“Light…”

Warm.

Brillant.

Rejuvenating light…

While most of the crowd was still mesmerized by the radiance that washed over them, others – including me – had already snapped out of our stupor.

And, the sight that greeted us could only be described as surreal, no matter how many times one had seen such.

*RUMBLE*RUMBLE*

As waves of golden droplets nurtured the soil, a constant quake could be felt. Then, what seemed like a fast-paced documentary started playing in real life as roots and stems tore the ground apart, revealing plants, crops and saplings that now grew at miraculous speed.

“Quite a miracle, indeed…”

As flowers bloomed and fruits mellowed, an irresistible scent of sweetness soon filled the air. Yet, while the nose might be tempted, the mouth never wavered, for it didn’t take long before freshly baked breads started getting handed out by the priesthood in droves.

“Praise be to our Mother, for Her boundless care has blossomed into a bountiful harvest.”

“Praise!”

Many within the crowd were now greedily gnawing on their handout. Despite this, it was noticeable that a good chunk of those in attendance had instead decided to clasp both hands in worship, placing their bread in the middle of their palms.

Furthermore, a brief glance of my surroundings brought about a realization most unexpected.

Hope…

It was faint, but its presence was undeniable.

Instead of stepping on each other in fear of not getting their share, the lowest class now believed in the promise of abundance – which was further reaffirmed once even more sacks of bread got brought out.

Instead of clasping one’s hands without any real conviction, the middle class now dared to dream of glory long past – whose revival no longer felt like a foolish fancy.

Most adventurers still didn’t bother to show up, believing that they were “above the mass”.

Yet, those that did seemed to strengthen their fervor, every time the archpriest’s sermon reached a new height.

And that was not mentioning the faithful themselves…

“Praise be to our Matron, for Her vast wisdom has unveiled an enlightened way of life.”

“Praise!”

While wonderous miracles brought about by faith fed into the harvest, mortal hands continued to collect fruits and crops without any need for rest, with some even got assigned to chop wood into timbers, using a swing of the arm alone.

All these feats wouldn’t have been possible, had it not been for the countless holy buffs bordering on absurdity.

“It still feels surreal…”

Putting aside the thought that anyone being buffed with enough miracles would gain superhuman strength alone… The fact that followers of the Golden Sun had pretty much unlocked their infinite food glitch was, in and of itself, mind-blowing!

It was a self-sufficient cycle, I had to admit.

This was also, without a doubt, the reason why the Golden Empire could boast that it had reached “enlightenment”.

Yet…

Before the thought of how great a utopia this might have brought about could linger, several dreadful words had already snapped me back to reality.

“Praise be to our Martyr…”

It felt as if a bucket of cold water had been unceremoniously dumped onto my head.

All around me, quite a few people – mostly farmers, outlanders or citizens living on the outskirts – also shuddered in discomfort.

We had gotten to that part of the ceremony, it seemed…

“For Her unending sacrifices…!”

While fruits, crops and timbers were still harvested by preachers in white, another group of faithful in red had also begun to form their own circle - with several beasts of burden being put in the middle of such gathering.

There was one stark difference that could spook anyone unfamiliar with this kind of ritual, of course.

After all.

Despite the blissful look shown by cattle and poultry - all of whom were raised with loving care - as well as the serene expression so many herders in blood red cloaks now wore…

There was no denying what these devotees intended to do next, given the sharp cleavers gleaming in their hands.

“Has blessed us, ALL OF US, FROM NEEDING TO TAKE A LIFE!!!”

With that, the sound of slaughter finally commenced…

[ | | ]

*Splash*

*Splash*Splash*Splash*

Had you ever wondered where the meat on your plate came from?

Back when I was a kid, I used to believe that farmers simply plucked them off some tree, like most other food my mom bought from the market.

… Please stop looking at me like that. I wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, alright?

*Splash*

Anyway…

It wasn’t long after I had the naïve assumption about some lovely, meat-giving trees that my school organized a holiday trip for us younglings, just before the year ended.

