Jiang Lin was in no hurry to speak.
He stood up and moved aside from the doorway, letting Dorian and Cyrus enter.
Dorian pulled fresh water and dry rations from his spatial ring, while Cyrus knelt beside the wounded young man to examine his injury.
“The wound was caused by a scratch from a polluted person,” Cyrus said, looking up and adjusting his glasses. “There are minor signs of pollution, but it hasn't spread to the whole body yet. Can you purify it?”
Jiang Lin walked over and placed his hand on the young man's shoulder.
A wisp of golden Holy Light flowed from his palm and merged into the man's body.
The dark red veins that had just begun to appear receded rapidly under the brilliance of the Holy Light, like shadows dispersed by the sun.
The young man let out a muffled groan, his body trembling violently, and then he let out a long breath, like a drowning person finally breaking the surface.
“Much... much better...”
His voice was still raspy, but his eyes were much clearer than before.
Jiang Lin withdrew his hand and looked around.
The room was too small, cramped with over a dozen people, and the air was so stagnant it was almost suffocating.
Furthermore, there were over a dozen corpses outside that needed to be dealt with, and there might be survivors in other parts of the village.
“Move everyone outside first,” he said to Dorian. “Clear a clean area and have Cyrus check everyone's physical condition. Treat the injured first and purify those with signs of pollution.”
Dorian nodded and turned to leave.
Jiang Lin glanced at the woman holding the child.
The child had fallen asleep in her arms, his small face buried in his mother's chest, completely oblivious to everything happening outside.
The woman looked up, her deep brown eyes fixed on him. Her lips trembled for a moment before she finally whispered, “Thank you.”
Jiang Lin shook his head. “Don't thank me. If you must thank someone, thank the God of Holy Light.”
The woman was taken aback, clearly not understanding what he meant.
Jiang Lin didn't explain and turned to walk out of the house.
Over the next few hours, he conducted a thorough search and cleanup of the village.
There weren't many survivors left; including Eri's group of three and the dozen or so in the house, there were only forty-three in total.
They were settled in an open space under the withered tree at the village entrance. Cyrus checked their physical conditions one by one, while Jiang Lin purified those showing signs of pollution.
The deceased were carried by Dorian and Victor to a depression outside the village and cremated using fire-attribute rune stones.
Flames soared into the sky, and thick smoke drifted in the north wind, carrying a nauseating scent of burnt rot.
The forty-three living natives sat around the withered tree, watching the flames in silence.
Some wept quietly, some lowered their heads without a word, and some clung tightly to their loved ones as if fearing they might suddenly vanish as well.
Mira sat among the crowd; her body hadn't fully recovered, but she was already able to walk on her own.
She looked up at Jiang Lin, who was standing by the withered tree, and suddenly spoke.
“You said before that you are a messenger of the gods. What is the name of your god?”
Jiang Lin looked down at her. “The God of Holy Light.”
“Can... can He protect us?” Mira's voice was very soft, but in the silent village, every word was heard clearly. “Can He keep us from turning into those monsters? Can He make our land grow crops again? Can He let our children grow up in peace?”
Jiang Lin was silent for a moment.
“He can, but this is not a gift given for nothing.”
“You believe in Him because you align with His path.”
“If you walk His path, He will grant you strength.”
“You use the strength He grants to protect what you want to protect. That is faith.”
He paused, his golden eyes sweeping over every native present.
“I am not here to force you into a religion.”
“Whether you believe or not is your own choice.”
“But I want you to know that there are seven Righteous Gods in this world. Their paths are different, but their goal is the same: to protect the order of this world and combat the Chaos that seeks to destroy everything.”
“Seven Righteous Gods?”
An aged voice rang out from the crowd.
Jiang Lin followed the sound to see a gray-haired old man with wrinkles like a dried-up riverbed.
He sat at the very edge of the group, a crude cane resting beside him.
“Which seven?”
