The White Tower

Crown Square was the most brilliant pearl of Rhine City.

Located in the Crown District at the heart of Rhine City, it was adjacent to administrative buildings like the city hall, commercial plazas, and transit centers. It was also dotted with numerous commercial structures, giving the square a sense of vitality amidst its solemnity.

Yet among the surrounding buildings, the most eye-catching was the striking cluster of structures on the east side of the square.

Its official name was the Church District, colloquially known as the Kingdom of Faith.

The cathedrals of the Four Major Churches, along with the worship halls of the other eight major god churches, were all concentrated here.

Compared to the Black Night Cathedral, which was dominated by black and gold accents, the most prominent building in the Church District was the Church of Wealth. Dedicated to Tina, the Lord of Wealth, it was resplendent and oozed affluence.

Until the mid-Fifth Age, the Church of Wealth wasn't actually considered a major church. Although it had many believers, its status was not high. However, over the past three hundred years, and especially the last fifty-odd years since the popularization of the steam engine, the scale of the Church of Wealth had skyrocketed, and its number of believers had grown exponentially, astonishing many.

The tide of history was unstoppable; there was nothing to be surprised about.

Lynch curled his lip and bypassed the Fountain of Grace, where throwing in a penny was said to bring good luck. He glared fiercely at the coins blanketing the bottom before leaving the pool behind without looking back.

‘Hmph, in the future, I'll also build a church to sell indulgences and rake in a fortune.’

【Not a good idea, Lynch. Churches tried that during the Mythological Era, but with competitors, it was useless.】

‘Tsk, what a shame. This is an era of polytheism.’

Equally golden and glittering was the Cathedral of the Blazing Sun of the Sun Church. Compared to the dark gold of the Church of Wealth, the Cathedral of the Blazing Sun was even more dazzling. The conduct of the Sun Church's believers was often just like their doctrine—hot-tempered and ostentatious, which was quite repulsive.

At least, it repulsed Lynch.

Giving a meaningful glare to the gold-robed priest preaching loudly at the cathedral's entrance, Lynch was about to quicken his pace and leave when a voice from behind caught his attention.

“Sir, please slow down and listen to the voice of the great Sun God, Sol.”

Who was the unlucky sucker that got targeted by a missionary? They must look like a total pushover, hehe.

Lynch didn't pay it any mind. He simply curled his lip, chuckling maliciously as he sped up.

“Sir, please wait.”

The voice actually sounded closer, giving Lynch a bad feeling.

Wait, don't tell me that unlucky sucker is me.

Your Sun God isn't as great as my Crimson Moon. Not interested, scram.

Lynch turned a deaf ear, quickening his pace even further in an attempt to shake off the voice behind him.

“Mr. Lynch Levive, please stop. There is an unclean aura about you.”

Hmm? He's targeting me? And unclean?

Lynch's face darkened, and he came to a halt.

He didn't take this as mere missionary rhetoric.

What did “unclean” mean? Was he referring to the aura of the Swelling Daughter?

In the small world, the court arcanist Moliere had once accidentally admitted that he was the one who arranged the accident to burn the files. According to Miss Valente's analysis, the ones who actually carried it out were likely from the Sun Church.

This indicated that the Sun Church probably knew about his movements. Were they in league with each other, or were they just using one another?

Stopping me openly on the street now, what are they trying to do?

Turning around slowly, Lynch looked at the person running toward him.

It was a middle-aged priest in a gold robe, in his thirties or forties. Because of the robe, it was impossible to tell if his build matched the mysterious arsonist from the day before yesterday.

He looked honest and simple, just like an ordinary middle-aged man.

However, the stinging pain in his glabella made Lynch realize this man was anything but ordinary. He was at least a rank four or higher Soul Severer. Had the Sun Church become so extravagant that they placed a mid-tier Soul Severer at their doorstep to attract customers... to preach?

“Unclean? So what?” Lynch squinted and asked noncommittally as the man ran up to him. “Do you want to help me take a bath?”

“The Lord is all-loving and willing to open His arms to all lost lambs. As long as you sincerely repent to the Lord, confess the sins you have committed, and sever your ties with the unclean, we are willing to cleanse you of your impurity and return you to the Lord's embrace.”

So they're here to make a show of force.

Lynch felt a surge of anger rise in his chest.

Burning my things and blowing up my house for no reason, and now coming to show off to my face. Heh, sincere repentance? Who should be the one sincerely repenting? And confessing sins? How arrogant. Who do you think you are?

If he weren't still waiting for the results of Miss Valente's investigation to find concrete proof that the Sun Church was behind it, the two of them would have already paid them a visit. But that didn't mean they could tolerate such blatant offense in the meantime, especially since Lynch now represented more than just himself. He stopped playing nice and said coldly:

“Since when is it the place of Sol's followers to question what a Soul Severer of the red moon does?” He slammed his cane onto the ground, his expression turning colder. “Repent to him? Is he even qualified? Are you blaspheming the crimson moonlight?”

