Since all these rules and superstitions are outdated, what's wrong with me indulging in some me

Ilya clasped his hands to his chest and bowed slightly.

"Yes."

"good!"

Lu Changsheng nodded, praising him against his conscience.

When will the rest of the group eat?

Ilya simply said:

"Noon."

Lu Changsheng, who had hoped to glean information from Ilya, got nothing and found it increasingly strange.

Finally, he put down his spoon and gently wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"The Holy Communion is over," Lu Changsheng said, his voice steady and without any hint of abnormality. "I have felt your piety and devotion."

But Ilya remained completely still.

"My God... Your Holy Communion today seems to have been consumed less than usual."

Her voice was still very soft, but this statement was clearly not a simple statement.

"I have already eaten the Lord's Supper; the rest is yours."

A fatherly smile appeared on Lu Changsheng's face.

"After all, it is the Holy Communion that you painstakingly prepared for me."

Sister Ilya was taken aback. For the first time, she raised her head and looked directly at Lu Changsheng, never expecting him to say such a thing.

Now, Lu Changsheng finally saw Ilya's face clearly.

Her face beneath the hood was unusually pale, almost bloodless, like porcelain that had never seen the sun. Her features were exquisite yet lifeless, like a meticulously sculpted doll. Most striking were her eyes—almost silver-gray, with extremely pale irises, gleaming with an inhuman, cold light beneath the hood.

At this moment, those eyes were staring unblinkingly at Lu Changsheng, without the reverence a believer should have, nor the humility of a servant, but only a kind of... scrutinizing calm.

Time seemed to freeze for a few seconds.

"My God..." Ilya spoke slowly, her voice still soft, but with a hint of barely perceptible hesitation, "The Holy Communion is a sacred relic prepared for you; how can we mortals presume to transgress it?"

She lowered her eyes, concealing her cold, silvery-gray gaze once more.

"The remainder of the Holy Communion should, according to custom, be returned to the altar fire and turned into the smoke of the offering."

Lu Changsheng felt a chill run down his spine; every priest here was strangely similar.

Even if he had no religious beliefs, he knew the most basic principle: "Do not look directly at God."

But he remained outwardly calm, instead gently shaking his head, adopting a posture of compassion for the world:

"The fire of the altar burns for worldly offerings. But this Holy Communion, having tasted it, is imbued with my divinity. To give it to you is a blessing, a grace."

He was testing them, trying to see where these people's bottom line was regarding his so-called "god".

Ilya was silent for a moment. She raised her head again, her silver-gray eyes looking at Lu Changsheng once more, something seeming to be rapidly flowing and assessing deep within her gaze.

Finally, she bowed slightly again.

"Thank God for His grace." Her tone returned to its previous calmness, but Lu Changsheng keenly noticed that it seemed to contain a very faint hint of mockery.

"Since I have received God's blessing, I will handle this matter properly."

She stepped forward and was about to start clearing away the dishes.

Lu Changsheng, however, had no intention of letting her go. A smile played on his lips; he was quite tolerant.

He didn't break any rules, and since he didn't break any rules, no one here could do anything to him.

"Ilya, why aren't you eating now?"

Ilya froze, her pale fingers squeaking as she gripped the snow-white porcelain plate.

The atmosphere in the restaurant suddenly froze.

Time passed by, one second, two seconds.

Just as this taut string was about to snap—

"Thump, thump, thump."

Three clear, steady knocks with a certain rhythm suddenly broke the suffocating silence in the communion room.

The knocking was neither hurried nor slow, yet it carried an undeniable sense of power, clearly penetrating the heavy wooden door.

Ilya's tense body relaxed almost imperceptibly, as if a drowning person had grabbed onto a piece of driftwood.

She quickly lowered her eyes, suppressed all her emotions, and reverted to her submissive, empty saintly demeanor.

Lu Changsheng glanced at Sister Ilya with a half-smile.

"Please come in." Lu Changsheng's voice was calm, but his gaze was sharp as he looked towards the doorway.

The door was pushed open.

A tall figure walked in.

The newcomer was dressed in a long, jet-black robe with dark red trim. The robe was sharply tailored, making him appear tall and imposing.

He looked to be in his forties, with an old scar on his cheek that ran diagonally from his brow bone to his cheekbone. This scar did not detract from his imposing presence; instead, it added to his menacing air.

"presiding judge."