“The God of Holy Light, the God of War, the Lord of Arcane, the God of the Hunt, the Goddess of Life, the God of the Dark Moon, and the God of Contracts.”
The old man was silent for a long time.
His clouded eyes watched Jiang Lin as if trying to discern whether his words were true or false.
He spoke slowly, his voice sounding like it was being squeezed from a bellows. “Why are these seven gods willing to protect us?”
“We don't even know who they are. We have never made offerings, never prayed. Why should they protect us?”
Jiang Lin knelt down opposite him, meeting the old man's gaze at eye level.
“Because it is their duty.”
“The duty of the seven Righteous Gods is to maintain the order of this world.”
“The chaotic pollution from the Abyss of Slaughter is the enemy of order. To fight Chaos, they need believers.”
“Believers provide faith, and the gods grant power. It is a mutual relationship, not a handout.”
“So,” the old man's eyes narrowed, “if we believe in them, they give us power. If we don't, they ignore us?”
“It's not that they ignore you, it's that they can't do as much.”
Jiang Lin shook his head.
“The gods are not omnipotent.”
“Their power comes from the faith of their believers. The more believers they have, the more they can do.”
“There are no believers of theirs on this planet. Even if they want to help you, they can't do much.”
“That is why they sent us—to help you establish faith anchors.”
“With an anchor, their power can be projected here.”
The old man fell silent again.
He looked down at his withered hands, which were covered in dark brown age spots and various scars.
“I have lived for seventy-two years,” he said softly. “I have never heard of gods, nor have I seen a messenger of the gods. You are the first.”
Jiang Lin did not interrupt.
The old man looked up at him and suddenly smiled, the expression appearing exceptionally desolate on his wrinkled face.
“But you saved us. Regardless of whether you are a messenger of the gods or not, you saved us. That is enough.”
He stood up from the ground, leaning on his cane, and turned to the villagers who were still sitting in a state of shock.
“Children,” his voice wasn't loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly, “this person saved us. He says he is a messenger of the gods, and I believe him. Whether you believe or not is your own business. But I believe.”
Having said that, he turned back to Jiang Lin. “What do I need to do?”
Jiang Lin stood up. “You don't need to do anything for now.”
“Recover your health first. Once you have settled down, I will build a statue of the God of Holy Light at the village entrance.”
“When that time comes, if you are willing, you can come before the statue to pray. It is not a transaction or an exchange; it is simply giving your heart a direction.”
The old man nodded and asked no more.
Cyrus walked over, adjusted his glasses, and whispered, “There is no safe place left in the village.”
“Some of their houses were destroyed, and others are tainted with the aura of pollutants. They need to be purified before they are habitable. What do we do for tonight?”
“Set up tents.” Jiang Lin looked around. “The open space at the village entrance is clean enough. Let them stay here overnight. Tomorrow, we start clearing and purifying the houses—we'll make as many habitable as we can.”
Cyrus nodded and went to make the arrangements.
Dorian had already set up several tents in the clearing. They were military-issue tents taken from his spatial ring, waterproof and windproof, each capable of housing four or five people.
Victor had found several bundles of dry wood from somewhere and started a fire in the center of the clearing.
The flames danced in the twilight, casting flickering light on the faces of those around it.
Night deepened.
The night sky of Caeous was completely different from that of the East Continent.
There was no moon, only two tiny, dim satellites hanging in the sky like two pieces of charcoal about to go out.
There were many stars, far more than in the East Continent, densely covering the entire canopy. Some stars were a faint red, like congealed drops of blood.
Jiang Lin withdrew his gaze and looked at the natives by the fire.
They were no longer as terrified as they had been in the afternoon.
Some were taking dry rations from Selene and eating in small bites.
Some were holding children, softly humming unknown lullabies.
Some leaned against each other with closed eyes, though it was unclear if they were asleep or lost in thought.
Eri sat by the fire, holding a piece of hard bread and breaking it into small pieces to put into his mouth.
