“Olovice, you, you’re really amazing.” Brother Martin, who wasn’t good at talking to people, watched the whole process with a look of astonishment. He was so excited that he was at a loss for words, gesturing with his hands: “Those noble young ladies, each donated five gold pounds, oh Father, all gold pounds, no silver or copper pennies, such a large sum of money, those ladies are truly generous.”

The three noble young ladies donated a total of fifteen gold pounds, and Mr. Thomas, the mayor, followed suit with a donation of five gold pounds. Miss Elizabeth was not to be outdone, donating three gold pounds. Lady Borgia, standing by, was secretly a bit pained, but she said nothing, maintaining a polite smile as they left.

So, in total, they received twenty-three gold pounds this time.

Letania Church had never been so wealthy before, so it was no wonder everyone was losing their composure. Olovice tried to restrain his joy, but it was no use; the corners of his mouth still turned up. He sincerely blessed, “May the Holy Light bless the beautiful, friendly, and wealthy Lady Emile, Lady Susan, Lady Dany, and the devout Mr. Thomas and his family with eternal happiness.”

Olovice was a competent and dedicated steward. He had already memorized the personalities, appearances, and names of the ladies, which was very important for future social interactions.

“Yes, yes,” Brother Martin agreed, holding the donation box reluctantly before handing it over to Sister Hiran. The financial power of the church had always been managed and distributed by Sister Hiran, who was also smiling broadly: “Tonight, I’ll prepare a sumptuous holy meal, with bread made from new wheat flour, and a dish of tender pea lamb stew, tomato fish cake soup.”

Mr. Briel, upon hearing this, felt his mouth watering. The old priest was a very frugal person, and coupled with the fact that this small church didn’t have high income, the Radiant Church was always primarily vegetarian. Since he arrived here, there hadn’t been many meals with much substance. Mr. Briel wasn’t complaining; he was just honestly reacting to the news of such a delicious meal.

Olovice took the opportunity to make a request: “I’d also like some potato pancakes.”

“Haha, alright,” Sister Hiran winked at Olovice: “There will also be your favorite little cake after dinner.”

Olovice was taken aback: “No need, Sister Hiran.” After dinner, a cup of honey sunflower tea would suffice for him.

“Hiran is right, we should indeed buy a cake to celebrate,” Father Andre, whose wound was almost completely healed, said with a smile: “You deserve it, Olovice.”

“Then let’s get a big one, so we can all share,” Olovice suggested.

“Okay,” Sister Hiran asked, “What flavor do you want, or the cream lemon one from last time?”

“How about cherry jam cake?” Olovice suggested.

“Sure,” Sister Hiran nodded: “Ramon’s jam has always been the best in town, and he adds extra fruit in it.”

With that, Sister Hiran went shopping, taking Brother Martin with her, indicating that the workload was not small.

With no one left in the church, Father Andre sat on a chair inside, watching his student tidy up the altar, dusting the large Radiant Cross with a feather duster, and then wiping it with clean water.

Keeping the church clean and tidy was a must for the staff.

Mr. Briel put down his cane and sat not far from the old priest, joining in the fun. He said, “I wonder when I can have a Natural God Church in Hearn.”

“With your ability as a Natural Patriarch, you could look for opportunities in big cities. When it comes to vitality healing, it’s still the Natural God Church,” Father Andre suggested, as the Natural God Church’s doctrine was about nature, peace, love, and mutual aid. Although their roots were in the distant Northern Continent, Father Andre had heard of this church.

Hearn didn’t reject such true god churches.

Mr. Briel patted his left leg, smiling bitterly: “My leg can’t walk, and outsiders see that I can’t even heal myself, so trust is greatly reduced.”

Father Andre leaned closer to Mr. Briel, asking a question that had been on his mind for days: “Mr. Briel, you are a Natural Patriarch, and in your country, Abizan, I imagine your status is not low. Why did you leave your country at such a great cost? May I ask why?”

Olovice also perked up his ears, wanting to know. If Mr. Briel didn’t like his country and didn’t want to stay there, that was possible. However, when Olovice first met Mr. Briel, he was playing his accordion and singing songs from his homeland, filled with sincere longing, which instantly moved Olovice.

To be honest, he was also someone far from home, and he could never return.

Mr. Briel gazed at the sculpture of the Radiant Church, his eyes deep and vaguely pained, his face full of confusion and incomprehension: “You live here, so you naturally don’t know what’s happening in the Northern Continent.”

“The Northern Continent, like you, has true god religions, the Natural God Church, the Storm God Church, the Flame God Church. We bask in the glory of the true gods, resisting the cold shadows, the invasion of alien demons, promoting orthodox doctrines, keeping people away from the pollution of evil gods.”