“It will teach you about the world!”

“It will make you love your pets more!!”

“It will be an unforgettable experience!!!”

It was a visit to an abattoir.

Needless to say, our good ol’ principal got the boot while us kindergarteners never believed in Santa ever again, but I digressed.

That said.

The image of animals being butchered alive, while helpless of their own fate, still shook me to the core ‘til this very day.

*Splash*Splash*Splash*

“How horrendous…”

“It never gets easy, watching this…”

“Meh. What are you lot complaining about? They will get resurrected anyway!”

“Me no like. Dead should stay dead… This… not natural!”

“Aye, can’t believe that I would agree with the outlander, but-”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

A good portion of the crowd, which had mostly been subservient so far, now grew quite rowdy at the mass grave being created.

Despite this, no one denied the serving of pork and beef that was beginning to get handed out.

I was no different, of course.

After all, the food I ate, the water I drank, the rations I got - before my status update from an unemployed bum to a working member of society - as well as whatever provisions I could buy from the market… Everything was only possible thanks to this miracle provided by the church.

These handouts were merely a reminder that we already used such supplies on a daily basis. Thus, to deny them now would be the height of hypocrisy.

And yet….

After accepting the dish of lamb chop offered by some priestess - who sighed in relief upon seeing how I had one arm but no beard like a certain seer - I couldn’t help but start my musing.

How exactly did the empire manage to make this the norm, to the point that their very faith was now intertwined with such a practice?

And, more importantly, why?

Many people might have told me the answers to both queries – all of which involved a certain hack of an emperor... Yet, I still couldn’t shake off the feeling that something remained amiss.

“Praise be to Her light!”

“Praise!”

Golden droplets once again fell onto the pit, and it didn’t take long before all beasts of burden emerged from their grave fully intact.

However, the fact that all of them still had the same dopey look from before - as if they never knew what sort of horror had befallen them just minutes earlier - was what gave me chills.

That was not mentioning how some cattle had been harvested clean, yet a few lingering remains were all it took to bring them back.

The implication of such a dreadful sight felt uncomfortable, to say the least…

“Praise be to Her mercy! Praise be to Her WRATH!!!”

“PRAISE!!!”

As the final incantation neared its peak, so was the fervor of those most faithful to the cause, to the point that many refugees near me had begun to look a bit unnerved at such a display of zeal.

Yet, I could only offer these pious men and women my reluctant respect.

After all.

If it were me, I wouldn’t have been able to hold onto a dead hope for so long.

“Moth'r, Matron, Martyr, Reap'r... Golden maiden yond grac'd us from the beyond... WE BESEECH THY FAV’R, ALMIGHTY GODDESS OF WAR...!!!”

“PRAISE!!! PRAISE!!! PRAISE!!!”

“ARISETH, BENEDICTION OF GUARDIAN ANGEL!!! BESTOW THY BLESSINGS UPON US ALL!!!”

A lingering resonance seemed to fill the air. Then, as if expecting this, one sudden burst of brilliance exploded from the hilltop where those most faithful called home, causing blinding radiance to envelope everything once more.

Sighing lightly, I decided to finish the rest of my meal before getting to work.

With any luck, the tip from my followers might turn out to be wrong, and no trouble would rear its mug on such a holy day as this one.

[ | ]

From the brightest peak to its darkest crevices, golden light fully enveloped the town that was Folen Frontier, leaving countless citizens to gasp in awe at such a display of miracle.

Soon, the moment turned into seconds - in which many could only fall onto both knees with tears brimming in their eyes.

Was this it?

Would they dare to hope?

Then, minutes later, when it became clear that the glow wouldn’t dim, the dam finally burst.

“A miracle... A TRUE MIRACLE!!!”

“My arm is back! Mommy, mommy, look!”

“Shaddup, Bob, I can see it just fine. Now keep quiet and try not to be a buffoon next time, ok?”

“This light... Heh... My old bones still remember it, back when the sun once shone above us...”

“A runner from the morgues said all the departed have revived again! The constables have also confirmed that no scums or ruffians were resurrected as well!”

