A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

Brelen didn't say another word to Naruko and simply walked out the door.

Being stupid is absolutely contagious.

As Levy was about to step out of the church, she suddenly turned around, waved to the priest, and gave him a 0v0 expression.

Father Thun smiled gently and waved back.

After Levy disappeared from sight, Father Thun looked at the restrained boy beside him.

Bray referred to it as "the little knight".

"Come, sit down."

"Is it about healing, or about expressing one's innermost feelings?" Father Thun asked.

"Something on my mind," Baphomet said after a long pause.

If Baphomet hadn't been pulled in by Bray, he might have stood at the church entrance until nightfall.

"Then come with me. You don't want others to hear what you're saying, do you?"

"No." Baphomet scratched his face somewhat awkwardly.

After leading Baphomet into a room, Father Thun handed Baphomet a stool.

“Then you can say at any time, I’m waiting, I’m listening,” Father Thun said to Baphomet, sitting down and closing his eyes slightly.

Baphomet took a deep breath and then looked directly at Father Thun.

Father Thun's gentle gaze made Baphomet relax a little.

"I think I'm a pretty useless person," Baphomet said in a deep voice, touching his chest.

Baphomet has been feeling very irritable lately.

The source of his frustration was the apprentice knight who was in the same cohort as him.

Baphomet and Messiah originally had a good relationship, but now Baphomet has developed a feeling of jealousy towards Messiah.

There was even a slight hatred for the Messiah.

Because Messiah suddenly became powerful, whereas not long ago he was a weakling.

Baphomet tried very hard, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't match the explosive growth of Messiah's strength.

A sense of powerlessness, coupled with a feeling of frustration, led to all the negative emotions being directed towards the Messiah.

Although Baphomet didn't usually show it, the darkness in his heart was growing.

Baphomet hates himself for who he is now.

"I hate myself like this, but I can't suppress my jealousy." Baphomet said with a gloomy face.

To hide his expression, Baphomet placed his hands on his forehead.

"I'm so jealous. I'm jealous that someone like him could become so strong."

"Why? I work so hard, yet I'm not as good as him. Why!" Baphomet clenched his fists.

“What kind of knight am I, like this…” Baphomet then loosened his fist and pursed his lips.

"I'm so useless."

A stark contrast can cause people to lose their rationality and feel immense pressure.

It all stemmed from jealousy, an emotion that was difficult to control.

“Telling you not to be jealous of the Messiah isn’t really a useful thing to say,” Father Thun said softly.

"Because of comparison, jealousy will inevitably arise; because of disparity, jealousy will inevitably arise."

“This is a normal thing for many people.” Father Thun suddenly stood up and touched Baphomet’s hair.

Father Thun had long noticed that the boy regularly trained himself, and his strong physique was the best proof of that.

As a fellow priest who tirelessly strives to improve himself, he understands how much sweat Baphomet has poured into his work.

“Young knight, can you tell me why you want to become a knight?” the priest asked.

"Because I want to be a hero who can protect others," Baphomet said somewhat shyly.

It would be fine if a child said it, but Baphomet was already fifteen years old and felt ashamed to say it.

“A wonderful wish,” Father Thun said.

"So all your efforts are to become a hero who protects others, aren't they?"

"Hmm." Baphomet nodded slightly.

“Every day, every single day, I’m trying my best,” Baphomet murmured, looking at his calloused hands.

“Your jealousy stems from the fact that your desires now include many other things,” Father Thun said.

"They crave praise, they crave glory, they yearn for more."

"But young knight, protecting others doesn't necessarily bring these benefits."

“Praise and glory, and all that, are not inevitable.” The priest shook his head.

Distracting thoughts are the root of negative emotions.

The desire for more will lead to comparisons that ultimately harm oneself.

However, people have an instinct to make comparisons.

Baphomet lowered his head, seemingly lost in thought.

Just as Father Thun said, Baphomet believed that becoming a hero would bring honor and so on.

Baphomet cannot imagine a hero without honor and praise.

“I also admired a hero,” the priest suddenly said.

A smile appeared on Father Thun's face.