Mr. Briel was very sorrowful: “But in recent decades, a new evil cult has emerged in the Northern Continent, and we have no way to deal with it. Its doctrine is diametrically opposed to ours, completely opposite, yet countless people believe in it.”

“What is it called?” Father Andre asked.

“The Church of Death,” Mr. Briel replied: “Because of our joint crusade, they cannot gain official recognition and cannot be called the Death God Church, so for now, they can only be considered a folk belief.”

“We are trying to teach them to survive, but they believe in death. The doctrine of the Church of Death is distorted and twisted, completely ignorant of the essence of life. It is developing rapidly. When I left Abizan, they already had several strongholds. In the vast ocean, they even have a city-state of their own, hidden deep in the sea, called Florence, which countless people yearn for.”

Olovice could see that Mr. Briel was very upset. It seemed that the Church of Death had a significant impact on the Natural God Church, causing the old gentleman to have a mental breakdown, prompting him to come to Hearn to preach anew.

“I see, this church indeed doesn’t sound orthodox,” Father Andre said.

Olovice prepared a cup of sweet sunflower tea for the old gentleman, hoping to soothe his soul.

“Olovice, Martin and Hiran have gone shopping, so I’ll watch over the church this afternoon. You take the supplies Hiran prepared to the orphanage, and then check if the children have any other needs,” Father Andre instructed.

“I understand, teacher,” Olovice replied, heading to the church’s storage room to check the supplies Sister Hiran had prepared. Besides kitchen supplies, there were some clothes, some donated by villagers, and some bought by Sister Hiran with the church’s communal funds.

He set off with the package.

The orphanage in Letania was actually under government jurisdiction, but how should I put it, Mayor Thomas didn’t care about the orphanage that only brought him burdens and no benefits. After all, the children there were either disabled or orphans with no parents. The government allocated limited funds to the orphanage each year, and much of it was embezzled.

As a result, the responsibility for the orphanage invisibly fell to the church. Sister Hiran and Brother Martin would occasionally visit.

Olovice took on this task.

The orphanage was far from the bustling residential area of the town, located next to a grove. The iron gate was rusty. Olovice took out Sister Hiran’s spare key to open the gate. In the small courtyard, there was a big tree, with a swing gently swaying in the breeze and a faded ball under the tree’s shade.

Inside the house with a red roof and white brick walls, hearing the sound of the door opening, the children rushed out.

Olovice counted and found one missing; there were six around him.

The children surrounded him, and before Olovice could ask, a little boy grabbed his pant leg and nervously said, “Uncle Olovice, the new caretaker won’t let Sister Eufra eat.”

Olovice patted his head and gently asked, “Do you know why?”

“Because Sister Eufra accidentally broke a bowl, the caretaker punished her by locking her up.”

“What about the director?” Olovice remembered that the director of the orphanage was a distant relative of Mr. Thomas. Although he embezzled welfare funds, at least he wouldn’t deliberately scold or beat these poor children, just ignore them.

“The director went to the mayor’s vineyard.”

Probably to curry favor with those noble young ladies, Olovice thought, “I see.”

It seemed the new caretaker wasn’t good. He needed to find a way to get rid of him. Just as well, Eufra was old enough to be a caretaker. She was originally the leader of these children, taking care of them when the director wasn’t attentive. This way, the caretaker’s salary could go to Eufra, allowing her to save some money for future plans.

Entering the hall, Olovice put down the full supplies and smiled, “I’ll go check on Eufra. You all stay here and wait for me to come back with gifts.”

Each child obediently sat on the long dining bench in the center of the hall, full of anticipation.

Following the direction they pointed, Olovice walked. The children said the confinement room was the small shed where firewood was stored in winter, next to the kitchen, usually locked.

Olovice quickly found it.

He stopped, looking at the male caretaker outside the door. He was listening to the crying from inside the wooden door, cackling strangely, “Eufra, if you don’t admit your mistake, you won’t be allowed to eat dinner. You’ll just have to go hungry.”

Eufra’s rebuttal was weak, with a sobbing tone, “I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry.”

“Not sincere enough. Come to my room tonight,” the caretaker laughed strangely, “I…”

“Bang.”

His head was grabbed and slammed into the wooden door. Just as he was about to let out a shrill scream, Olovice covered his mouth, preventing him from making a sound. He easily restrained the man’s flailing arms, silently and swiftly dragging him away.

In the small grove, the man looked at Olovice, his head covered in blood, both angry and furious: “What are you doing? Olovice, you actually hit me. You’re finished. I’m going to report you. How can you, as a clergy member, hit people at will?”

Olovice’s hand emitted a holy light: “Sorry, sir, I was too heavy-handed just now. Can I heal you first?”