“It seems this miracle truly has a mind of its own, just like back then...”

“The Goddess truly lives! Praise!!!”

Cries of cheers could no longer be held back, and it wasn’t long before the town square exploded into a festive mood.

Lost lambs living at the slums turned hopeful, for this unexpected boon was the beacon of hope that had eluded them for so long.

Hard-working souls hardened their dwindling faith, for this demonstration was the proof that all their hardships weren’t for naught.

And yet...

For Kyne - one of the most faithful followers of the Golden Sun - this was, without a doubt, another failure.

Golden One... Why... Why have you forsaken us...?

The old archpriest couldn’t stop such blasphemous thoughts from plaguing his mind. All around him, a miraculous rejuvenation had begun to shower every citizen with its blessing. However, for Kyne himself, it felt as if he had aged another decade.

“G... Goddess...”

The sad utterance reverberated throughout the crowd, causing whatever cheers to slowly grow quiet.

A confusion started to spread, followed by one budding panic, and Kyne badly wanted to kick himself for forgetting about the miracle of understanding he had invoked earlier.

“… The magic of this world might have faded, yet the Goddess’ grace is still with us.”

Before anyone could voice their question at what just transpired, the archpriest’s ethereal voice had already forced its way inside everyone’s head once more.

“I only ask this of you: take a look at the food that nurtures us, the light that gently lifts us back to the cradle of life. Can you see it? These miracles not only allow us to survive in this dark time… they are also proof that the Goddess is still out there…”

Such words felt like ash in the old preacher’s mouth.

Yet, he pressed on, for he must.

Failing here… faltering here… it would mean all the struggles, all the sacrifices… they would have been for naught…

“So, take heed, one and all, for as long as we remain faithful, one day, salvation will come to pass! The Golden One will return to us…! She will return to us…”

Kyne turned his head with every word, making sure to look at each group that made up the crowd. From faithful to faithless, from citizens to outlanders, all needed to see his conviction, to see that the preacher of faith still believed in his own preachings.

He wished that he could believe in such lies as well...

With a single thought, the miracle of understanding ceased, cutting off the archpriest’s connection with all attendees.

It was just in time, for the shame of deception that Kyne Olde Mann now felt was far worse than any sin he might have committed - even the treason that got his House exiled so many decades ago...

Some of his disciples - especially those most devout to the faith - looked at him with worries and concerns. Much like Kyne, they also realized that the “miracle” earlier was not something truly brought about by faith.

Instead, it was the artifacts from those cursed dungeons that everyone had to thank for.

A sigh left the old preacher’s lips. Then, with a quiet nod, he motioned for the mass to proceed.

“The harvest will continue for the entirety of this holy day.” A high priestess said to the crowd, and another high priest continued such announcement. “Those that are in need of rations, please line up right here. Artisans and business owners from the dawn district can find their provisions in the usual warehouses, which should be ready by noon. As for anyone that would like to make a... donation... to support Folen Frontier, especially those from the dusk district... please wait at-”

“Oh! Me me me! Me like to make... donation.”

A crass voice cut through the solemn atmosphere, and it didn’t take long before the crowd parted to reveal a gang of wildkins - whose cloaks now laid discarded on the ground.

Kyne grimaced at the sight, knowing what was about to happen. Sure enough, several bloodied wildkins bound in ropes soon got brought to the front, their tears and screams muffled by gags...

The old archpriest felt sick to the core.

Many constables had warned him that the “beastmen” – loathed as he was to use such a word – had become bolder due to the one-armed seer’s growing influence. There were even rumors that the radical faction led by said villain wanted to make a move on this mass, though Kyne had hoped that they would back off after the Church sent its agents here.

Yet, despite everything, the archpriest could only blame himself for allowing this atrocity to happen in the first place...

“Donation! Pay in advance! Front tear need artifact, me give. Priest agree, yes?”

With a snap of his fingers, the brutish wolfkin had his underlings dump the content of their bags onto the ground, eliciting gasps of shock and awe from every pilgrim nearby.