Sister Ilya bent down to greet the man.

"Good day, my God."

He quickly made a blessing gesture in front of his chest, his voice low and slightly hoarse.

"Cass has come on the orders of the Archbishop to explain the arrangements for tomorrow's audience."

This man is Judge Cass, so the old man from earlier must be the Archbishop?

Lu Changsheng silently guessed in his mind, but nodded with a smile on his face.

"First, it concerns the collective audience of believers tomorrow."

Cass's voice was calm and his words were clear.

"According to the sacred calendar, tomorrow is the 'Day of Purification.' Thirty believers will line up outside the church at dawn to receive your blessing."

He paused, then added:

"Unlike praying alone today, during a collective audience, you will be accompanied by all members of the priestly and elder council, and the choir will sing hymns."

Lu Changsheng silently memorized this information. During the collective audience, his performance would be scrutinized by even more people.

"I already know."

"My God, today you have bestowed upon your believers the method to cure gray spot disease, saving countless lost sheep. Now the people of Blackwater Town are all worshipping in your place."

When this matter was brought up, Judge Cass bowed deeply to Lu Changsheng.

"Treatment for gray spot disease?!"

Sister Ilya, who had been standing silently to the side, suddenly exclaimed.

Lu Changsheng was also startled by the shout, not expecting Ilya to react so strongly.

The saintess, who had maintained a submissive and empty demeanor, now showed clear cracks on her pale face for the first time—her silver-gray eyes suddenly widened, her pupils contracted, and she was filled with unbelievable horror.

Judge Cass's gaze also fell upon her.

She seemed to realize her lapse in composure, quickly lowered her head, and clasped her hands tightly together until her knuckles turned white again.

"Ilya, you have lost your composure before my God." Cass's cold and stern face remained unchanged. "According to the Holy Law, you should be confined to the confessional for three days to reflect on your transgressions."

Lu Changsheng was somewhat surprised that this judge, Cass, would punish Sister Ilya in order to protect him.

Ilya's body trembled almost imperceptibly, but she still did not raise her head or argue.

Looking at the scene before him, Lu Changsheng quickly weighed the options in his mind.

"Judge Cass," Lu Changsheng said, his voice not loud, but carrying an air of authority from above, "You are loyal to the law and conscientious in your duties, which greatly pleases me."

"But I believe Ilya didn't mean to disrespect me. There was a reason. Ilya... why did you lose your composure like this?"

Ilya slowly raised her head, her silver-gray eyes flashing with complex emotions: shock, hesitation, struggle, and some kind of deep-seated pain.

"My God," her voice trembled slightly, no longer the hollow echo of before, "you...do you really know how to cure gray spot disease?"

"We'll clean the mine shaft with clean water and then cover it with green grass," Lu Changsheng replied calmly. "You don't believe me?"

"No, it's not that I don't believe you..." Ilya's voice trailed off, as if she had made up her mind. She took a deep breath, "It's just... gray spot disease isn't a disease."

Lu Changsheng's eyes narrowed.

"What is that?"

"That's God's punishment..."

It's not "your punishment," it's "God's punishment"...

Where exactly do I stand?

Lu Changsheng remained outwardly calm, but his inner confusion deepened.

"The Silent Era has lasted for 120 years, and God has abandoned us for over a hundred years—"

Judge Cass looked at Lu Changsheng with fervent eyes, and even his usually stern face flushed with excitement.

"But thankfully, you have finally appeared. You have proven that God has not abandoned us, and you have ended the era of silence! With you here, we will break through all darkness, and your radiance will shine upon the entire world!"

Lu Changsheng was stunned. So he was the only true god in the past 120 years?

"Since you are familiar with patients with gray spots, then you will be in charge of preparing the medicine." Lu Changsheng looked at Sister Ilya. "Are you willing?"

Ilya's body trembled slightly. She raised her head, a hint of surprise flashing in her silver-gray eyes, but she quickly suppressed it.

"...I will obey the divine decree."

"Very good." Lu Changsheng stood up, his white-gold robe flowing like mercury. "Take me to the altar. Dusk is approaching."

The central altar deep inside the church was even more magnificent and... eerie than Lu Changsheng had imagined.

The altar is located in the center of a huge circular underground space. It is made of a dark, blood-like stone and tapers upwards in a stepped manner, with a circular platform about three meters in diameter at the top.

