a bag, weighing it in his hands. Each gentle toss and drop produced a mesmerizing clinking sound of the gold coins inside. His hands, like those used to dismember corpses, were graceful and slender, as if by magic. Each coin, silently held between his index and middle fingers, moved with captivating charm.

"You know what? Tomorrow, the Holy Land is hosting a big event."

Upon arriving here, the Blood Tea Cup spoke for the first time. The texture of its sound was extremely unique, like fingers gently caressing blue velvet, a slight itch, full of a fleeting, dreamlike quality.

Compared to him, this stall owner seemed even more clumsy, even with his forced smile.

"Yes, it is."

“Then…” A sinister smile appeared on Blood Tea Cup’s lips. “I smell something I need here.”

"Shh!"

"How many do you want?" He tapped a gold coin lightly on the table. "Two, three?"

The mere few gold coins seemed to have angered the stall owner, whose voice was as unpleasant as a duck's.

"I'm not that poor! Do you know how much effort I put into getting this stuff in this city bureau? I crossed the ocean, specifically to eliminate the black magicians, to smuggle it here... Damn it!"

"Oh, it seems your goods are very good."

Blood Tea Cup's smile deepened, and the ribbon on the bag was elegantly untied. One—ten, then a hundred gold coins, gleaming with luxurious light, fell in succession onto the dirty wooden table. The accumulated brilliance imbued even the dark sewers with an air of wealth.

In the black market, it's not uncommon to trade hundreds of gold coins, but no one would do it so ostentatiously.

Is that enough?

"You...you're doing this! Even if I made a deal with you, how am I supposed to run away with the money?!"

That's not enough.

Having said that, the gold coin he had initially held between his fingers suddenly slid away. A golden brilliance sliced ​​through the air, and after a long while, the stall owner's hoarse voice became a leaky bellows. Blood gushed out, staining the gold coins on the table red.

"Heh." The Blood Tea Cup seemed to have done something noble, turning around and bowing to the entire black market.

Everyone avoided him like the plague, bowing their heads in dismay. But this elegant madman took what he wanted from the stall owner and strode away from the sewer with an air of superiority that seemed so out of place for him.

Looking at the stall owner's lifeless body, still in his own blood, some people sneered, some sighed, and others ignored him.

"Tomorrow's event is sure to be very lively."

"But we need to look at it from a distance."

“Hey, I have a house near the event. I can stand on high ground, drink beer, and watch the show. Anyone interested? Rent is five gold coins.”

"I heard that Tokaji apples are also involved. I wonder how that great writer will describe the chaos that will happen tomorrow?"

……

The weather at the holy site the next day was not good. Some rain cloud insects, invited by someone, unusually lingered overhead, having a great time and causing rain to fall one after another.

No one likes this kind of rain. The residents inside the holy site were grim because the event might be postponed, and the farmers outside were even more discouraged because their fields would not be irrigated.

Fortunately, someone stepped forward and stood atop the Holy Tower.

Her figure drew the attention of everyone in the holy land. But she wasn't there to chat with the clouds; rather, she was curious and wanted to catch one as a mount. Because her trusted companion, the true master of this holy land, possessed an even more powerful one.

"Who among you wants to come back to the Demon Realm with me?"

"...Who are you? How dare you disturb our lovemaking?"

"Wait, how terrifying is this evil power? Don't, don't provoke her."

Yuan waved and said, "I'm just an ordinary tourist here to participate in the event. I'm currently traveling. I visited the Chaos Land before and am now strolling around the Holy Coffin Kingdom. I happened to come across this event, and I hope you won't block out the warm sun."

Sensing the terrifying power hidden beneath her smile, something was clearly wrong, and the rain clouds dispersed. Since they were invited to the spring party anyway, even though they felt bad for the person who invited them, they could just hold it somewhere else.

At Yuan's urging, the dark clouds dispersed, and sunlight streamed through, meaning the long-prepared event could proceed as planned. Yuan was also happy, but worried about being bothered by many people down there, so she sat on the tower to participate in the event.

Even the person who carried the coffin had embraced it, so sitting on a mere tower shouldn't be a problem.

Some people below seem to think differently, and there's a lot of discussion about it.

"Pope... who... who is that girl? How dare she sit on the very foundation of our faith? Isn't this blasphemy?!"

“We must recall the Guardian of Chaos Blade immediately; I sense a terrifying evil force.”

The Pope was furious and slammed his scepter down on the ground.

"Enough! She was specially invited by the true God to participate in the event! She is the Dawn Princess of the Demon Realm, the actual ruler! You don't understand the true God's intentions at all; she is demonstrating her magnanimity!"

"Can……"

"God has already said that faith does not lie in man-made symbols, but in our hearts. If we continue to cling to the erroneous doctrines of the past, we will sooner or later invite a second divine punishment. This time it was the fruit of God, but what about next time?"

"What we... we believed in was wrong..."

"God is guiding us to correct our ways! If you are not yet willing to correct your faith, you have no right to be here!"

"...I...will heed your teachings, Pope."

The Pope softened his stern expression and offered a string of comforting words, for these new doctrines were gradually revealed by the first popes who had experienced the "miracle of resurrection." Even he, a successor, had wavered before, but now he was enlightened and his mind was as clear as a mirror.

At that moment, a bell rang out, resounding throughout the sacred ground.

That symbolizes that the bell ringer has seen the person he is about to welcome has arrived.

"It has begun—welcoming the heroes home!"

Fireworks filled the sky, and the city was abuzz with excitement. And, quite unusually, the main gates were opened wide. Soon, the rhythmic clatter of horses echoed from the other side of the road—the very place where the main event was taking place.

At the head of the procession was a young, beautiful, and formidable female knight, clad in a dazzling silver helmet. She possessed a maturity and serenity beyond her years and appearance, resembling a wise and enlightened ascetic, her figure enveloped in the light of faith.

Upon seeing her, the Pope wiped his eyes with emotion, for he remembered that he was the one who baptized her.

Then, with a sense of pride, the Pope announced loudly—

"Welcome back to the Holy Land to our hero, 'Saint of Wine Aisalia,' the gardener who triumphed over herself, guided by the true God, and served by His side!"

The crowd cheered; today's event was to welcome her.