“So many artifacts! How... How!?”

“Must be stolen goods from real adventurers. Don’t forget that those beastmen would lose their strength the farther they got into the dungeons.”

“Bah! I bet that this haul is from rookie crushing! Filthy animals!”

“Calm down, you lot. Remember that the priesthood can tell whether or not someone is lying. If the outlanders truly got their artifacts by spawn camping other adventurers, divine judgement would have been delivered by now.”

“Uhm... Am I the only one concerned about the slaves? They look as if they’re marching to the gallows or something...”

“Heh, buffoons, all of ye! Lemme tell ye this, the reason me ‘less eloquent’ kins have been so successful is simple enough. Watch. It’s not everyday ye gonna get to see some pigeons squirm.”

A bitter taste of iron could be felt as the old preacher’s lips drew blood. Then, as if confirming his worst fear, several young wildkins suddenly broke free from their bindings and made a mad dash in different directions, desperate to flee from their captors.

They didn’t make it far.

One of the bearkin lifted a rabbitkin by her neck, before chowing down on the sobbing girl.

The pilgrims attending the mass could only gasp and stare in horror as the outlander showed everyone why his kins were deemed as “beastman” in the first place...

Once the brute finished his meal, leaving naught behind but one bloody corpse, he nodded in satisfaction.

And hopped.

Farther, and faster, than those of his tribe should have been able to...

*Whoosh*

One of the escaped slaves - who managed to flee upon a faraway rooftop - was in the middle of jumping mid-air. The poor thing could barely scream, before a furry hand smashed his head into a pulp...

*Whoosh*

A javelin flew as fast as a flash, skewering its target and left the broken prey bleeding on the ground.

The rabbitkin that threw said weapon also had a barely alive slave near her – a small lionkin, who now lacked one nasty chunk that used to make up his neck...

*Whoosh*Whoosh*Whoosh*

Several other beastmen finished their own hunt and brought back the fleeing quarries. Some of them did so without the need for any powerup, though most – as Kyne could painfully see – had taken such a bite...

Needless to say, it didn’t take long before the crowd’s bewilderment turned into condemnation.

The old preacher didn’t care about such.

Right now, he could only hear what the outlanders had to say for their horrendous deed.

“Fool! Why eat much!? Thrall here also dead!!!”

“Why care? Priest heal anyway.”

“Speak true. We trade. Priest bring back. Life return, death no problem.”

These incoherent barks the wolfkin said to his bear and rabbit underlings stoke a wrath inside Kyne that he didn’t even know exist.

However.

Even as the anger within the archpriest grew, even as the crowd’s protest turned threatening, the beastmen remained indifferent.

After all, they knew that no consequences would befall them, for Folen Frontier cared about its own survival much more than the lives of some slaves...

“...”

Sure enough, as Kyne looked into the protesters’ eyes, he saw it.

Anger.

Wrath.

But no desire to cease this atrocity...

... And why should they?

Years ago, people still needed to step over one another, just for a tiny piece of ration.

This current, plentiful life that Folen Frontier recently achieved, was only thanks to the magic from artifacts plundered in dungeons...

Magic...

Not faith...

A fake miracle, brought about thanks to magic from those cursed pits of evil...

Kyne once again bit his lips enough to draw blood.

Just then, the brutish wolfkin threw a dead slave at his feet, before kicking some artifacts over.

“Trade. Me has artifact. Priest need. We both benefit, yes? Gahahahah!!!”

“...”

The air shuddered with divinity as Kyne’s wrath clouded his mind.

Smiting these scums right here, right now, would be so easy, especially inside a domain filled to the brim with faith like this town.

It was tempting.

Beyond tempting...

Yet.

Before the archpriest could make his decision, a sudden shout had already caused him to freeze up.

“yes... Yes... YESSSSS...!!!”

With that, the image of a certain seer entered everyone’s view, and Kyne couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping as said beardy man started dancing around like some drunken lunatic after one too many drinks...