This heretic cannot be burned, he must be hung up and whipped!

Flames Rising: 1914: Chapter 28: The Yellow Skin Man Asks for a Title

After giving the soldier a dose of plasma that he had tampered with, Neos looked out the window at the large barracks in front of him. More than one-sixth of the people in the two regiments of tens of thousands of people had been infected with the flu. Isolation tents stood on the ground, with crosses and racks for drying bandages. The wind blew them across the city, making it look like the whole city was in mourning.

"I can't go on like this. My speed in saving people is much slower than the speed at which the virus spreads. Even if my spiritual energy is drained away, I won't be able to save everyone one by one."

Unlike the warp, the spatial structure of reality is very stable, and it has already cost Neos a lot of energy to draw psychic energy from the warp.

"I always thought magic was something extremely abstract, like the wishing machine in cartoons where you could make whatever you wanted come true. But the knowledge I got from those two demons doesn't say that. I also need to retain enough strength to revive Dominica... It's so difficult."

Neos sighed, walked out of the tent, and went to the Ark of the Covenant where Dominic's body was kept. He sent the pilgrims away and spent half a day performing a ceremony. He then told the pilgrims that God would bring Dominic back to the world in seven days.

This was undoubtedly a shot in the arm for the members of the regiment whose morale was low. The saint had returned and brought the oracle of the Supreme Lord. The Lord was even going to perform another miracle in seven days!

The theologians in the regiment, who usually had nothing to do except praying, all worked hard. Even the protective suits as heavy as plate armor could not stop their enthusiasm for preaching. They stood for most of the day in protective suits weighing dozens of kilograms without taking a break, and offered blessings to the soldiers in the hopeful eyes of the patients.

"Pray, for who can pray more than you?"

Originally, Neos was very unhappy with these theologians who ate for free and did nothing, but after seeing how hard they worked to preach and comfort people, and how the suicide rate in the camp was greatly reduced, he finally reluctantly recognized these theologians.

Then Neos turned around and went to discuss scientific epidemic prevention measures with Dr. Edwin and Captain Ogsger.

"Let's focus on both the physical and spiritual fronts. Leave the spiritual front to these theologians, and leave the physical front to us. With a two-pronged approach, we'll definitely see results!"

The Chapter Master was somewhat surprised. "As a saint, you don't discuss doctrine with theologians, study in church, or attend church services. This is beyond my expectation!"

Neos did not respond to his words, but asked Dr. Edwin to continue studying the serum and discuss a suitable epidemic prevention regulation with other doctors.

...

For the next day, Neos was busy running around the camp.

He and volunteers fully armed with chemical protective suits sorted the sick soldiers instead of concentrating them in an isolation area as before.

The regiment's only fever-reducing and cough-suppressing medicines were becoming less and less available, and more and more sick soldiers developed complications. The virus destroyed their immune systems, giving other pathogens the opportunity to take advantage of the situation. Neos saw too many soldiers who survived the virus and ended up in the medical tent again because they contracted various strange diseases.

The commonly used antibacterial drug sulfonamide has little effect. Since this drug is toxic to the human body, the condition of some weak patients has not improved but has shown signs of worsening.

Trench fever, typhoid, pneumonia... The medical waste from tens of thousands of patients every day could not be dealt with in time. Diarrhea and vomit were everywhere. Coughing, vomiting and wailing were heard one after another in the isolation area, and the air was filled with depression and fear.

Blood-stained bandages and gauze were piled up in a pot and boiled. Every day, blood-stained stretchers were carried out of the camp, and the sick and dead soldiers were all transported to a large pit dug temporarily for burial.

Whenever someone died, regardless of the cause, and regardless of whether the body was intact or not, they would all be thrown into a hole called a martyrdom pit. Every time such a pit was filled, a new martyrdom pit would be dug not far away. The living would cover the pit filled with the dead with a layer of soil, and then the military chaplain would numbly recite the following sentence:

"May the martyrs here rest in peace, their souls have ascended to heaven."

A group of humble lives were thus freed from this cruel world.

The Chapter's medical resources were already stretched to the limit. Without enough fuel, the Chapter couldn't even incinerate the bodies of the sick to prevent potential infection. Martyrdom pits filled up one after another. Even the theologians' passionate preaching couldn't refute this bloody reality.

God only favors a few people, and the vast majority of ordinary people can only leave it to fate.

"No, Saint, we can't wait like this any longer! Either we give up on these patients and only take those with mild symptoms with us—or even don't take those with mild symptoms with us, otherwise we'll all die here!"

Even Dr. Edwin had given up. He had dissected countless patients and knew the current situation too well. Apart from using the deus ex machina, they had no way out.

"No. Physical illness can be cured, but if a person's soul collapses, who will heal them? Rely on those theologians?! Don't forget, these are the theologians the soldiers trust most who abandoned the patients. What if Hell takes advantage of this extreme blow and enters?"

"Then could you please ask the Supreme Lord to grant some power to free these soldiers?"

Dr. Edwin posed.

