The Necromancer's Church Management Manual

Selena rolled over, trying to hug the broad body beside her, but found nothing.

This made her subconsciously open her eyes; one side of the bed was now empty.

"Gal?"

She made a languid sound, but there was no response.

Strange... Selena stretched, but still braved the cold to quickly put on her thick priest's robes and opened the door.

The night was deep and dark, with only the dim moonlight filtering through the clouds, making the silhouettes of the low houses around them appear eerie and terrifying.

Selena rubbed her cold hands together and went around to the side of the church to examine it closely, but there was still no one in sight.

Where did you go?

She sighed softly, turned around to go back to her room, and just then, at the end of the road in the distance, a slowly moving figure came into view.

"Oh, Gar, what's wrong with you? Why did you suddenly run out in the middle of the night?" She jogged up to Gar, pouting, her tone filled with a hint of complaint and worry.

"Ah...it's nothing." Garr turned his head away, his eyelids so heavy he could barely lift them, and his tone was perfunctory: "Selena, I'm a little tired, I just want to sleep right now, sorry."

Garr was in low spirits, and Selena could clearly feel his depressed aura, along with the smell of burning flesh emanating from him.

Upon closer inspection, one could faintly detect traces of magic within the burnt smell—clearly, Gar had recently been involved in a fight.

At that moment, the familiar man before her stirred a strange sense of distance within her. Yet, she neither pressed for answers nor confronted him. Instead, she silently stepped forward, gently supporting him as they walked back to the room.

Gar dragged his weary body into the room, as if all his strength had been drained away in an instant, and collapsed heavily onto the bed. A moment later, soft, even snoring filled the air; it was clear he was truly exhausted and utterly worn out.

Selena stood by the bed, quietly watching Garr sleeping soundly. She gently touched his cold hand with her fingertips, then silently pulled the blanket over him.

-

[85 Days to Go]

Hearing the busy sounds outside, Garl was no longer sleepy, so he put on his clothes and went out of the room.

Outside, dozens of lightly dressed refugees were shoveling snow near the church, and the little boy he had fed yesterday was among them.

Selena was cooking wheat porridge with Eugenie's mother in the open space, chatting and laughing.

The aroma of the porridge seeped into everyone's nostrils through the cold air, making them work even harder.

Garr was quite satisfied, and the disappointment of losing a key general last night had subsided somewhat.

After making some preparations, he gathered everyone together.

Eugenie took the initiative to stand at the front, while Horn, despite having just undergone surgery the day before, still managed to sit to the side. The little boy she had helped the day before stood further back, blocked by other thin believers.

Gar coughed lightly, drawing everyone's attention back to the faith, and the chaotic chatter among the believers immediately ceased.

"It's time for morning prayers now."

He understood that prayer was an excellent way to strengthen believers' faith in God.

Pray before meals to let believers know that these foods are a gift from God.

Praying before bed helps believers understand that God has always protected them from calamities, war, and cold.

In conclusion, prayer is an important component of the church's continued development.

He picked up the manual and recited: "Icarus, the benevolent god of light."

He paused, and Eugenie's childish voice repeated, "Icarus, the benevolent god of light."

The believers also chanted along: "Icarus, the loving god of light."

"Your light dispels the long night, your warmth melts the frost. Thank you for giving us food today to nourish our bodies; thank you for giving us shelter to protect our peace."

Garr's voice was low and deep as he read slowly, each word distinct and echoing in the empty church.

Every believer heard clearly, had time to contemplate the meaning of the prayer, and could feel the grace of Icarus.

"Guide us, the lost, out of the shadow of despair; strengthen us, the weak, and give us the courage to move forward!"

"Let the hungry be fed, the wounded be healed, and the displaced find a home."

May the light endure forever!

The believers chanted in unison, "May the light endure forever!"

Dozens of believers recited these five words aloud at that moment. After they finished reciting them, they felt as if they were in the embrace of the God of Light, feeling warm and close.

-

No. 4 Church Lane.

The crackling fire cast a warm yellow glow on the room. Smithson irritably picked at his ear and flicked his little finger.

"It's quite rare to see a priest here at this hour."

Claude took the pot out, scooped out the stew, divided it into two portions, and then glanced out the window.

Through the window, one can roughly see a man and a woman standing in front of a large pot, distributing thin porridge to the refugees.

"What's so strange about that? A passing heiress discovered the countless homeless people here, felt pity for them, opened a church, and distributed porridge."

Smithson rolled his eyes, his tone tinged with disdain:

"If that were the case, Mr. Melison wouldn't have sent us to monitor them. You're just speculating here."

"Okay, okay, then you probably don't want to eat stew anymore."

"I'd like to ask that too! Who eats stew for breakfast? We're not like those poor bastards outside!"

"The stew is great, with radishes, carrots, and onions..."

"So why is it all vegetables? I want meat!"

"Eat it if you want, or throw it away if you don't!" Claude picked up the pot, ready to take it out and throw it in the trash can.

"Who said we weren't eating? Give it back to me." Smithson snatched the pot back and placed it back on the table. "If you throw it away, you'll let those poor bastards outside eat it, making it a bargain for them?"

He took a sip, stuck out his tongue, and spat twice, "It's awful! Make me steak next time!"

"Then don't eat now." Claude looked out the window and said calmly, "That priest has gone out; go and follow him."

"Tsk, this job is impossible to do." Smithson endured the scalding soup, gulped down the stew in two gourds, then hurriedly put on his coat and went out to catch up with the priest.

Claude looked at the clean bowl, devoid of even a speck of oil, and said with a hint of helplessness, "Isn't this a perfectly clean meal? Why do you have to argue with me?"

Smithson followed the priest all the way to the western market, and when he saw the priest enter a building materials shop, he understood what the priest was up to.

"Oh, so this is for the renovation of the church. It seems the priest intends to run this place long-term."

When the priest came out of the shop, the shop owner had already arranged a carriage and had several workers begin to move the building materials.

"Are you going to start construction today? That's very efficient. Boss Meleson likes efficient people like that."

The carriages began transporting the materials to 19 Church Lane, and Smithson had no choice but to jog back to his residence at number 4.

Then I watched them pile the materials on the open ground.

Then the workers left?

Smithson's expression was somewhat strange.

The priest simply laid the materials out on the open ground and let the workers leave.

Normally, transporting materials means you're preparing for construction, right? Otherwise, these building materials could easily be stolen and resold to the material supplier.

I wonder what that priest is thinking.

Of course, he found out very quickly.