Silver Oak City

Then the stone platform itself cracked, collapsed, and sank inward from the edges.

In less than ten breaths, the entire teleportation array turned into a pile of rubble-like debris.

It was completely ruined.

Jiang Lin squatted down, brushed aside the rubble, and checked. Confirming there was no possibility of repair, he stood up and clapped the dust off his hands.

He was not panicked, as he had already prepared before coming.

The teleportation array back at his manor was perfectly intact; as long as he set up a corresponding array disc on this end, he could return at any time.

Furthermore, he had already modified the array on that side to be two-way; he just had not had the time to carve the other half in this world yet.

He took one last look at the pile of rubble, then turned and walked forward along the sewer.

Occasionally, dark red, dried-up stains could be seen on the stone walls on both sides, though it was unclear whether they were left by wastewater or something else.

The silt beneath his feet grew thinner, gradually turning into dry, gravel-paved hard ground.

The light ahead also began to brighten, gradually transitioning from pitch-black darkness to a hazy gray.

After walking for about fifteen minutes, steps leading upward appeared ahead.

The stairs were very narrow, allowing only one person to pass at a time. The walls on both sides were cleaner than those in the sewer, but still covered with a thin layer of damp moisture.

He stepped up the stone stairs. After about thirty steps, he reached an iron grated door at the end of the stairway.

The door was unlocked and left ajar. The hinges were heavily rusted, letting out a piercing screech as it was pushed open.

He pushed the iron grated door open, returning to the light of day.

Sunlight fell upon his face, carrying a warm breeze that felt different from the Royal Capital.

He squinted, took a moment to adjust to the light, and then looked around.

He was standing at the end of a narrow alley.

High brick walls rose on both sides of the alley, covered in climbing vines that shimmered with a glossy green in the afternoon sun.

Outside the alley entrance was a paved stone road, where pedestrians occasionally walked past, their footsteps steady and rhythmic.

He walked out of the alley, truly stepping onto the streets of this city.

Then, he froze for a moment.

This city was completely different from the “secret cult kingdom” he had imagined.

He had originally expected to see oppression, to be enveloped in fear, with even the air carrying a suffocating gloom. However, everything before his eyes looked perfectly normal.

The streets were wide and clean, with most of the buildings on either side being three-story brick-and-stone structures. Laundry hung out to dry on the balconies, alongside a few pots of flowers and plants.

A fruit vendor squatted behind his stall, calling out to passersby. In the wooden crate before him, orange-yellow fruits were piled high, their skins still glistening with water droplets.

A few laborers in coarse cloth clothes sat drinking tea outside a corner teahouse. Their laughter and chatter occasionally drifted over, their tones relaxed and casual.

A few children chased a leather ball right past Jiang Lin, running until they were drenched in sweat, giggling happily.

Not only was the overall atmosphere not oppressive, but it also carried an incredibly ordinary, bustling charm of everyday life.

Jiang Lin stood by the roadside, falling silent for a moment.

Before coming out of the sewer, he had actually prepared himself mentally for all kinds of scenarios.

Either being questioned by patrolling cultists, or finding empty streets where everyone lived in fear, or having weapons poke out from behind windows at any moment.

But there was none of that.

The scene here was almost indistinguishable from any ordinary town near the Royal Capital. In fact, because the sunlight was brighter and the streets were cleaner, it looked even more comfortable than many average towns.

He set off down the street, continuing his observations.

The expressions of the pedestrians on the street were also quite normal.

An elderly woman carrying a vegetable basket strolled leisurely, her basket holding a few carrots and a handful of green vegetables.

A middle-aged man squatted in front of his door, repairing a chair with a crooked leg, humming an unfamiliar tune.

A few young men wearing short-sleeved tunics squatted on the roadside steps, using a local dialect to complain that a certain restaurant's stew portion yesterday was too small.

“An outsider?”

A voice came from the side.

Jiang Lin turned his head and saw a flatbread vendor flipping flatbreads on an iron griddle with metal tongs. The vendor glanced up at him.

It was a plump man in his fifties, wearing a faded white apron, with the casual indifference of someone accustomed to seeing strangers.

“Just passing through,” Jiang Lin replied in the local tongue.

