Chapter 1022: What Did You Just Say? (Part 7)

The man gazed at the gruesome scene in front of him with an emotionless expression. Lifeless bodies were scattered all around. If one were to gather these bodies in one place, it would truly form a mountain of corpses, but there was no reason to do so.

His gaze slowly descended. Two dismembered corpses and the weapons they held were lying on the ground, abandoned by their owners. The ground, drenched in blood, had turned a deep shade of red.

Despite all of this, the man's eyes showed no hint of emotion. He slowly raised his hand. He stared at his bloodless hand for a moment and then turned his gaze back to the distant sky.

"Bishop."

At that moment, the envoy approached and bowed.

"All living beings in this area have been eradicated."

However, not a word came from the lips the bishop. The envoy knelt on the cold ground, waiting for his lips to part.

Finally, the bishop spoke.

"Isn't it strange?"

"What are you saying...?"

The man who was once called Danjagang (段自强), but has now lost that name, lowered his dark eyes and spoke.

"It was so easy."

"..."

"The Central Plains has always been a place that needed to be erased from the world."

"That's correct."

"But they were so weak."

The bishop slowly shook his head.

"Are they weak, or are we strong?"

"I do not know the answer."

"Well, either way, it's the same."

The bishop took a slow step forward. With a squelching sound, he crossed the blood-soaked ground, which was now nothing but corpses and blood.

"If it was this easy... why did the Demonic Cult endure hunger and despair for so long?"

"Because that is the mission of the Demonic Cult."

"...Indeed. It's a mission. One that was bestowed upon us."

It was an order given by Him.

The bishop's two eyes sank into a gloomy state.

'I don't know.'

Was it because he couldn't fully believe, or was the teaching of the Demonic Cult flawed? He had thoroughly despised the reality of the Central Plains, but now, intense doubts had taken hold of the bishop.

"Why did the Demonic Cult lose?"

"The Demonic Cult did not lose."

"Then change your words. Why did the Demonic Cult not completely crush the Central Plains and have to hide in desolate places? Facing such feeble beings."

"That..."

The Demonic Cult envoy couldn't bring himself to speak. He was paralyzed by the fear that even a slight deviation in his answer might cast doubt on his faith.

Seeing him like this, the bishop chuckled softly.

"You don't need to answer."

"..."

The reason must be straightforward.

Either this Central Plains had soaked in peace for the past hundred years and had entirely lost its former power, or...

The bishop nodded his head, as if to erase an unimaginable and heretical thought that had come to mind. He often raised his head alone like this. It was an old habit of his.

As he raised his head, the familiar words that he had heard endlessly echoed in his ears.

- Our mission is to await His return. Do not think. Do not doubt. The only thing permitted to His faithful servants is unwavering belief.

'These old men...'

A hundred years had passed. For a long time, amidst the constant changes of the rivers and the mountains, they simply waited. They believed in a 'return' with no foreseeable date.

Could that be called a life?

Without thinking, without doubting, can it truly be called life?

He hadn't always harbored these feelings. To him, faith in the Heavenly Demon had been so natural. He had worshipped the Heavenly Demon since he could remember. He had learned to delight in waiting for His return and regarded dedicating his life to Him as a joy.

The first instance of doubt crept into him because of a very small incident.

A certain someone's death.

Like him, this person had never seen the presence of the Heavenly Demon. They were born after the war and had simply learned His teachings and lived. This was the first time they had seen someone who had fallen ill and died.

One who waits will attain the brilliance of the return.

Sure, let's assume that statement is not wrong.

But what about those who died without witnessing the return?

For those who endured excruciating training like hell for that one moment, living a life that had no meaning whatsoever, what is given to them?

If nothing is given, then why should the followers endure this agonizing existence?

Why?

The bishop's two eyes were endlessly gloomy.

No matter how much he questioned, there were no answers. Only the words "believe and wait."

The upper echelons of the Demonic Cult are those who experienced the past war in some way. These stubborn old men do not allow any doubt, drowned in fanatical devotion to the Heavenly Demon.

What kind of conversation can one have with those who consider wearing their own skin as a loincloth and wielding it for the Heavenly Demon's sake as an honor?

And so, Danjagang waited. He waited silently for those long years, brushing aside doubt and striving to fill himself entirely with faith.

However, once suspicion takes root, it never disappears. Doubt had gnawed at him like a terminal illness.

What if the Heavenly Demon never returns? No, what if He only returns after he has died?

In that case, what was Danjagang's life even for? What could one say it existed for, even if he was born as a renowned sword but never wielded and rusted away, melting into scrap metal?

"Bishop…"

A subtle unease passed through the envoy's pleading voice.

"It's not too late. Bishop. Even now…"

"Stop it."

Danjagang firmly nodded his head again this time.

"Bishop."

The envoy bit his lower lip.

"My life is not worth anything. I understand very well that what you, Bishop, are planning to do is another way to demonstrate your faith in Him."

"But?"

"However, they won't see it that way. They don't tolerate doubt. If it goes further here..."

"Why? Are you worried that I'll be captured and torn apart by those old men?"

"...Bishop."

"It's unnecessary worry."

Danjagang's gaze was fixed far away.

"We wait for His return without stepping into the Central Plains."

"Yes, that is our mission."

"Anyone who defies the Heavenly Demon's command is punished only by death."

"That is also..."

The envoy sealed his lips, understanding Danjagang's intent. These two principles must be upheld by any followers. However...

"The moment they step into the Central Plains to capture me, they, too, will be breaking their mission. They won't set foot here."

Danjagang let out a bitter laugh.