The platform was engraved with an extremely complex pattern, with deeply embedded lines and what appeared to be dark red, long-dried stains along the edges.

Twelve towering stone pillars stand around the altar, each adorned with bas-reliefs of twisted and tormented human figures, as if enduring eternal suffering.

The candlesticks atop the pillars burned with pale flames, casting shadowy shadows throughout the space, which was filled with a strong smell of sulfur mixed with old blood.

A tall, robust figure stood like an iron tower beside the altar's base. He was completely covered in heavy silver-gray plate armor, his helmet tucked under his arm, revealing a weathered face.

Hearing footsteps, the man turned around. His gaze first fell on Cass, who was leading the way, and he nodded slightly before looking at Lu Changsheng.

In that instant, Lu Changsheng clearly saw a barely perceptible surge of excitement flash deep within Rex's tired, dull, gray eyes.

He knelt on one knee, the clanging of his armor producing a heavy thud.

"Knight Templar Commander Rex, greetings to my god. The altar is ready and awaits your command."

His voice was deep and hoarse, like the friction of rocks.

"Okay." Lu Changsheng raised his hand. "Thank you for your hard work."

"To serve our God is the glory and duty of a knight."

Rex stood up, his body ramrod straight, his hand still resting on the hilt of his sword at his waist.

Lu Changsheng slowly ascended the steps of the altar. With each step, he felt a subtle, heart-like pulsation emanating from the stones beneath his feet, and he could even faintly hear a deep, resonant murmur, as if from the depths of the earth.

[Rule Seven: Every day before dusk, you must personally cut off a strand of your own hair and place it in the fire at the altar.]

He picked up a strand of black hair from his forehead, and without hesitation, he used his fingertips to pull it apart—with a soft "snap," the hair broke.

He gently tossed the hair into the flames.

The moment the hair touched the flames, the low murmur in the air became clear for a fleeting instant.

Rex looked up from below, his knuckles turning slightly white as he gripped the hilt of his sword.

Cass stood a little distance away, head bowed, his expression hidden in the shadows.

Lu Changsheng stared at the altar for a few seconds, then turned and left.

"The offering is complete," he said calmly. "I will return tomorrow."

"We obey the divine decree!" Cass and Rex bowed simultaneously.

Lu Changsheng nodded and said no more. Led by Cass, he walked towards the staircase leading to the sanctuary on the ground.

The heavy stone door closed silently behind him, cutting off the last ray of light and sound from the outside world. Lu Changsheng stood alone in the so-called "underground sanctuary," which was also the sleeping quarters of the gods.

The room was more spacious and colder than he had imagined. Although it was fully furnished, the air was filled with a mixture of old paraffin wax and a faint sweet, fishy smell, similar to that of an altar.

[Rule 5: You must return to the underground sanctuary to rest by 11 PM and may not leave until 8 AM the following morning.]

Lu Changsheng glanced at a simple hourglass on the desk. Fine sand was slowly flowing out. Based on the time Cass had told him earlier, there was still about an hour until 11 p.m.

He first carefully inspected the entire room.

The walls were massive, monolithic stones, producing a dull, resonant sound when struck. The floor was paved with neatly cut stone slabs, their joints tightly sealed. The ceiling was high, shrouded in darkness above the dim light. There were no hidden doors, no secret passages.

There was nothing in the entire room that could reflect light clearly enough to mirror a person's image; even metal objects were scarce. The water in the stone basin was shallow, only showing a faint halo of light.

"So thorough the precautions..."

Lu Changsheng muttered to himself as he sat down beside the stone bed.

Is forbidding one from looking in a mirror because they're afraid "God" will see their appearance? Or are they afraid "God" will see something else?

He closed his eyes, quickly reviewing everything that had happened that day in his mind.

"The Lamb of Sisyphus"—the title of this story is itself full of metaphor. Sisyphus endlessly pushes the boulder, symbolizing futility and punishment.

The lamb, on the other hand, is the sacrificial offering to be slaughtered, the docile believer, and the scapegoat.

In this instance, is the "god" he plays the one being worshipped, or Sisyphus who pushes the boulder?

Or perhaps... the lamb that is about to be sacrificed?

Gray spot disease, Echo Valley... all sorts of strange things in Blackwater Town.

He also met the four shepherds today, each of whom seemed to have their own secrets, yet they all tacitly kept silent from him.

You have received a new chapter update: Chapter 186 Strange Things, read here.