Chapter 63 Chapter 64 Village of Saint John
The three left behind a pile of bodies still smoking with black smoke and set off for their destination.
Half an hour later, at a fork in the road, a substantial statue appeared before them. The statue depicted an old man in a hooded robe with a long beard, exquisitely crafted, with eyes full of compassion.
The base of the statue was quite strange, made up of a pile of skulls.
“Saint John Village is almost here,” George said happily. “This is the hermit I mentioned to you before, and he is also a saint. I still remember when I was fourteen, I rode a mule and passed by Saint John Village that summer to visit him… he inspired me a lot…”
As George spoke, the three walked past the statue.
“Back then, during the undead disaster, he guarded the city of Mushi with the army for three whole months… I will never forget how he shared with me the hardships of defending the city back then…”
“Later, reinforcements arrived and crushed the undead army. But the land had already been ravaged by the winds of death, and he willingly stayed in the village to purify this land.”
Jima yawned and turned her head to see that the statue was already about a hundred meters away from them.
“He said he would remain here until all the vampire corruption was completely eradicated. His spirit of dedication moved the church, and he was canonized, after which everyone called him Saint John…”
“Pause!” Jima finally couldn’t take it anymore and said, “I finally have a deeper understanding of your memory, George, you’re just a walking encyclopedia. But do you really have to say so much?”
“I just wanted to tell you what a noble person he is,” George said. “The local villagers also hold him in high regard and erected a statue for him.”
“Ah, finally getting to the point.”
“He not only possesses the virtue of compassion but also does not pursue worldly fame and fortune. You can certainly see the pursuit of transcendence above worldly gains in him,” George said. “He is one of my idols, and I learned a lot from him.”
“Wait a minute,” Jima said, “are you saying that I’m very power-hungry and pursue worldly fame?”
George nodded and said, “That’s how I personally feel.”
“Why do you always speak so bluntly, really.”
As Jima said this, she glanced at Jenna, who was bowing her head and softly praying, “May the God of Dawn in the heavens bless Saint John and protect his health.”
“Sister Jenna, what do you think?”
“Me?” Saint Jenna raised her head and said, “I think, Jima, you pursue personal freedom, do not care about worldly opinions, and are a vibrant and playful girl…”
Jima looked at George and said, “You see, that’s emotional intelligence for you. She describes selfishness, shamelessness, and being a pain in the neck in such pleasant terms.”
Saint Jenna looked somewhat embarrassed and said, “… yet very honest and self-aware.”
Jima said, “George, did you learn anything from that?”
“Jima, I really didn’t mean that…”
“I am very self-aware, thank you for your kindness.”
George sighed, feeling the difficulty of education. Jima’s attitude was nearly as indifferent as a piece of salted fish, summed up in four words: lying flat and letting others do as they please.
However, he still had confidence. Saint John was a person of great charisma and strong will. Unless it was an irredeemable demon king, even the most evil would be moved by the goodness within him.
“I’ll continue to introduce Saint John; after all, we are going to ask for his help later,” George said. “He has always been respected and lives simply—”
“Wait.” Jima said, “I can hear deep emotion in your voice; are you about to say that he worked all day long to purify ‘vampire corruption’ without going home, not even there when his wife gave birth? When his parents were dying, he had no time to go see them one last time? Not only were his immediate relatives unfortunate, but his family was also pretty poor, with empty sleeves and bare walls, and his clothes patched up?”
George asked, “You actually took the initiative to learn about Saint John before?”
“Not all of it was guesswork.” Jima said, “I just didn’t expect this method of promotion to be so similar; in short, how pitiful he was, it doesn’t change the fact that he did good deeds and ended up with a bad outcome.”
“Jima!” George’s tone became serious, “I can understand you resisting me, but that’s not a reason to ridicule and belittle him; I am not happy about it. You use worldly standards to mock a saint who pursues nobility, which is fundamentally unfair.”
Jima’s tail flicked lazily and said, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, George. I’ll listen attentively.”
“His parents are alive; it was just that his wife died in childbirth,” George said. “And his home isn’t really empty; he is very respected in the village, and his house is only a bit worse than mine. He just lives simply and likes to patch his clothes.”
God, it’s worse than your stone house.
Jima asked, “How strong is he?”
“His rating is gold.”
“So strong?”
George said, “Because his dedication moved the gods, granting him blessings, which boosted his power to save people better.”
A gold-class transcendent still living in the countryside. Silver-tier folk can already live quite well… well, maybe he prefers pastoral life.
Jima gave up her malicious thoughts about Saint John and said, “He is a good person.”
George continued to say a few more things, and even though Jima still strongly disagreed with Saint John’s choices and thought they were foolish, she stopped her negative remarks, at least not saying them out loud.