Before coming, he had spent a few days practicing his pronunciation and intonation. Although his accent was not perfectly native, it was more than enough for daily communication.

The vendor swept his gaze up and down him, his eyes lingering for a brief moment on his disguised, gaunt face. Perhaps thinking that he did not look very friendly, the vendor asked one more question:

“Where are you from?”

“The south,” Jiang Lin replied vaguely. “Visiting relatives.”

The vendor nodded, not pressing further, and flipped a flatbread:

“Want some flatbread? It's fresh and hot.”

Jiang Lin took out a copper coin, handed it over, and took a bite of the flatbread he received.

The crust was crispy, and the filling of green onions and minced meat tasted surprisingly good.

He ate the flatbread slowly, in no hurry to leave, just standing in front of the stall as his gaze casually swept across the street.

“Say,” he said after swallowing a bite, speaking in a conversational tone. “It seems quite... peaceful around here.”

“Peaceful?” The vendor snorted, tapping the iron griddle with his tongs. “Peaceful, sure, but the taxes are a bit heavy. They collected twice last month, and they say they're going to collect again this month.”

“Twice?” Jiang Lin showed just the right amount of surprise. “How can anyone survive like that?”

“How else? We just pay what we must,” the vendor replied, flipping another flatbread. “Once we pay, we still eat and drink. It's not like they're starving us. Besides, after we pay taxes, the Church gives out subsidies. Grain, fabric, salt, and things like that are distributed every festival. If you add it up, we don't actually lose much.”

Jiang Lin took a thoughtful bite of his flatbread:

“The Church actually hands out supplies?”

“Of course they do.”

The vendor looked at him as if his question was far too ignorant, his tone carrying a hint of “how could you not know this.”

“What mountain valley in the south did you crawl out of? Every spring planting and autumn harvest, the Church distributes seeds and farming tools. During holidays, they even give food vouchers to orphans and widows. Otherwise, where do you think all the beggars in this city went? They were all taken in by the Church.”

“Taken in?”

“They provide for them. Those with no relatives and no way to make a living are taken in by the Church. They're given housing and jobs.” The vendor spoke in a flat tone, as if stating the most common fact. “You didn't think the Church only collects taxes, did you?”

Jiang Lin chewed his flatbread, not replying immediately.

He felt that terms like “taken in” and “given housing” carried a slightly strange connotation, but the vendor's tone held no wariness or fear, only a casual composure as if it were entirely natural.

He changed the subject:

“Is the Church... usually crowded?”

“Very. The grand cathedral to the south—just keep walking down the main street and you'll see it. People go there to pray every single day.” The vendor lifted the last flatbread from the griddle and placed it in a nearby basket. “If it's on your way, you should go take a look. It doesn't cost anything to enter; you just light a lamp.”

Jiang Lin stuffed the last bite of flatbread into his mouth, brushed the crumbs off his hands, thanked the vendor, and walked in the direction pointed out to him.

He indeed wanted to see it for himself.

After turning past two streets, his field of vision suddenly opened up.

A grand cathedral built of grayish-white stone appeared at the end of the street. Above the main entrance was a massive emblem made of twisted lines, gleaming with a dull luster in the afternoon sun.

People bustled back and forth across the plaza in front of the cathedral. Some walked through the main doors with lowered heads, while others emerged from the side doors holding various items in their hands.

Jiang Lin was in no hurry to enter.

He stood under a plane tree at the edge of the plaza for a moment, observing the people going in and out.

Their expressions were generally peaceful, and some even carried a gentle, almost serene look.

A young woman walked in holding a baby and came out carrying a small sack of grain.

An old man paused at the entrance for a moment before slowly pushing the door open to enter. When he came out again, his face wore a look of deep relief.

He stepped inside.

The cathedral's interior was even more spacious than he had imagined.

The vaulted ceiling loomed high above, and stained glass windows on both sides filtered the light into dim, warm colors, casting mottled shadows across the floor.

In the center stood a black stone statue. It was far more exquisite and detailed than the Demon God statues he had seen on Caeous. It depicted a robed humanoid figure with hands folded over its chest. Though its face was blurred, it exuded a sense of tranquil gaze.

Dozens of people sat on the pews before the statue. Some had their heads bowed with closed eyes, some had their hands clasped in prayer, and others simply sat in silence.

