The Necromancer's Church Management Manual

Gar didn't notice Selena's unusual behavior. After thinking about what she could do, he squeezed her burning palm:

"Selena, go to the nearby grain store and buy me some bread, or some wheat to make porridge. Food is a necessity for these refugees."

He then continued to think about how to better utilize these refugees and turn them into a useful bargaining chip for himself.

"Okay, sure."

Selena pursed her lips and left dejectedly. She hoped that she could help Gar through more important things than something as trivial as buying food.

Garr, however, did not notice Selena's disappointment. After the plan took shape in his mind, he straightened his tie and his back straightened slightly, silently reminding himself, "I am the bishop of the Church of Light." Then, he walked to the center of the church.

"In the name of Icarus, the god of light," the voice echoed through the empty church, carrying a faint, ethereal resonance: "This church will be given light, becoming His sanctuary. Lost ones dwelling here, gather here and hear the divine pronouncement."

However, all that answered him was silence. The refugees followed the sound, glanced at the neatly dressed Gar, and didn't move. What a joke! What kind of god of light is this? It sounds impressive, but he's just a wild god outside the nine main gods. What's the use of listening to the oracle of a wild god? Can it get you a bite to eat?

"Is there any food?" Finally, after a long silence, a man spoke up, eliciting the disdain of the crowd. Garl looked at the man, who was disheveled, his clothes tattered, his legs twisted and raised at an odd angle, blue and purple from the cold, clearly completely unusable. Amidst the messy hair, a pair of dark, hollow eyes stared straight at Garl.

The lame man repeated, "Is there any food?"

"May the God of Light generously bestow food upon those who listen." Gar was not intimidated by the pair of terrifying eyes; he continued to smile, his gentle brows conveying warmth and trust.

The lame man didn't say anything more, he just frantically swung his arms and crawled slowly on the dilapidated floor.

He was starving. Since his leg was broken, he had almost lost the ability to move. His broken leg had become completely crippled due to lack of timely treatment. He couldn't go to the Temple of War like other refugees to beg for some porridge. He could only rely on the daily help from his brothers to barely survive.

But recently, a sudden heavy snowfall has made everyone fearful, and even those with a little food only dare to hide it on their person. The cripple has lost his food source. He's gone three days without food, and if he doesn't eat something soon, he'll die silently in this church... Thinking of this, the cripple seems to have no other option but to pin his hopes on this stranger who has come to this place.

He climbed with all his might, each collision of his elbows with the plank accompanied by a creaking sound, as if the plank would break at any moment from the lame man's elbow strike.

But the lame man still resolutely crawled to Garr's side, stretched out his hand, and his withered, purple lips moved slightly:

"Please give me some food."

Gar watched silently as the cripple struggled to reach him, then comforted him by handing him the half-eaten bread he was carrying.

"The God of Light praises your trust and is willing to provide you with more food and heal your wounds. Please wait a moment; the priest will soon return with more food and hope."

The lame man's efforts paid off. He greedily grabbed the bread in his hand, carefully ate a couple of bites, and stuffed the rest into his pocket before looking at Gar.

Seeing that the lame man had received food, the surrounding refugees also got up and came to Gar, their pleading eyes fixed on him.

Garr was not in a hurry, but continued to ask:

"Is there anyone willing to go and ask the lost person in the room to come out?"

However, upon hearing this, Garr clearly felt the surrounding gazes become somewhat flustered, and even the lame man from before silently lowered his head.

However, at that moment, a girl shakily raised her hand.

Should I address you as Father?

Garl looked at her. The girl's face was covered in mud, making it impossible to tell what she looked like. Her messy hair was draped over her shoulders, covering her exposed skin. Garl could see the fear in her eyes, but even so, she raised her hand with all her might, which required immense courage.

The woman beside her looked at the girl with a look of fear, complaining about why she had raised her hand. She pulled the girl's hand down and hugged her tightly, her gaze occasionally turning back to look at the rooms, as if those rooms held a nightmare that haunted her, making her tremble and filled her with fear.

Even if Garl was stupid, he could see that there were strong and weak among these refugees. The stronger refugees could use their fists to occupy warmer and more comfortable rooms, while the weak, like the women, children and the disabled in front of him, could only huddle in this drafty church, enduring the cold wind and suffering.

Since that's the case, he sees no need to send them on any risks.

Garr walked up to the girl, and under the woman's cautious and fearful gaze, he bent down slightly, took some dry food, and placed it in the girl's hand, his voice gentle:

"You may call me Bishop Gar, child. The God of Light praises your courage, and this food is a reward for it." He paused, then continued, "More than that, once the church is built, believe in the God of Light, and He will give you the protection you deserve."

"Blessing... Will I become a familiar?" The girl looked at Gar and nodded solemnly, her eyes shining with joy, even happier than if she had received food. "I will try my best."

Gar was pleased with the help the lame man and the girl had given him for his plan, and his tone softened even more. At this moment, he seemed to have truly become a seasoned bishop, adept at comforting people, opening his heart with care:

"I can see the fear in your heart. Don't be afraid, speak it out boldly, and the God of Light will illuminate the darkness."

"Bishop Gar..." Gar's magnanimous heart gave the girl a great sense of security, which also gave her enough courage to recount the suffering she had endured, one by one:

"After they arrived, they took over the rooms. They were strong and drove us outside. They kept beating and threatening us, forcing us to find food. If we found it, they would steal almost everything; if we couldn't find it, they would beat us..."

The other refugees around him clenched their fists and gritted their teeth; the lame man also bent over, feeling like he could hardly breathe.

Gar listened patiently, and when the girl choked up and could no longer speak, he took out a tissue from his chest and gently wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes.

"You need not be afraid, for you are already under the protection of the God of Light. Next, the God of Light will judge their sins."