The gold-robed priest choked on his words and shut his mouth, not daring to speak recklessly.

Who doesn't know how to label others? Did they really think my past online flame wars were just for show? Lynch sneered:

“You say I am unclean? You want me to repent of my sins? Heh, fine. Let me officially give you your answer. As a Soul Severer of the Lady of the Red Moon, my heart and actions are as clear as a mirror, and everything I do is holy. Anyone who questions my purity is blaspheming the crimson moon. So, I will give you a chance now. Tell me, do the followers of the Sun God, Sol, intend to publicly blaspheme a fallen god and officially declare war on the fallen god's Soul Severers?”

“I...” The gold-robed priest took a step back, even more afraid to speak.

“Heh, unclean, repentance. Do you know what I am about to do? Why don't you come with me and speak of my impurity and sins right in front of Mrs. Nightingale? So that those patients waiting for me to save their lives can die in greater numbers?”

The accusations were piling up. Now too terrified to even speak, the gold-robed priest took another step back, his expression turning into quite a sight.

“Heh, no longer want to cleanse me of my impurity? Then I'll be off. I have no idea how many people are waiting for me to save their lives.”

Lynch turned around with a cold sneer, throwing a look back as he said:

“Next time you want to talk to me, learn how to speak like a human first. Otherwise, I won't understand you.”

With that, Lynch scoffed and walked away without looking back, leaving the gold-robed priest frozen in place with a distorted expression.

In truth, Lynch knew the man must have had a purpose in stopping him. If he had humbled himself and cooperated, he might have learned more inside information. However, Lynch had no intention of tolerating their arrogance. It was fine to target him, but trying to have a conversation after burning down his friend's house? They had to learn how to communicate like decent human beings first.

Letting out a cold snort, Lynch collected his emotions and restored his gentle expression, for the Temple of Suffering of Fiona, the Lord of Suffering and Pain, had appeared before him.

It was a white, tower-shaped cathedral, filled with a holy and solemn atmosphere. A red ouroboros design hung at the entrance—the holy emblem of the Church of Suffering.

The Church of Suffering had the most worship halls because its halls also served as hospitals, which allowed the Church of Suffering to harvest a vast number of believers.

However, at the main cathedral in the Crown District, the daily traffic was far less than that of the other three churches, making it appear somewhat deserted by comparison.

Just like the Sun Church, several clerics in white holy robes were handing out flyers.

They were all young girls wearing form-fitting robes with cinched waists, looking quite similar to the nurse uniforms of his past life. Brimming with youthful vitality, they pulled passersby over and stuffed missionary flyers into their hands.

The problem was that there were barely any passersby to begin with. The moment they saw Lynch, the girls' eyes lit up, and they quickly surrounded him.

“Sir, sir, please donate some money for the medical expenses of Rhine City's homeless. Even a few pennies would help!”

“Sir, please participate in the donation drive for steam workers' occupational diseases.”

“Sir, sir, save the children! The number of homeless street urchins in Rhine is increasing every year. Please donate some money to help them!”

Holy crap, so this is actually the most terrifying place. No wonder it's the most deserted—anyone passing through would have a layer of skin peeled off!

Lynch's face turned green. Clutching his pockets, he took off running, leaving the young girls stamping their feet in frustration behind him.

“Sir, sir.”

There's more? This time, the voice came from the side.

“You dropped this money, didn't you? I picked it up for you.”

“That's right, it's mine.”

The response slipped out automatically, and he instinctively stopped in his tracks. When Lynch turned his head, he saw that he was about to run past the cathedral entrance. A kind-faced elderly woman was smiling, waving a one-penny coin at him.

Hiss, Mrs. Nightingale, please do not do things that do not match your status. Is it appropriate for someone of your standing to trick people with a mere one-penny coin?

At least use a one-pound gold coin!

“Ahem.” Although his face was slightly red, Lynch still very naturally snatched the penny and pocketed it. “Why are you standing outside?”

“Otherwise, someone would have run right past,” the elderly woman said, nodding with satisfaction as she looked at Lynch. “I am very glad to see that you were truly willing to come. Mordiggian's power has already begun to manifest, and patients have appeared. Time waits for no one, but I must still warn you first: the risk of helping is very high, and... there is no reward.”

“Isn't it just contributing a little bit of blood?”

“When it comes to the Great Old Ones, how could it ever be that simple? Physically, indeed, it only requires some blood, but occultly, it is far more complex.” The elderly woman sighed, patting Lynch's arm. “You are a good boy, so I do not want to hide the danger from you. Come inside first, and we shall talk within. I will tell you the details. You can listen and consider whether you want to take this risk for these innocent people.”