He had hoped to curb the spread of the disease through scientific isolation and epidemic prevention measures, but the regiment was desperately short of medical supplies and medicines, making it impossible for him to implement his plan! Neos was forced into a corner.

He has run out of cards to play.

Reluctantly, he went to the quarantine area again to check the situation. A soldier struggled to sit up, his eyes full of despair.

"Sir, I've taken the medicine you gave me, but I'm still not feeling any better," the familiar soldier lowered his head, his voice trembling, "Am I... am I destined to die?"

Neos felt a sharp pain. He squatted down and tried to sound calm. "Soldier, don't give up hope. We will find a way. You have to believe in yourself. Your body needs time and confidence to fight the disease."

The soldier lowered his head, tears streaming down his cheeks: "I... I want to live, sir... Please save me! Ahem! Ahem! I... I don't want to die!"

He kept coughing, and his sobs were mixed with a strong desire to survive, like a drowning person clinging to a life-saving straw.

Neos was speechless and could only silently shake the soldier's hand. As he turned to leave the isolation area, he bumped into several nurses. They were gathered together, whispering, their faces full of worry.

"Saint, the soldier had actually recovered from the plague, but he contracted trench fever after his recovery."

PS: Trench fever, also known as five-day fever, is a fever caused by Rickettsia infection, usually caused by a dirty environment and lice bites.

"Saint," a doctor holding a bone saw spoke with a hint of uneasiness in his voice, "The quarantine is getting worse. If the disease gets worse, can we continue the march?"

Neos took a deep breath and forced himself to remain calm. "I understand your concerns. I will do everything I can to keep everyone safe. We will take measures to reduce the spread of the disease while completing our mission. Budapest is just ahead, and there are over 400,000 Crusaders trapped in the city. We cannot stop."

The doctor and the other nurses nodded, but the doubt in their eyes remained. Neos turned and left, his steps heavier than before.

As night fell, several bonfires lit up the camp, their dim light illuminating Neos's face. He sat in a tent, holding a worn notebook, futilely scribbling down cold numbers.

"Typhoid fever... 490 people, calculated based on 600 people.

Flu....7831 people, calculated based on the 9000 people in our city.

Trench fever..."

The handwriting on the paper was messy, reflecting his inner anxiety.

"Nyos, what are you calculating?"

Valentine wearily handed over a pot of tea.

"I don't have enough power." Neos said, "I can't dispel all types of diseases from everyone in the chapter at once. I can't do it now, so I can only-"

"boom!"

Before he finished speaking, Neos threw the pen to the ground, making a crisp sound.

"Not enough, absolutely not enough! Do you know how difficult it is to use magic to dispel illness and restore health to a person?! I—I really wish I were the reincarnation of the Emperor, and could give me Old Man Huang's boundless power. Then I could directly mobilize billions of human souls and blast all those damn evil gods, demons, and heretics to the sky!"

Valentine didn't understand, but he understood the current predicament.

"Why?" Neos muttered to himself, his voice low and rapid, "War, plague, famine, death... I haven't heard any good news since I came here!

Yes, Valentine, I have the power to control the devil. You all regard me as a saint and a savior.

You believe in me with all your heart and believe that I can lead you out of this shithole. You don't care about your own life. You turn yourself into coins and hand them over to me, but what about me?

I don’t know anything. I don’t know where the future is going, and I don’t know how to win. You all say that seeing me is equivalent to seeing the direction of the future - but I don’t know either!

Amos almost treats me as a god. He doesn't care about the science and rationality I tell the pilgrims. He will take everything I say as the standard. Even if I ask him to hang the Pope from his chair and beat him with a copper-headed leather belt, he will not hesitate for a second!

There is no opposition, no thinking, only blind obedience and faith... This is not how the world should be.

Then there's the Warmaster - oh no, Dominica. She doesn't care who I am. She just believes that I can lead everyone to drive all the monsters back to the warp. I know what she's thinking. She has fought for hundreds of years and killed more people than I have eaten. After being abandoned by God, that old Deng, in order to realize her ideal, she chose me, just because my goal is the same as hers.

She used herself as a tool to realize her ideals. She had nothing left except her ideals. She gave all her chips to me. It was people like her who gave me the greatest pressure.

It was this ideal that allowed her to survive hundreds of years of fighting. To be honest, this kind of person is too pure, so pure that it scares me.

And you, Valentine, at least seemed to have taken in the ideas I had shared with the pilgrims. You had followed me from the trenches until now, and had witnessed countless miracles and my miserable state.

I think, from what I've seen and heard along the way, and from what I've said, you should be able to guess that the thing above is not a good thing."

Neos thought of what the Warp Observer had said to humans earlier, picked up the pen, and pointed to the cross on the tent.

"I don't believe there wasn't a single intelligent person in the eight hundred years of war. Many people understood clearly, but some chose to numb themselves with faith, attributing those anomalies to hallucinations and the bewitchment of hell. Some chose to pretend they couldn't see, living in pain yet soberly. But judging by the current situation, they haven't changed a thing.

Some people believe in God just because I claim to be God, while some people simply give up their role and regard me as the next God!

