Nordic: I Created a Forbidden Land for the Gods

Neil pondered, for him there was actually a fourth method he could use.

That is to kill beings with faith and extract from their corpses.

Similar to extracting faith crystals, this is a method unique to cheat programs.

But it's too difficult, since those with faith are all Heroic Spirits, and they are very hard to kill.

Just like the idea that "you need experience to find a job, and you need to work first to have experience," it's basically very difficult to achieve.

"There are also faith crystals, but those are a higher-grade form of hard currency than mithril, silver, and bronze, and they are very difficult to obtain."

Neil murmured, recalling the conversation he had overheard in the bar on the first floor.

Faith crystals are the crystallization of faith power. They are made using special techniques and can be absorbed even if the faith power is not directed at oneself.

Neil had some prior experience with it; the version Ella passed on to him was similar, and he was certain it could be absorbed directly.

However, mithril, silver, and copper are currencies in mythology, mainly because they can be used to forge artifacts, while faith crystals can directly enhance one's own strength, making them much more valuable from this perspective.

Such things are usually only used by gods, and even in a kingdom, the reserves are extremely scarce.

Neil plundered a fairly well-known mixed-race pirate crew, and while they had a certain reserve of mithril, silver, and bronze, they didn't find a single faith crystal among their entire fortune.

"Whether or not they were completely harvested as people in the tavern say, it is a fact that faith crystals can only be produced in mortal cities."

"I need Faith to build Winterfell, and there may even be dangers in the Darkmoon Realm. I may need to temporarily build level 2 rune structures."

"The ships heading to Blizzard won't arrive that quickly. Since we're just sitting around anyway, we might as well check out a mortal city; it won't hurt."

Neil murmured to himself, and after finalizing the plan, he "shut down" the puppet, leaving only the connection with the spiritual fragment inside, and set off early the next morning.

……

……

Snow Country, Ceylon City.

"Sir, how is it?"

"Have you found any help?"

"The hopes of our entire city rest on your shoulders!"

Hawthorne returned from the port looking exhausted. As soon as he entered the city, he was surrounded by hundreds of people.

They include men, women, young and old. Unlike the three-meter-tall Hawthorne, they are relatively short and look very fragile. They are quite ordinary mortals.

Logically, ordinary people should feel fear and awe towards those in high positions, but at this moment they did not show that.

They chatter back and forth, and that seems to be how our daily life is.

Looking down at them, Hawthorne's lips were stiff, but he forced a smile and said with a laugh:

"This... of course I found it."

"Who am I? The Lord of Ceylon City. That's a respectable title!"

"Reinforcements will arrive soon, don't worry, we'll definitely get through the beast tide!"

He spoke these words aloud, expressing feedback that was completely different from what he had heard in the bar, with a sense of guilt in his heart.

But upon hearing these words, the previously anxious Ceylonians became overjoyed and extremely excited.

Some children squeezed through the crowd, shouting "Lord, hero!" Hawthorne smiled wryly at the sight, but still put on a gentle expression and carefully stroked their heads with his rough fingers.

The child's head was only the size of his fingertip, but the slightly warm touch from his fingertip made him unconsciously smile through his bitter lips.

It wasn't a fake smile like before, but a genuine expression of emotion.

He has been in charge of Ceylon for three years.

He was originally a civil official in the royal palace. He didn't really want to come and manage this "breeding ground"; he was just ostracized.

Because he hadn't given a gift to the newly appointed steward, he only later learned that the steward was the prince's illegitimate son.

Managing the "breeding grounds" is a tough job. After all, in order to harvest the faith, the higher-ups would impose "natural disasters" every now and then to keep the city in a state of tension, and as the city lord, he would also suffer the consequences.

In addition, his responsibility was to comfort people when they were in pain, saying that "as long as you have faith in the king, you can get through the difficulties," even though he knew that this was all nonsense, and that their suffering was brought about by the king.

The long period of suffering made Hawthorne feel a sense of sympathy and mutual understanding.

Especially after each "misfortune," the city children didn't come over to curse them for being mixed-race; instead, they comforted them, saying that they would get through it eventually.

They are clearly more fragile than me, beings that could be crushed at any moment, yet they turn around and care about me.

It was a feeling you couldn't even get in a magnificent royal palace, where there was only intrigue and backstabbing, and no one ever cared about your feelings.

But now, it's here.

That feeling was very strange.

As time went on, he began to want to truly fulfill the responsibilities that a city lord should bear.

However, a real natural disaster struck, and thunderstorms ravaged the already fragile city.

Then came the beast tide, with giant beasts suddenly going berserk and rampaging. Even though he was quite powerful as a hybrid and could resist some of it, he couldn't really hold on.

Hearing of the collapse of other mortal cities in the distance, and seeing the city walls gradually crumbling, Hawthorne gritted his teeth, endured the humiliation, and returned to the capital to seek support from the chief steward.

The civil official who had initially refused to accept bribes is now pleading for leniency, holding all his possessions.

Seeing his expression, the young manager smiled.

"If only I had known this would happen! But it's too late to say anything now."

"The decision regarding the breeding grounds has already been made. Since the faith has already been harvested ahead of schedule, let them be destroyed as they please."

"Anyway, humans just keep growing back after a batch dies out. It just takes some time. There's no need to worry too much about it."

After saying this, the steward took all the gifts and closed the door, refusing Hawthorne entry.

No matter how much I knocked, there was no response.

"We can't count on anyone above us anymore. Even if we look for other mercenaries, it's unlikely they'll take on this kind of job."

"Besides, this is all I have left. If I invite too many people, there won't be enough to go around."

Back in the city lord's mansion, Hawthorne raised his hand and revealed a crystal. Strange fluctuations emanated from it, and just feeling them was enough to soothe the mind and make one feel very comfortable.

It is a crystal of faith.

But holding it, he wasn't very happy; his expression remained very sorrowful.

The crystals produced annually in the "breeding grounds" belong to the kingdom, but when he was ostracized and came here, out of resentment, he "concealed" and kept one piece.

It was incredibly valuable, but he dared not use it to bribe the steward, nor did he dare to offer it as a reward to other mixed-race individuals in the area.

After all, if word gets out, the royal palace will conduct a thorough investigation and purge of Ceylon.

Even now, in the face of crisis, maintaining absolute internal control is more in line with the ideals set by those above than dealing with "external enemies."

"If a powerful outsider comes to help, someone who will soon leave this place..."

The moment the thought crossed his mind, Hawthorne shook his head and gave a self-deprecating, bitter smile.

How could such a coincidence happen?