The moment the light enveloped them, the three individuals shuddered simultaneously.
The dark red veins on their faces and arms began to recede, and the bloodshot patterns in their eyes gradually faded.
The woman among them let out a low groan, like a drowning person finally breaking the surface, gasping for air.
"This... what is this..."
Her voice was raspy and trembling, and she spoke in a language that did not belong to any Jiang Lin knew.
However, Jiang Lin understood her perfectly.
In that moment, his Apostle Brand grew slightly warm, and a strange sensation flooded his mind.
He could "understand" her words, and he could "speak" them as well.
"This is Holy Light," Jiang Lin replied in the language of Caeous. "It can purify the pollution inside your body."
The woman looked up, the dark red in her eyes having mostly receded to reveal deep brown irises.
She stared at Jiang Lin, then at the golden orb of light floating above their heads, her lips trembling violently.
"Help... help us..."
There was a sob in her voice.
Without hesitation, Jiang Lin slowly lowered the orb of Holy Light, letting it fully envelop the three of them.
The golden radiance grew brighter, and the dark red veins within their bodies vanished at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Expressions of pain crossed their faces, but it was a pain mingled with relief, as if a long-endured torture was finally being released.
This process lasted for about ten minutes.
When the last trace of dark red veins vanished from the female Elf's fingertips, the orb of Holy Light dimmed, shattered, and dissipated into countless tiny golden sparks.
The three of them collapsed at once, slumped on the ground and gasping for breath.
"How do you feel?"
Jiang Lin knelt down and looked at the woman.
She looked up, his reflection clear in her deep brown eyes.
Her face was weathered, with protruding cheekbones and sunken eyes, her skin as rough as tree bark.
Yet, from the contours of her features, it was clear she wasn't old—perhaps not even thirty.
"Much... much better." Her voice was still raspy, but much clearer than before. "That... that feeling of wanting to tear everything apart... it's gone..."
"How were you polluted?" Jiang Lin asked.
The woman remained silent for a moment, seemingly struggling to remember.
"Seven days ago... or maybe eight... I don't remember... a crack opened in the northern sky, and a black wind blew out from it.
"Many people in our village collapsed. Some died, and some became... became monsters that only knew how to kill..."
At this point, her voice began to shake.
"The three of us ran. We ran south, kept running south. But that feeling just kept getting stronger, more uncontrollable. I thought we were going to turn into monsters too... and then you came..."
She looked up, her deep brown eyes fixed on Jiang Lin.
"Are you a god?"
Jiang Lin was taken aback for a moment, then shook his head.
"No. I am a messenger of the gods."
"A messenger of the gods..."
She repeated the words softly, a flicker of confusion in her eyes.
Jiang Lin thought for a moment and explained in the simplest terms possible.
"I am an apostle of the God of Holy Light. His power can dispel darkness, heal pain, and purify pollution.
"If you believe in these gods as we do, they can protect your world, grant power to their believers, and cleanse evil."
The woman nodded, seemingly understanding only half of it.
The older man behind her suddenly spoke, his voice dry.
"If we believe in your god, can we be protected? Can we be kept from turning into monsters?"
"Yes," Jiang Lin answered firmly. "But faith is not a transaction. You believe in Him not because of what He can give you, but because you align with His path. The path of the God of Holy Light is one of order, protection, and hope. If you are willing to walk this path, He will grant you strength."
The man was silent for a long time. Then, he pushed himself off the ground and stumbled toward Jiang Lin, falling to his knees with a thud.
"I believe," he said, his voice raspy but resolute. "As long as I don't have to become one of those monsters, as long as I can protect my family, I'll believe in anything."
Jiang Lin looked at him and didn't speak immediately.
He reached out and placed his hand on the man's head.
A wisp of gentle Holy Light flowed from his palm into the man's body.
He wasn't granting power, but checking the man's physical condition.
The pollution had indeed been cleared, but the traces of erosion remained.
His meridians were damaged and his spirit was traumatized; he would need time to recover.
"What is your name?" Jiang Lin withdrew his hand.
"Eri," the man looked up. "My name is Eri."
"Eri, your body still needs to recover. For now, the three of you will come with us. Once you have fully recovered, then we can discuss faith."
Eri blinked in surprise. "You're not making me believe right now?"
"Faith is not a game; it's not just kneeling, bowing, and reciting a few prayers." Jiang Lin stood up. "You need to understand what the God of Holy Light represents, His doctrines, and what it means to walk this path. Once you've thought it through, then you can decide."
Eri opened his mouth but found no words.
Dorian, who had been standing to the side in silence, hadn't spoken, but Jiang Lin noticed a subtle change in the way the veteran looked at him.
Cyrus, on the other hand, had no particular reaction. He simply walked over to the three locals, pulled a pale green potion from his robe pocket, and handed it to them.
"Drink this. It will help you recover your strength."
Victor remained hidden.
Jiang Lin looked up at the northern sky.
The color there was deeper than elsewhere, like a bruise pressed against the face of the sky.
That rift was in that direction.
"Let's go," he said, withdrawing his gaze. "Take us to your village. Let's save more people who need help."
The group set off toward the village Eri had described.
The three locals led the way, their steps still somewhat unsteady but much better than before.
Eri walked at the front, occasionally glancing back at Jiang Lin with an unreadable expression—a mix of unease and a cautious, fragile hope.
The other two locals followed behind him, a young man and a young woman, both in their early twenties.
The man was named Koen, tall and thin, with an old scar running diagonally from his temple to his jaw, appearing to be a blade wound.
The woman was named Mira, the one who had spoken first. Her deep brown eyes were bright, and despite the inhuman torture she had endured, a stubborn spark of life remained in them.
"How far is your village from here?" Cyrus walked beside Jiang Lin, still holding his crystal slide and checking the readings from time to time.
