Chapter 32: Sacred Heart Church

Novalis was the industrial heart of Eseriel.

Compared to the Holy Capital, the air here was not pure.

It carried much more of an “artificial” aura—the acrid smell of Mana reactions, the pungent odor of newly manufactured industrial goods, and the rusty scent of steam billowing from steam engine operations.

But here, there were also many things invisible in other cities.

Roaring machines, gears clacking and turning.

Rising white steam, flowing Mana pipelines.

Vehicles equipped with steam engines, having replaced horse-drawn carriages, whizzed past on smooth roads.

Machines strictly executed their programs, and workers orderly headed to their workshops.

Even the buildings were no longer bare—they were wisely clad in an extra layer of iron skin.

Advanced technology, man-made objects were everywhere on the streets, and the cultural entertainment industry developed in recent years—this was perhaps what set Novalis apart from other cities, attracting countless tourists.

Novalis was exactly that kind of city.

And the Sacred Heart Church, located in the old town, was arguably the most out-of-place element in this city driven by machines.

It provided a place where its believers could quiet their minds amidst the clamor.

…

Inside the Sacred Heart Church.

The day’s activities had already ended, and the gathered crowd gradually dispersed.

Nuns were busy tidying up, while some believers bid farewell to the priests who had received them before leaving.

“Father Lucas, you’ve worked hard today too!”

The man surrounded by the enthusiastic crowd wore a priest’s robe distinctly different in style from other clergy garments.

Speaking of priest robes, unlike the common robes most people were familiar with, his attire was specially modified to suit local customs.

It had no long trailing ends, the waist was cinched with a belt, and a handgun and sword hung from the left and right sides respectively.

The man named Lucas appeared to be around fifty years old—his temples were gradually turning white.

But compared to others his age entering their later years, his build was broader and more robust.

The muscles on his arms were very noticeable, as if he had trained specifically.

It seemed that beyond hearing confessions and prayers, physical combat was no issue for this priest either.

“Guiding the lost is my duty. I only pray for the Goddess to protect every innocent soul.”

Lucas spoke, his voice firm and warm.

There was no fatigue from work, nor any of the weariness expected of an older man.

“Father, may the Goddess protect you as well!”

After watching the last visitor leave the hall, the priest’s straight back finally relaxed slightly.

Lucas was one of the few priests still serving in Novalis, and the caretaker of the Sacred Heart Church.

He walked slowly and pushed open the wooden door to his resting room.

“Closing time keeps getting pushed back these days…”

Lucas took off his somewhat heavy coat and sank his tired body into the sofa.

It was hard to imagine that the priest who had just looked so devout before the believers was now complaining like an ordinary person.

But the priest’s lament was not unreasonable—the affairs at Sacred Heart Church had recently become overwhelmingly heavy, perhaps even more so than at the Holy Capital Cathedral.

Although under the governance of the Church, Novalis was a city that had always championed freedom.

Here, your faith was naturally free.

There were followers of the Goddess of Light, but not an overwhelming majority like elsewhere.

Ordinary believers, fanatics, atheists, and even heretical Demon Cultists—all coexisted on this land.

Moreover, for those who believed, the rituals in Novalis were much more relaxed than in the Holy Capital.

People did not have the habit of going to church every day, and the procedures for worship were not so tedious.

In short, for the people of Novalis, believing in the Goddess was more a matter of faith and justification.

It was fine to have other heretics around; it was fine if the prayer procedures were irregular.

As long as the sentiment was conveyed, that was enough.

After all, the Goddess herself didn’t seem to mind.

But since a series of horrifying incidents had occurred over the past half year, the number of people coming to the church had surged.

Lucas had listened to many confessions and comforted countless frightened souls.

They came from all walks of life and all ages.

Some were trembling with fear, mostly thieves who had behaved badly and had impure faith, afraid that the incidents would befall them, so they came to confess.

Some were grief-stricken, mostly family members of victims, who came to the church to pour out their hearts, seeking solace for their desolate spirits and comfort for the loss of loved ones.

Some were dazed and disoriented, mostly followers who echoed others’ opinions, unable to bear the growing panic and oppression in Novalis, and followed others to the church just to find some peace.

Unlike the public who did not know the full picture, Lucas was all too clear about the situation.