A faint scent of incense resembling sandalwood drifted through the air—not overpowering, but pleasant.

Jiang Lin sat down in a row near the back, quietly sitting for a moment like the people around him.

He felt extremely faint energy fluctuations radiating from the direction of the statue. He was very familiar with this kind of fluctuation.

It was identical to the Demon God statues he had encountered on Caeous, only gentler and more lingering. It was not like the blazing desert sun, but rather like the dying embers of a winter fireplace.

Yet, this very gentleness sent a subtle chill through his heart.

He sat in the cathedral for about fifteen minutes before standing up to leave.

Returning to the plaza, the sunlight was still bright.

He walked halfway around the perimeter of the plaza and stopped before a bulletin board covered in various notices.

On the wall were job postings, trade notices, announcements from the Church, and a hand-drawn map labeled “Map of This City.”

The map was not particularly detailed, but the layout of the streets and major landmarks were clearly marked.

His gaze followed the lines on the map, finding his current location.

“Silver Oak City,” a town with a population of about twenty thousand to the west of the Ash Mountains, belonging to the “Twilight Kingdom,” one of the four secret cult nations.

His gaze continued to drift across the map, roughly identifying several routes leading toward the border before he turned and walked back onto the street.

The afternoon sun had dipped slightly, and the crowd on the street was thinner than it had been at noon.

He found a small herbal tea stall by the roadside and sat down, ordering a bowl of brown, herbal-scented tea. He sipped it slowly, organizing the information he had gathered today in his mind.

The rulers of this city clearly understood one thing:

If they wanted to harvest souls for sacrifice over the long term, they had to ensure the health and stability of their “livestock.”

The secret cult's approach was to use a seemingly gentle welfare system to guarantee the populace's reliance and obedience.

Seeds, farming tools, grain, fabric, housing the helpless...

These measures led ordinary people to unconsciously form the perception that “the Church is our safeguard.”

Once this perception solidified, mental control followed naturally.

The energy fluctuation he felt in the cathedral today was highly likely a slow, insidious form of spiritual erosion.

It was painless and did not trigger alarm, but over time, people would be unknowingly guided into a predetermined path.

There was no tyranny, no fear, only a control so gentle that it was hard to refuse—like a velvet-gloved hand gently yet firmly guiding everyone's souls in the same direction.

Jiang Lin sat on the low stool of the herbal tea stall, his coarse earthenware bowl already empty, with a few boiled herbal dregs resting at the bottom.

He set the bowl down, took out two copper coins and slid them under the rim, then stood up and left the stall.

The afternoon sun cast long, faint shadows of the pedestrians onto the stone road.

He walked slowly along the street, his mind still revolving around those thoughts.

This city was indeed peaceful.

The flatbread vendor was right. The Church distributed seeds, tools, grain, and fabric, and even widows and orphans had a place to be taken in.

On the surface, this was a well-functioning society where the people lived and worked in peace and contentment.

The people entering the cathedral to pray wore expressions not of fear, but of calm and even serenity.

But looking at it from another angle, this situation had persisted for countless generations in this secret cult kingdom.

Those who went to pray in the cathedral had grown up in this system from birth. They had never seen any other way of life, so they naturally saw nothing wrong with it.

Even the previous generation had grown up in such an environment.

Thus, they would not feel controlled; they would only believe this was simply how life was.

As for those who were “taken in.”

Jiang Lin recalled the vendor's words. The Church took in those without relatives or livelihoods, arranging housing and work for them.

It sounded like benevolent governance, but if one thought about it carefully, where did those people go, what did they do, and were they ever allowed to leave? The vendor had not said, and Jiang Lin had no way to investigate.

Even if he found out, what could he do?

Overthrow the rule of the secret cults?

Alone, at the 5th-Rank early stage, he stood no chance against a kingdom backed by a 9th-rank powerhouse.

Change these people's perceptions?

They had been in this system since birth. The Church gave them a stable life and decent security. If someone suddenly ran out and told them, “You are being controlled,” they would only be treated as a lunatic.

He had neither the reason nor the ability to change any of this.

Those people indeed did not live poorly, and he had neither the strength nor the stance to overthrow the rule of the secret cult. Forcing an intervention would only bring chaos and casualties.

He would just mind his own business.

...