"It's full of contradictions."

The teachings of the Heavenly Demon don't align with each other. He only learned that after becoming the bishop. What they believed were just fragments of what He had uttered, haphazardly strung together.

"No need for doubt," Danjagang said with a heavy voice.

"If He truly nurtures and guides us, He will surely respond to our earnestness. I am just a messenger representing the followers, seeking to convey our devotion to Him."

"...?"

When no reply came, he glanced down at the envoy.

"Speak."

"...I dare not..."

"Speak."

Unable to resist the urging, the envoy bit his lower lip slightly and then finally opened his mouth.

"If, by any chance, in a million-to-one chance, He doesn't heed our cries or doesn't return, what will you do?"

Danjagang replied with indifference, "That's impossible."

"Bishop."

"He will definitely respond."

He turned away from the envoy.

However, deep within his indifferent eyes, something small churned.

'What if He doesn't answer?'

He had asked that question countless times already. But no matter how many times he asked, there was no answer.

'I'll find out when the time comes.'

For a moment, a shadow of gloom passed through Danjagang's eyes as he suppressed the welling unease within.

"Guests have arrived."

Hearing this, the envoy sprang to his feet and sharply observed the front.

"They seem a bit different."

A faint smile appeared at the corner of Danjagang's lips.

Perhaps they might reveal the true power of the Central Plains that he hadn't sensed.

"I'll handle it."

"No, leave them be. Let's hear them out first."

Danjagang slowly stepped forward. The approaching party seemed to recognize him or perhaps was drawn directly towards him.

Before he could speak, warriors who emitted a formidable aura lined up on the other side. Their number exceeded a hundred.

"Hmm."

Before Danjagang could even open his mouth, one person walked out from among them.

Dressed in a plain green outfit, a middle-aged man with a cold expression, the Great Master of Ten Thousand Gold, finally confronted Danjagang.

"Are you in charge?"

Danjagang didn't respond.

But the Great Master of Ten Thousand Gold had apparently heard enough and didn't wait any longer. He signaled, and those behind him brought a large box and placed it in front of him.

Thunk!

Several boxes, each about the size of a person's torso, simultaneously toppled forward. The lids opened, and a vast array of precious gems and gold poured out like an overflowing grain sack.

Danjagang casually scanned through the numerous treasures, his eyes wandering.

"What is this?"

"A gift."

"A... gift?"

The Great Master of Ten Thousand Gold slowly nodded.

"When welcoming the most prominent demonic sect in the world, you can't come empty-handed. Consider this as Black Ghost Castle's goodwill."

A faint smile curved on Danjagang's lips.

"What do you want?"

"A conversation. And an agreement."

"Conversation...?"

As Danjagang remained silent, the Great Master of Ten Thousand Gold spoke first.

"We would like to know what you desire."

"Why?"

"If we can offer it, we might cooperate."

The intentions in the Great Master's eyes were so obscure that they were difficult to discern. Danjagang mumbled slowly.

"What we want..."

Step, step.

He walked forward calmly, then reached down to pick up one of the items on the floor.

"So prosperous."

Crack, crack.

The treasures in his hand crumbled and shattered in an instant. Gold tore into pieces and gems turned to dust, dispersing in the air.

"...Such an abundant land. These useless things can hold value, it seems."

"If you desire..."

However, the Great Master showed no sign of surprise.

"Wealth could accumulate like mountains. Or perhaps it could become the land for your people to live."

"..."

"I can't guarantee we can provide everything in the world, but most things can be granted."

"Hmm."

"Speak. What do you desire? Doing business at a loss is unlikely. What we gain would be too small in comparison to what we offer."

Danjagang raised his stern lips.

"Grain, land, wealth... we have no need for those."

"Then?"

The Great Master of Ten Thousand Gold remained undeterred. They clearly wanted something, so there was no reason to waver.

"But... in my opinion, you have what I want."

Danjagang stared directly at the Great Master.

"Tell me, unbeliever."

"Is your reputation so high that it shakes the entire middle region?"

The Great Master nodded slowly.

"My reputation is not that low."

"Good. Then it's settled."

Danjagang smiled faintly.

"Your death will certainly become known throughout the land. To the extent that everyone knows we're here."

The calm expression of the Great Master, maintained all along, twitched for a moment.

"What you want..."

"Now, shut your filthy mouth, you filthy unbeliever. Just the sound of your voice seems like it could rot my ears."

Bloodlust began to emanate from Danjagang's eyes.

"All I need is your confession. Scream. Scream until your throat bursts. Let your pitiful wails echo throughout the world."

"Mad..."

The Great Master's complexion changed suddenly.

The madness radiating from Danjagang seemed to strangle the breath out of him momentarily.

"The negotiations have collapsed. Start with the enemy's leader!"

Nevertheless, one fortunate aspect was that they had confronted the enemy's commander right in front of them. If they could eliminate this one, the remaining inmates would be easy to handle!

"Kill him!"

When the Great Master gave the order, the elite soldiers of Black Ghost Castle rushed toward the bishop, exuding a sharp, cutting aura.

But at that moment...

Kwaaaaaaang!

A magical storm, centered around Danjagang, swept in. The black magic surged like a colossal dragon's wrath, endlessly reaching into the sky.

Confronted by this grand spectacle, the elite soldiers of Black Ghost Castle who had been charging stopped in their tracks, almost instinctively.

"What... uh..."

Was this really a scene created by humans?

In the midst of the dark, swirling vortex, a torrent of bloodshot light poured forth.

"Only death will make you valuable!"

Danjagang's magic burst out in all directions.