Chapter 291: Opening the Stage

York had intentionally allowed the filmed video to exert a significant impact at this moment.

Unbeknownst to him, even though the video showed no display of power and featured only his loud recitation of prayers and an ordinary exorcism process, it still profoundly stirred the janitors around the world. All those still guarding humanity on the front lines shed their official uniforms in response.

Unfortunately, York, situated in what was reputedly the most remote part of the world, was unaware of these developments and changes.

He had just received a request.

"You mean to say, the relatives of the deceased wish for me to conduct a funeral service for them?"

Mirta, standing beside him, answered for the crowd gathered outside.

"Yes, Father York."

Encountering such a matter dampened even Mirta's spirits, which had been uplifted by the excitement of the new church.

"This is the money they have donated to our Plutarch Church."

Mirta pulled out a small pouch and, under his gaze, unveiled its contents—coins he had never seen before, gleaming brightly enough to dazzle anyone, including himself.

"Is this world's currency system based on gold coins?" York garnered a piece of information.

That the common people could bring forth so much gold suggested that the world might indeed be rich enough in gold mines to allow ordinary people to own it to this extent.

"They offered this just to have you preside over a funeral service."

Mirta's voice brought him back to the present.

With so much money on the line, plus a system mission, York couldn't possibly refuse.

After all, funeral services were one of the reasons for the prevalence of religion.

York sighed, "Alright."

He said, eyeing Mirta, but a part of his consciousness was already focusing on the sorrowful crowd outside, young and old.

"Tell them, I agree." York stood up, seriously.

"Mirta, we need to take this seriously."

Mirta, holding the pouch, nodded slightly, "Yes, Father York."

The long-absent funeral service was set to occur.

What York hadn't anticipated was that this service, seemingly just for the victims of the Uliel rot incident, attracted a vast crowd.

The large Plutarch Church was soon filled to capacity.

Given the church's size and the number of benches, it could comfortably accommodate two to three hundred people.

Yet now, according to the holographic display, there were far more than just two or three hundred attendees.

People in black filled the extra space behind the benches, growing like bamboo, one after another, silently filling up every available space until the church could hold no more, continuing to stand in the back.

One by one, people silently appeared, filling the front yard and eventually spilling outside...

All this unfolded under his watch, slowly taking on this new form.

For this, York checked his attire for the first time.

He was beginning to understand what this world was like and what his arrival would entail.

"Chief Lack really did a great job, promising to promote Plutarch Church, and now it seems like the whole town has come to the funeral."

York shook his head, patting off invisible dust from his robe.

He headed towards the back door of the annex.

This building, much like the churches of his previous world, had a passage at the back that allowed clergy to reach the church's side door unseen.

"Let's go, Mirta."

"Yes, Father York."

As they followed the path to the church's side door, preparing to enter, York exhaled softly, holding the Bible in a standard posture and walked into the church with Mirta following behind.

Upon entering,

York immediately felt countless gazes upon him.

He could sense the emotions behind those gazes—complex, nostalgic, hesitant, expectant.

This was a familiar sensation; York recalled similar moments from the real world.

Facing the emotionally charged gazes, York stepped up to the pulpit and turned to face the crowded congregation.

He placed the Bible on the lectern in front of him.

This time, it was a face-off between the clergyman and the people of this other world.

Everyone looked at the clergyman on the pulpit, their eyes changing slightly.

And York, observing them, noticed changes too.

He saw Chief Lack and Ryan, who had shed their police uniforms for black attire, sitting solemnly among the congregation.

He saw the farm owners, Antonio and his wife, who had greatly contributed to Plutarch Church but were attending for the first time.

He also saw some previously numb faces now showing emotion, some elderly with slightly reddened eyes.

"So, you all have been waiting a long time."

Facing the people of this other world, York suddenly felt moved, unsure of what to think, but began to speak directly.

"Dear brothers and sisters, we gather here today with heavy hearts to conduct a funeral for those we miss and love.

Let us seek comfort and strength from God, in this sorrowful moment, let us call upon Him to grant peace and solace to our families and friends.

May we pray together for the eternal peace of the departed..."

He spoke the opening words he had often used in the real world.

York was earnest, seriously fulfilling his duties.

Without any unnecessary rhetoric or procedures, he methodically carried out the funeral service steps.

After the opening words, he led everyone in prayer, asking God for comfort and strength.

"In this moment of sorrow, we pray to You to grant us peace and comfort, let them deeply feel Your mercy and love, accept the souls of the deceased, and let them rest forever."

The prayer was followed by reading of the Bible, then the eulogy, preaching, concluding remarks, and more prayers...

Step by step, York, leading the ceremony, looked at everyone present and suddenly realized that the church in this other world had never died; it had always lived on in the hearts of the people.

The entire ceremony felt seamless, which only reinforced York's suspicion that those who established the ancient church in this world must have been saints from the real world.

Besides this, York discovered that Plutarch Church had begun to accumulate the power of faith.

This was what moved him the most.

Busy with the initial funeral rites and then moving to the burial rites, he conducted everything with grave seriousness.

...…

The burial.