His body hadn't fully recovered, but his spirit was much better than in the afternoon. His dark red eyes had completely returned to their normal deep brown, making him look no different from an ordinary person.
“Lord... Jiang Lin,” he hesitated before adding the title “Lord,” “I want to ask you something.”
“Speak.”
“You said that believing in the God of Holy Light is not a transaction or an exchange.”
“If we believe in Him, what can He give us?”
“I mean... besides healing and strength, what else is there?”
The flames by the fire danced, stretching Jiang Lin's shadow long against the trunk of the withered ancient tree behind him.
He didn't answer Eri's question immediately, instead glancing at the surrounding natives.
Though they were busy with their own tasks, their ears were pricked up, clearly waiting for his answer.
Jiang Lin picked up a small twig from beside the fire and poked at the dying embers. Sparks flew up, drawing several brief arcs in the air.
“That is a very good question.”
He tossed the twig into the fire and brushed the dust off his hands.
“What can the God of Holy Light give you? I can think of three main things.”
He held up his first finger.
“First, healing. Not just physical wounds, but spiritual ones as well. How did it feel when the Holy Light touched you today?”
Eri thought for a moment and said slowly, “It felt like someone pulled me out of the water.”
“I didn't even realize I had been drowning until I was pulled out. Only then did I realize that every breath I took before was choking me.”
Jiang Lin nodded.
“That is the spiritual healing of the Holy Light's power.”
“Pollution erodes not just your body, but your mind as well.”
“The power of Holy Light can clear the pollution and repair the eroded trauma.”
“While it's impossible to return exactly to how you were before being polluted, it can at least allow you to be human again.”
He held up a second finger.
“Second, strength. Not strength to bully others, but strength to protect yourself and your family.”
“Why did your village end up like this?”
“It wasn't because you weren't hard-working enough, or because you weren't brave enough. it was because what you faced was far beyond your ability to handle.”
“With the strength granted by the God, the next time you encounter pollution, you at least won't be completely defenseless.”
Eri's eyes lit up, but they soon dimmed again.
“But you said faith isn't a transaction...”
“Correct.” Jiang Lin held up a third finger. “So the third thing, and the most important, isn't a physical object, but a direction.”
He paused, seemingly organizing his words.
“When you ran out from the north, did you know where you were running?”
“Yes,” Eri answered without hesitation. “South. As far away from that rift as possible.”
“And if there were no rift, no pollution, and no monsters, where would you go?”
Eri opened his mouth, then closed it again.
He didn't know.
He had lived for over twenty years, staying in this village since birth, working at sunrise and resting at sunset.
He knew where the game was, which stream had drinkable water, and which hillside had edible wild vegetables.
But he had never thought about where he wanted to go.
“That is faith,” Jiang Lin said.
“It isn't something you only think of when you're in danger.”
“It is the lamp that tells you which way to go when all is peaceful and well.”
He stood up and brushed the dust off his pants.
“The path of the God of Holy Light is one of order, protection, and hope.”
“You believe in Him not because He can cure your illnesses or make you strong, but because you align with these three words.”
“You believe the world should have order, you believe the weak should be protected, and you believe that no matter how dark the moment, one should hold onto a sliver of hope.”
“If you align with these, then you are walking the path of Holy Light.”
“As for the healing and strength He grants you, those are the funds and rations He gives you while you walk that path. They are the means, not the end.”
Eri fell silent for a long time.
The wood in the fire had mostly burned down, the vigorous flames turning into a soft glow before becoming a pile of dark red embers.
Cyrus added a few more logs to the fire, and new flames leaped up, illuminating the faces of those around once more.
“I think... I understand a little now.” Eri looked up, his deep brown eyes exceptionally bright in the firelight. “It's not that I believe in Him because of what He can give me, but because I believe in Him, He can give me those things.”
“That's essentially it.”
Jiang Lin said no more.
Some things were useless to explain further; one had to think them through for themselves.
Faith was not something that could be forced.
...
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