“That was the hero who saved me, the remarkable person who allowed me to stand alive,” Father Thun continued.

"And I want to become someone like him."

“Do you know why?” Father Thun asked, looking into Baphomet’s eyes.

Why?

"Because, at that moment, I felt that heroes are truly the best."

"And you."

“Me too.” Baphomet sighed deeply, recalling the soldier who had once saved him.

That soldier was a hero to Baphomet.

However, as time went on, what Baphomet hoped for gradually increased and became more complicated.

They crave to be known by more people, and even hope to be praised.

That's why he was jealous of the Messiah, who suddenly became more outstanding than himself.

"Let your wishes be purer."

"Remembering your original intention is not a bad thing."

“Your true self is the best.” The priest placed his hand on Baphomet’s chest.

"Alright, I won't say any more nonsense," Father Thun said with a smile.

"I also want to help others."

Yes, Baphomet is not the only one who needs a priest.

"Hopefully these few words will give you something to think about." The priest opened the door to the room, and light immediately streamed in.

“Thank you, Father!” Baphomet bowed in thanks.

Although Baphomet hasn't yet said he's completely overcome his jealousy, he has already come to understand many things.

"Looks like I've been helpful."

“That would be the best thing.” Father Thun walked out of the room, a wisp of pulsating black mist between his two fingers.

—"A divine art that tempts people to fall...?"

"Really, they won't even spare a child like this?"

Father Thun's face showed a hint of anger.

---

In a monster extermination operation not long after, the knights faced a large number of enemies and also had to protect the villagers.

“Baphomet! Please hide behind me!” Messiah said to Baphomet.

“Messiah! You just continue to take good care of the villagers,” Baphomet said.

"I can still handle it!"

"We can only rely on you to protect all the villagers. I will take care of holding off these monsters." Baphomet's expression was calm as he fought with all his might.

"Okay, but if you can't hold on any longer... please be sure to say so."

“Understood,” Baphomet replied with a sigh of relief.

Barreka suddenly chuckled; what Baphomet said seemed perfectly normal.

But Barreka picked up on a lot, both in tone and content.

"Mori Aiven, don't let the younger generation catch up with you!"

"..." Sen Aiwen didn't speak, only raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, Your Holiness, it was my carelessness." The acolyte knelt on the ground, not daring to raise his head.

“Hmm—” Shar drew out the sound through her nose.

The angel's escape is truly bad news.

Once the bronze specimen escapes, it becomes virtually impossible to catch it again.

After all, the entire church's resources were mobilized just to trick Aphrena.

Like the Iron type, the Bronze type also has strong and weak individuals, with a significant gap between their upper and lower limits.

However, the combat power of ordinary soldiers of the Bronze race is already 70/30 that of S-rank adventurers of the Iron race. Of course, the Bronze race is 70% and the S-rank adventurer is 30%. Generally speaking, an ordinary Bronze race member can slaughter a small Iron race town.

In addition, Afrena is clearly not a weakling among the Bronze-tier characters.

"Well, it's alright. Let's send people to search for the angel's whereabouts first," Shar said.

However, sending people to search openly would increase the chances of the entire church being exposed.

But this is all we can do now; praying that the angels won't hold a grudge is a futile endeavor.

The only option is to strike first once you find it.

Although the Bronze type is very strong, with the resources of the entire church, it is believed that it can still play a role.

“However, deacon.” Shar’s boot slammed down on the deacon’s head.

“You must repent properly, even if you are a deacon.”

"Understood." The assistant priest said without any complaint.

Throughout the entire church, there is no one who holds the highest position now but Shar.

The church no longer has a leader, as Shar has dealt with him directly.

In other words, Shar's command is the highest command.

---

At the same moment, in the capital, a man jumped off a carriage.

The man's white hair was combed back, and he wore sunglasses and a blue leather trench coat with black trim.

This man, probably in his early twenties, seemed out of place among his surroundings.

"Sir, the fare!" the coachman called out.

"I've already put it in your bag," the man said without turning his head.

The coachman touched his pocket, which should have been empty, and found that it contained several tens of grams of banknotes.