Everyone filled the entire cemetery area.

York stood at the forefront, watching the coffins being lowered one by one, reciting relevant Biblical scriptures about death and rebirth, then calmly spoke.

"Now is the time to say goodbye to our loved ones, let each of us cast this earth upon the graves of the deceased, as our final farewell and expression of grief.

May this soil become their eternal resting place, may they find peace and joy in the embrace of God..."

Under his words, each person picked up a handful of soil and came forward, sprinkling it onto the coffins at the bottom of the pits.

From start to finish, thirty-some coffins.

Amidst the mournful and bleak atmosphere, as the last person scattered their heartfelt farewell to the resting, the time unknowingly approached evening.

The red sunset spilled down, seemingly expressing and soothing everyone.

Standing still as a rock, York exhaled after the soil scattering ceremony was completed, conducting the final—

"Finally, let me pray for everyone present.

May God grant you peace, strength, and hope, let the memories of the deceased be a light

 in our lives.

May God bless you all…"

...............…

Plutarch Church.

"Father York, we'll come again tomorrow." Antonio supported his wife, his face carrying a boisterous, wealthy demeanor, seriously saying,

"We haven't attended a mass in over a decade."

Nostalgia appeared on Antonio's face, his wife Diana gently patted his hand in comfort.

Seeing this, York looked at the lingering crowd around Antonio, already anticipating the result for tomorrow.

It would still be a full house.

With this, he earnestly nodded.

"I look forward to your arrival, Mr. Antonio."

He also expressed his gratitude to Antonio, the generous patron.

Without this generous patron, Plutarch Church would have taken several more days to be presentable.

Otherwise, how could he face people with a damaged statue, worn-out benches, and stained floor-to-ceiling windows?

He had thought it would take several days to address these issues.

But the patron had resolved these troublesome matters in just one day with his money and farmworkers.

Now, apart from its main structure, everything in Plutarch Church was brand new.

After sending off Antonio and his wife, more people came to say goodbye.

Chief Lack and Ryan.

To York, the chief of police for Amara Town seemed completely rejuvenated, appearing very happy.

"Chief Lack, thank you for your promotion."

York naturally did not forget the chief's contributions.

Today's development seemed to have unfolded largely due to the whole town participating.

From the expressions of the town's residents, transitioning from numbness to animation, it proved he could now realistically proceed with his plans.

Starting with Amara Town, gradually spreading worldwide.

So the town's chief of police did indeed play a significant role.

"Oh, no need to thank me! No need at all, Father York." Chief Lack waved his hands as if he would be too embarrassed to continue accepting thanks.

"It's my duty." He said with a smile.

"I found everyone seemed alive."

Chief Lack looked up at Father York, earnestly saying:

"I should be thanking you, Father York, thank you for being here."

Hearing this, York unconsciously avoided the chief's glowing gaze.

"Cough."

What else could he say? He merely coughed instinctively, how was he supposed to respond?

Chief Lack watched the somewhat embarrassed priest and couldn't help but smile again.

This was the kind of clergyman he had imagined.

"Ryan."

Chief Lack, understanding, called to Ryan behind him.

"Show the camcorder to Father."

Ryan, who had been grinning foolishly, suddenly came to his senses and clumsily brought out the camcorder he had filmed.

"What is this?" York raised an eyebrow, already guessing what it was.

Indeed, it was just as he had thought.

"Take a look." Chief Lack stated his intention.

"I want to spread these videos out there, to let everyone know that a real church exists here."

York paused for a moment, looking at the somewhat cautious Chief Lack, feeling genuinely touched.

He had never mentioned anything; it was all the initiative of this somewhat older chief of police, who had promoted it on his own.

A born promoter—how could he possibly refuse? It was a win-win situation, and without even needing to look, York smiled warmly:

"Chief Lack, follow your plan."

York pushed the camcorder back, dismissing the need to watch it himself—it was just a normal funeral service, after all.

But hearing this, Chief Lack got excited,

"Alright, Father York, then I'll get these videos out!"

"Uh-huh." York smiled, showing his support.

With that support, Chief Lack didn't linger any longer, eagerly ready to spread the word, taking the puzzled Ryan with him.

York breathed a sigh of relief, anticipating the outcome.

The time required to complete the mission might even be quicker than he had expected.

Of course, he predicted he'd be busy during this period.

Plutarch Church was beginning to accumulate the power of faith; he needed to research how to convert this faith into divine power for use by Mirta and future clergy.

He also needed to figure out how to create a divine power converter, much like the spells.

Thinking this, York's gaze deepened.

Most importantly, he needed to drive out evil.

Leading everyone to reclaim the areas known in this other world as uninhabited lands and forbidden zones, taking back the formerly fertile territories.

According to Mirta, these areas were where the demons originally rampaged when the rot matured enough for their bodily descent.

"The responsibility is great, but we'll take it slow."

York watched the sunset on the horizon, his expression serene.

Yet the next second, his eyes narrowed slightly, filled with anticipation.

"I just wonder if these so-called forbidden zones are eligible to trigger random missions..."

 "Thank you, generous supporter!"

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