A mage? A spell engineer!

Chapter 147 Sacred Action

Several days have passed, and Mr. Mike's interviewee—a former miner who lost one arm and one leg in the explosion and collapse—still hasn't left his little shack, at least not in the eyes of others.

"Henry? Henry?" A woman's hoarse voice called out again from outside. Her beloved son Henry was missing, and the villagers had searched the neighborhood for the poor family but couldn't find him.

"Shut up, what's the point of looking for a worthless wretch?" People had searched his little shack before—Henry had been around the area before he disappeared and had even run errands for him to buy alcohol. But they found nothing, and no one suspected the incapacitated former miner anymore.

This good-for-nothing is just waiting to die. Everyone thought so, and after a cursory inspection, they couldn't wait to leave the stinking, alcohol-smelling hut.

The man shifted in the drafty, unlit shack, moving his numb hands and feet. Yes, his hands and feet were whole again! He was whole again, though his new limbs were not yet coordinated; if sunlight shone through and fell on his skin, it would reveal a disgusting pink.

The pain started again. Before she could adjust, the man groped in the dark and pulled out a small packet of powder, shaking it into the bottle. Only a small amount of wine remained, the cap long gone. He pressed his thumb against the bottle opening and shook it vigorously to dissolve the powder clinging to the bottle walls.

"Pfft—ha!" He felt relieved. As agreed with the mysterious man, he would receive new powder tonight, so he consumed all the remaining stock and wine.

A few days ago, a mysterious person appeared without showing their face, bringing pain-relieving powder, a miracle of recovery, and the original miner's new name, "Salamanda," which means salamander.

In order for new limbs to grow, he needed a living body. The man went to great lengths to convince the greedy and foolish Henry that he still had money to buy wine, and with the help of the mysterious man, he completed the disgusting ritual.

Everything happened while the adults were at work, when things calmed down in the eastern suburbs for a while, which was also the best time for them to take action.

The smell of blood was masked by excrement and all sorts of nauseating odors, such as alcohol and sweat. Even if someone did notice and said, "Sir, I have a sore that is bleeding and oozing pus. Would you like to take a look?" everyone would stop him and believe his story before he could lift his tattered clothes.

Everyone else was waiting for him to die so they could clear out the shack, so no one bothered the filthy, dying man during that time. The mysterious man would hide things in Salamander's "cave" on the following nights and sometimes take them out.

Of course, the medicine powder was a must-have, and he would also bring wine and some food: "Hold on for a few more days, and once your hands and feet are fully healed, I will take you away from here to enjoy the warm embrace of a great mother."

Salamanda scoffed, planning that once he fully recovered, he would crawl back to his homeland, Valuwana and Mother Earth to hell!

However, the medicine powder was really good. He tried to save it up, but he couldn't help but finish it every time to get through the pain of limb growth.

"What's that?" He lifted a piece of cardboard, the blinding light making him squint. It took him a while to make out a group of imposing armored warriors crossing the street, with tall horses behind them. Salamanda couldn't see the knights in their entirety.

The sounds of horses' hooves and heavy armor clashing, combined with incomprehensible chanting, especially the monks chanting behind the horses, caused Salamanda's hands and feet to ache intensely.

Damn it! Medicine! Medicine! His mind was a jumbled mess of pain and chanting, leaving only regret, regret for not saving a single bit of the powder to use now.

Before he could even regain his senses, the group had already moved far away.

The Sacré-Cœur Basilica is the closest church to the eastern suburbs. It has the largest catacombs in Valuana, where more than one saint's coffin is kept.

At this moment, the "Grey Cardinal" and the other leaders of this operation are here, on the first level of the catacombs, surrounded by several people in grey robes.

Before him lay a map, a flat map of the eastern suburbs, marked with many red symbols. The vast suburbs were further divided into many sections, and as the paladins moved in, church symbols were placed one by one on the map.

"Priest Joseph, the first batch of paladins, sixteen in total, and three cleric monks have arrived at the Munger Asylum. The second and third batches are ready." The grey-robed monk reported the information to Joseph.

Joseph is both the "shadow bishop" of Deplessi and the leader of the "Grey Knights" of Valuana, and he is in charge of the operation to wipe out the remnants of the cult.

During the day, under the guise of pilgrimage, the paladins openly roamed the eastern suburbs of the capital, while the malevolent spirits constantly searched for and locked onto their targets. However, they did not act immediately, but instead took up positions in the almshouses and chapels in the eastern suburbs in batches.

The plan was for the paladins to conduct their pilgrimage in the open, drawing the cultists' full attention. The remaining paladins would blockade the entire eastern suburbs, while the grey-robed knights would begin their operation at night, eliminating the known strongholds identified in previous intelligence. If any had already been relocated, they would coordinate with the garrisoned paladins to sweep through the areas section by section.

The suburbs are too large and the population too diverse, making it too abrupt for church personnel to enter. It's impossible for everyone to be present and strike decisively, so they resorted to this less-than-ideal strategy: a coordinated effort, one overt and one covert, to clean up the entire den of iniquity.

Similarly, due to the vast size of the area, deploying and sealing it off would require sending paladins from other regions into the capital. According to the agreement with His Majesty the King, operations could only be carried out in the eastern suburbs.

To appease the residents, a huge amount of food was allocated, a result of Deplesi's hard work and coordination with other parishes.

"The arrival of the paladins will surely provoke these rats to flee in all directions. The Grey Knights must eradicate all evil and leave no blasphemy or defilement unpunished." The daytime pilgrimage is a warning; once the target panics and reveals their true colors, it will be the Grey Knights' opportunity to carry out justice from the shadows.

"Yes, sir!"

"Sir, if you don't let us work, we'll starve to death!" At the edge of the slums, a majestic and tall warrior blocked everyone's way, his dirty and withered hand smearing on his mirror-like armor, leaving a handprint.

This terrified the pleading woman, but the paladin merely smiled gently: "Madam, we will deliver grain porridge later. Please cooperate with our operation." As he said the last sentence, his gentle smile turned serious: "A very grave blasphemy has occurred here. For salvation, please cooperate with us!"

Some of the laborers, relying on their numbers and physical strength, puffed out their chests and tried to confront the samurai. "You make it sound so easy," one said, "but with so many people here, how can we possibly get enough food? What if the boss fires us today if we don't work?"

This statement resonated widely, and one of the knights responsible for the blockade dismounted. As he approached the laborer, the laborer realized just how imposing he was. The other paladins made way for him; he was clearly a leader-like figure.

The paladin removed his helmet, revealing his handsome face to all. His piercing eyes, a mere sweep across the crowd, silenced them. "A messenger of God!" a resounding voice declared.

"With the Lord as my witness, on behalf of the paladins, I swear to you: not a single innocent person will suffer from cold or hunger because of today's actions. We are here to cleanse this place of sin and defilement!"

When the fourth group of paladins arrived, they escorted the large wagons slowly in, deliberately not covering them with burlap so that all the residents could see the grain they were carrying.

The commotion subsided, and everyone stared intently as the grain carts slowly passed by, the only sound the faint rustling of swallows. Most of the people here had no food without working and were now starving. Once the cultivators at the back of the procession had also left, everyone rushed forward to retrieve the grain that had fallen to the ground.

Amidst the sacred chanting, the slum dwellers prostrated themselves, groping for each grain of rice, as if worshipping a procession representing light and order.

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(End of this chapter)