After all, under the moral framework of humanity, if Jima lay on the ground, then Saint John was standing atop Mount Everest.
Feeling bored, Jima was finally listening to George’s last sentence.
“In short, you better learn from him.”
“Uh-huh.”
Jima put on a bored expression, pulled the reins closer to Jenna. Taking a look at the profile of her snowy peak, she immediately felt much better, a charming smile appearing on her face as she said:
“Sister Jenna.”
“Yes?”
“Earlier, why did you ask about that goblin captive?” Jima asked. “That’s a green-skinned creature; they are born bad.”
“I just believe that no one is born a bad person,” Jenna said. “From both emotional and rational perspectives, it’s hard for me to accept. Jima, why do some beings inherently like to kill and rob others? Peace is clearly the better solution.”
“There is no reason.” Jima said. “You’re just prejudging using human morality on other races.”
“Huh? Really?”
“You subconsciously define robbing, killing others, and bad people as negative terms,” Jima said. “This is true in humanity’s moral system, but in the context of green-skinned creatures, these are all positive terms.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“I was about to use the demon race as an example,” Jima said, “but I’m afraid it would scare you, thinking I’m the big bad who deserves to be tied to a pillar and burned.”
“You wouldn’t, Jima,” Saint Jenna said. “Honesty represents trust; knowing that the truth might bring you risk but still saying it shows that you trust us and believe we won’t harm you.”
“There are cities among the demon race that worship the Blood God, strictly forbidding any personal combats,” Jima said. “But sometimes they hold a ‘Midnight of Death,’ on that day, the city allows anyone the right to kill anyone to vent the desire to kill. Every ‘Midnight of Death’, groups of demons kill each other until the streets are piled with bodies and covered in blood.”
In short, is it a version of ‘human extermination’ from another world?
“Anyone has the right to kill anyone?”
“Yes. Killers team up and hunt everywhere, starting with enemies, then neighbors they quarrel with; even infants are not spared. After finishing off those they have connections with, they will run to the streets to hunt each other.”
Saint Jenna looked shocked and said, “This… is unbelievable!”
Jima appreciated her expression, feeling a sense of delightful superiority.
George said, “I find it hard to imagine how a city of demons can survive after experiencing a day of disorder during the ‘Midnight of Death.’ External enemies would surely take advantage and invade; the cities that hold the ‘Midnight of Death’ should eventually be destroyed.”
Jima proudly raised her chest and said, “You just don’t understand. On the contrary, a well-held ‘Midnight of Death’ will instead strengthen its own power.”
George asked, “Why?”
“Ask me, please do say ‘please.'”
George said, “Please tell me.”
“Say it again.”
“Please tell me, Jima.”
Jima said cheerfully, “So nice.”
George suddenly felt an itch in his hands; he took off his helmet, eager to hear what Jima would say.
“It’s very simple, because after the ‘Midnight of Death’ ends, those who haven’t killed enough will unite and go out to kill a round, and then there will be no external threats,” Jima said. “The demon race becomes stronger after slaughter, and blood and heads will please the Blood God. The more successful the ‘Midnight of Death’, the happier the Blood God will be, and the greater blessings He bestows on the last survivors.”
George frowned in disgust and said, “But isn’t that a huge loss of population?”
“As long as the ones who survive in the end are stronger than the dead ones, those who died are merely eliminated weaklings.”
“How is that possible?”
Jima said, “Do you remember the fear war demon foreseen in Shalin City?”
“I remember.”
“He seemed to be the champion of the ‘Midnight of Death’. Before the ‘Midnight of Death’, he was just an ordinary demon craftsman, but through wits and bravery, he survived the encounter with transcendent beings, attracting the attention of the Blood God.”
After a moment of silence, George said, “What an incredibly evil deity.”
Saint Jenna looked uncomfortable and said, “Such programs that grow stronger through mutual slaughter cannot last long; the demon race will eventually become extinct.”
“No,” George shook his head, “that’s why it’s so contemptible.”
Fortunately, I didn’t reveal I once dreamed of participating in the ‘Midnight of Death’ to win the championship; otherwise, I don’t know how George would view me…
Jima thought to herself.
In the end, she didn’t participate in the ‘Midnight of Death’ out of fear of failure; failure wouldn’t be fun. Besides, with the system in place, there was no worry about leveling up.
As they bantered, the three horses, carrying the three people, walked up the verdant hill.
A beautiful village surrounded by wheat fields appeared before them. The village was nestled beside a small river, with the noon sun shining just right upon the crystal-clear river, the surface glimmering.
A few children were playing in the water, laughter ringing out.
Saint John Village, arrived.