"On foot, it takes most of a day," Eri replied, then paused to add, "It used to be that way. Now... I'm not sure. When we ran, the village was already in chaos."
"How many people?"
"Over a hundred households, fewer than five hundred people," Eri's voice dropped. "But those... those who turned into monsters have already killed many. At least thirty or forty had completely lost control by the time we escaped."
Cyrus didn't ask further, simply pushing up his glasses and looking down at the fluctuating numbers on the crystal slide.
Jiang Lin kept his Space Perception maintained at its maximum range.
Though these hills were desolate, they were not entirely devoid of life.
Deep underground, there were faint life fluctuations as small as earthworms, and further away, he could occasionally sense small rodents scurrying through the shrubs in a panic.
Mira suddenly spoke, her voice very soft.
"This place... it didn't used to be like this.
"When I was little, there were trees on these hills, grass, rabbits, and deer.
"Then... slowly, the grass began to wither, the trees began to die, and the animals grew fewer.
"The elders said it was that 'Filth' to the north sucking the life out of this land."
"The Filth?" Dorian spoke for the first time, his voice low.
"That... that rift." Mira looked up toward the north, a flash of terror in her deep brown eyes. "After it appeared, everything changed. The color of the sky changed, the wind began to smell strange, and the soil turned red. Some say the Hell's Gate has opened."
"If your devotion is enough to move the gods, they will manifest a miracle and close that Hell's Gate," Jiang Lin said.
Hearing this, a glimmer of hope appeared in the eyes of the locals.
...
After walking for about two hours, the terrain ahead began to change.
The hills gradually leveled out, replaced by a low-lying valley.
In the center of the valley was a small stream; the water was turbid but still flowing.
There were scattered fields along the banks, planted with a crop Jiang Lin didn't recognize—stunted plants with yellowing leaves that looked half-dead.
"We're here." Eri stopped and pointed into the depths of the valley. "That's our village."
Jiang Lin looked in the direction he was pointing.
It was a small village.
Most of the houses were wooden, some were semi-subterranean, with roofs covered in hay and mud.
At the village entrance stood a massive withered tree, its trunk so thick it would take three or four people to encircle it. But it was dead, its bare branches reaching toward the sky like skeletal arms.
The village was silent.
Abnormally silent.
No cooking smoke, no voices, no crowing roosters or barking dogs.
Only the wind whistled through the valley, rattling the half-closed doors with a creaking sound.
"Something's wrong."
Dorian's hand was already on his short sword.
Victor's figure silently emerged from the left side of the team.
Jiang Lin's Space Perception had already swept ahead.
Beneath that withered tree at the village entrance lay a dozen corpses scattered about.
Some had been disemboweled, some had their necks snapped, and others were covered in bite marks and claw scratches.
The blood had dried into dark brown stains, soaking into the soil and emitting a heavy scent of rust.
Eri's voice came from behind, trembling violently.
"When I ran... they were still okay..."
Jiang Lin didn't speak. He simply knelt down to examine the nearest corpse.
It was a middle-aged man in coarse linen clothes, barefoot, with a chest wound that looked as if it had been torn open by sharp claws.
The edges of the wound were lined with dark red veins, identical to the ones Eri and the others had.
But those veins were no longer writhing; they had solidified into a hard, scab-like substance.
"The pollution completely eroded their minds, and then... they slaughtered each other." Cyrus knelt by another corpse, bringing his crystal slide close to the dark red veins. A string of red numbers flashed on the slide. "The one or few who survived must have headed north."
Jiang Lin stood up, his gaze sweeping over the deathly silent village.
Over a hundred households, fewer than five hundred people. Now, only a dozen or so lay here.
Where were the rest? Had they fled, turned into monsters and gone north, or... were they still in the village?
His Space Perception expanded again, more carefully this time, not missing a single house, alley, or corner where someone might hide.
Then, in a semi-subterranean house at the furthest end of the village, he caught a faint heartbeat.
"There are survivors."
He withdrew his perception and walked in that direction.
Dorian and Victor followed on either side of him, while Cyrus brought up the rear, already gripping several rune stones in his hand.
The semi-subterranean house was at the deepest part of the village, lower than the others, with its roof almost level with the ground.
The door was a heavy wooden plank, braced from the inside by something.
Jiang Lin gave it a push, but it didn't budge.
"Something is blocking it from the inside."
He glanced sideways at Dorian.
Dorian stepped forward and delivered a kick to the door.
The heavy wooden door exploded inward, shattering into pieces and revealing the pitch-black room inside.
A draft of air, a mixture of blood, sweat, and a certain rotten-sweet scent, billowed out from within.
Jiang Lin raised his right hand, a wisp of Holy Light igniting at his fingertips to illuminate the interior.
About a dozen people were huddled inside.
Men, women, old, and young; the smallest was held in a woman's arms, appearing to be less than two years old.
They were shrunk into the furthest corner of the room, some shivering, some weeping, and others with eyes as hollow as stagnant water.
Closest to the door was a young man holding a wooden pole that had been sharpened at one end.
He was covered in blood, with a deep wound on his arm that was still seeping.
Yet his eyes were not glazed; they were fixed on the doorway like those of a beast driven into a corner.
Seeing Jiang Lin's face, he froze.
"You... you aren't a monster?"
The young man's voice was so raspy it was barely audible.
"No." Jiang Lin extinguished the Holy Light and knelt down to meet the man's gaze. "I am here to help you."
The young man stared at him for several breaths. The wooden pole slowly lowered, and then he seemed to lose all his strength, collapsing onto the floor and beginning to weep silently.
Seeing that Jiang Lin meant no harm, the others behind him began to cry as well.
The suppressed, trembling sobs, squeezed from the depths of their chests, echoed through the small room.
...
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