Valentine, I'm a little lost right now. I admit that when I first came here, many of my ideas were wrong. As more and more people follow me, I already feel like I'm not myself anymore.

They were drawn to me, gathered around me, and gave me their lives and faith without reservation, trusting me to realize their dreams. I was swept along by their ideals... Am I Neos, or the Holy Grail that fulfills everyone's dreams, the wish-granting machine?

Neos became more and more excited as he spoke. He closed his notebook, threw it on the ground, and paced back and forth around the campfire.

As he spoke, he waved and hit with his fists vigorously, as if he was fighting an invisible enemy.

A psychic with great power, who dedicated everything to humanity, refused to become a god, but had no choice but to accept the faith of hundreds of millions of humans. He was stuck on the last step of becoming a god and endured torture for dozens of years... That god... no, that man, he knew from the beginning that there would be no turning back after embarking on this path, but he still chose to stand up and take on that responsibility.

The Observer's knowledge told him that once he began to gather faith and connect with the Warp, his ascension to become one of the Warp's transcendental beings was only a matter of time. However, if he exercised proper control, not relying solely on faith to bear all the burdens, but instead allowing everyone to achieve essential sublimation, he could fulfill the dream of a nation of six hundred million people, a land of Yao and Shun...

This is more challenging than walking a tightrope.

"Now, everything is looking more and more like déjà vu."

Neos seemed to understand why he came here.

Time passed, and with each passing day, the number of patients increased, and the morale of the healthy soldiers declined. If the epidemic could not be controlled, the entire team might collapse, and the mission of rescuing more than 400,000 Crusaders in Budapest would be in vain.

The war will not end, and the long torture that has lasted for more than 800 years will continue.

The future of mankind is already doomed....Hundreds of millions of people will be tortured for eternity on the chessboard of heaven and hell...

No matter what the observers had previously said about the truth of this game, Neos no longer cared. He only had one position, and that was humanity.

No matter what his future or the future of mankind will be like, he will not back down.

"What I'm going to do has never been done before and will never be done again. There are predecessors who are much stronger than me who have tried, but they failed. They failed because of themselves and their beliefs."

"Nyos, did the senior you mentioned lose?"

"I do not know."

As the only person in the team capable of solving problems, he cannot let the team stagnate, he must start to gather the power of faith; maybe it won't have any effect now, but as his faith deepens, the prayers, thoughts, goals, ideas, emotions, and memories of hundreds of millions of believers will be imposed on him, then who will he be?

Neos smiled with relief. He snapped his fingers, and the boundary between the real world and the ether sea gradually became blurred. His figure disappeared into the void with the ripples of space, leaving behind his essence.

Valentine stood calmly in front of the campfire, watching the scene, without saying a word, thinking.

"What do I look like to you?"

PS：240推荐票票下一更4.5k起步！1月票/刀片/100打赏等于20票票！

Rising Flames: 1914: Leave Notice

Holy Terra Palace's report on Bei Zhai's inability to complete the latest chapter of his novel due to family reasons and postgraduate entrance examination planning.

—————————Zhaizi【2025】No.1

Imperial Propaganda Department:

According to the recent statement submitted by the author Bei Zhai, we would like to inform you that the update of the latest chapter of his novel has been delayed due to family reasons and planning for postgraduate entrance exams:

I. Overview of the Situation

On March 5, 2025, the author, Bei Zhai, submitted a written report stating that due to an unexpected family matter, he needed to focus on his postgraduate entrance exams and would be unable to complete the serialized novel as originally planned. This information has been verified by the Holy Terra Publicity Bureau.

II. Specific Situation

Analysis of the cause: Bei Zhai has recently been facing the dual pressures of coordinating family affairs and preparing for the postgraduate entrance examination. He needs to devote a lot of time to dealing with family responsibilities and academic planning, resulting in insufficient creative energy.

影响范围：原定于2025年3月7日发布的新章节将延期至2025年3月8日更新，后续章节同步顺延。

Response: The author has submitted a revised creative plan and promised to adjust the time allocation to ensure the completion of subsequent content.

3. Holy Terra's Instructions

The Imperial Propaganda Department should urge the Propaganda Bureau to strengthen communication and coordination with authors, provide them with necessary support, and help them balance their studies and creative tasks.

All departments need to learn from this and improve the emergency reporting mechanism for creators to avoid the continuity of works being affected by force majeure.

Inform readers of adjustment plans through official channels in a timely manner, do a good job in guiding public opinion, and maintain the credibility of the Empire Literature Project.

Holy Terra Palace

September 7th, 2025

Rising Flames: 1914: Chapter 29 Pretend to be a God, and I'll Make You Fly!

In front of him, the cold blue-white little sun was burning quietly. It was the first time in Valentine's life that he saw a living person turn into such a strange thing. He widened his eyes and stared at the sun carefully.

He noticed that there were countless tiny threads connecting to the sun. The thickest black thread led all the way to Priest Amos's tent, and the thread connecting him... was so thin and dim that it was almost invisible.

He had some guesses in his mind.

"Do you think I look like a human or a god?"