“You better know it!” The man clutched his aching forehead, feeling like his skull was about to crack, the pain unbearable: “Hurry up and save me. You’re a priest steward, right? I’m going to complain to Andre, just you wait.”

Olovice healed his wound. Under the holy light, his wound healed quickly. Just as the man was about to get up, cursing, he felt his neck gripped by hands as strong as iron, slamming him into the tree trunk, once, twice, three times, his flesh and blood a mess, the man wailing in agony.

In his blurred vision, he could only see the golden-haired, blue-eyed priest steward, like an angel, apologizing to him with full sincerity.

“I’m really sorry for hurting you. Let me heal you.”

Before the man could flee in terror, it was a repeat of healing, beating, healing, beating…

Until finally, the man lay on the ground, barely alive, twitching subconsciously, even though there wasn’t a single wound on his body.

Only then did Olovice throw the mentally broken man into the river, waiting until his body floated up, drifting downstream.

“Poor drowned man,” Olovice said with compassion, “I must tell the children this sad news.”

When Olovice returned to the orphanage, bringing Eufra out and telling the children the news, he unsurprisingly received their bright, shining eyes.

Eufra was starving, and hearing he accidentally drowned made her even happier. When Uncle Olovice suggested she become a caretaker and earn money in the future, she was even more delighted.

“Really? Can I really, Uncle Olovice?” She looked up, wearing a wooden Radiant Cross made by Sister Hiran around her neck.

Olovice squatted down, smiling, “You should be able to. I’ll talk to your director. Eufra, you’re much more capable than that caretaker.”

He carefully observed that this limping little girl didn’t seem to have suffered much harm. After eating her fill, she was spirited again.

“I’ll do my best, just like Sister Hiran,” Eufra said, as Sister Hiran was her role model.

“She brought you gifts. Come and see.”

Olovice watched Eufra distribute the supplies. The children listened to her, quickly returning to their places with the supplies.

“Eufra, does that caretaker often not give you food?” Olovice asked again, just to be sure.

“Yes, he’s very bad,” Eufra wrinkled her nose, “I don’t believe him. I usually stay far away from him. He often drinks, and I suspect his room has dead rats, it stinks. We don’t like going near him.”

“If anything happens, or if someone is mean to you, you can go to the church to find Sister Hiran or me, Martin too. We’ll all help you,” Olovice instructed.

“That bad guy hid the key, so I couldn’t get out. When I become a caretaker, I’ll take them to the church,” Eufra said.

“That’s good.” Olovice ruffled the little girl’s hair, played with them for a while, and then set off on his way home under the evening glow.

Walking into town, he soon heard people discussing a drowned body found by the river.

Hmm, it seemed he had another task tomorrow.

Besides baptizing babies, priests were also responsible for officiating funerals for the deceased. In the countryside, it was just a simple ceremony, just going through the motions.

He was the one who killed the person, and he was the one who buried the body.

Very thorough from start to finish.

Returning to the church, enjoying the dinner prepared by Hiran, Olovice felt today couldn’t be happier, especially with the cherry jam cake for dessert.

“Olovice, take a piece to them, we can’t finish the cake,” Father Andre said.

After dinner, Olovice set off with a small cake and bones for the Red-Haired Witch.

Tonight was the end of the month, and the moon was red.

As Olovice approached the vine wall, he heard barking from inside.

“Grace, it’s me, Olovice. I brought you a small cake.”

The vine wall wriggled and parted. Olovice entered the house, immediately seeing a skinny black dog sitting by the Radiant Cage, barking anxiously.

Olovice revealed the bones in the bamboo basket.

The black dog’s eyes lit up, looking over eagerly, its tail wagging non-stop, drooling from its fangs.

“Stupid dog!” Lily said, exasperated, “All you know is eating all day.”

“Come on,” Olovice called to the black dog. He quite liked little cats and dogs.

“Go, stupid dog,” Lily pouted, annoyed.

With its owner’s command, the black dog darted over to gnaw on the meat bone.

Olovice approached the Radiant Cage.

Lily glared, “What, are you here to laugh at me? To mock what I said last night? Let me tell you, my dog used to live well with me, it was…”

The Radiant Cage suddenly dissolved into light particles.

Olovice took out a small cake, looking at the spiky Red-Haired Witch, “Eat.”

The Red-Haired Witch was stunned.

“You have some too.”

Olovice sat on the vine chair, resting his head on his hand, a bit helpless. To his left was the sound of the black dog gnawing on the bone, to his right was the Red-Haired Witch sitting on the ground, eating the cake with sobs, tears and snot all over her face.

One person and one dog sat on the ground, one gnawing with gusto, the other crying with gusto.