He could more or less guess, or rather, he was perfectly certain who was behind all these incidents.

But he was not the heroic figure from historical records.

He had the ability, but he dared not step forward to denounce, dare not point out the evil.

Because he knew the gap in power between him and them—a bone-deep feeling that made him shrink back, made him cowardly.

Though he claimed to be a guide for the people, Lucas really didn’t know what else to do besides comforting the wounded hearts.

Wasn’t he himself also a lost sheep?

After staring blankly for a while, a nun’s voice came from outside the closed wooden door.

“Lord Lucas, the Mayor is here to see you. He says he wants to talk.”

Lucas glanced at the mechanical watch on his left hand.

The hands pointed to nine-thirteen.

A visit at this hour… definitely not good news…

“Understood.”

The priest put his coat back on.

“Have him wait for me in the meeting room. I’ll be right there.”

…

Creak—

Lucas entered the meeting room.

A man of similar age was sitting on the edge of the sofa.

But unlike Lucas, he was bald and his figure had gone to fat.

His neat suit was stretched taut by his large belly, very noticeable.

The Mayor held a top hat in his left hand, while his right hand restlessly rubbed his cane.

“Lucas! My old friend! So good to see—”

When he saw the priest enter, the restless man immediately stood up to greet him, his belly trembling along with the motion.

“Alright, spare me these formalities.”

Lucas gestured for him to sit down together.

No greetings, no reminiscing.

After sitting down, he did not look directly at the fawning man.

Instead, he rudely picked up a cup of tea from the table and drank it casually.

“You’re here to talk about those political messes again, aren’t you?”

“No… as a token of gratitude, please accept these gifts.”

The Mayor produced a luxurious gift box, which seemed to hold many precious treasures.

“Take this trash away.”

The priest pushed the gift box aside.

“It looks like you’ve found a new way to insult my character.”

“…You know perfectly well… following the Holy Capital all these years… Novalis has paid who knows how many taxes for nothing, let those idle swindlers take so much of our labor’s fruits…”

The Mayor finally decided to get straight to the point.

“Think about it, Lucas! We have abundant mineral resources! We have unique geographical and transportation advantages. Why should we pay them taxes for nothing? Why should we be subject to the Church?”

“You speak piously…”

Lucas’s tone grew colder.

“Is this why you’ve downplayed the Church’s history in Novalis’s history books?”

“Novalis’s rich mineral veins didn’t attract the Demon King’s covetous attention back then… To protect its own safety, Novalis was the one that actively sought help from the Church. It was Novalis that requested the stationing of Paladins.”

“Now, how many of Novalis’s children know that it was the Church, that it was the Church’s Paladins, who shed blood to drive back the Demon King, who used their lives to defend their ancestors’ land?”

The priest sneered.

“Why must you do this… We both want what’s best for Novalis…”

“What you say is certainly not wrong… But now, any clear-eyed person can see that the Church’s grip on the regions is waning day by day. That’s the fact.”

“The Church can’t control us forever…”

“That Lord is currently in his weakened state… And he promised us that as long as we stay silent on this matter and also downplay our ties to the Church… we will gain the freedom to develop in the future. Then Novalis can be independent! We will have autonomy in all matters. We will surely develop even better!”

The man finally bared his fangs.

“That’s no excuse for their evil deeds.”

The priest’s gaze was as if looking at a piece of trash.

“I’ve been busy with many things today, and most of them are consequences of your inaction.” Lucas stood up. “If you’re going to repeat this meaningless nonsense, I’ll go rest.”

“Lucas!”

The man grew anxious.

“You know very well why we’ve been seeking your stance!”

“You have prestige among the believers in Novalis. That Lord doesn’t ask you to join, doesn’t ask for your support. He only needs your tacit approval!”

“You also know this is the trend of the times! You shouldn’t resist!”

“If Novalis truly wants independence… if this truly is the will of the people…”

Lucas fell silent for a moment before finally responding.

“Your affairs, I will not interfere.”

“If that’s the answer you want, then take it and go.”

He set down the teacup.

“That’s enough.”

After receiving the answer, the Mayor stood up in surprise.

“I never misjudged you, old friend.”

Lucas watched the Mayor leave with a complex expression.

He felt his soul defiled once again, just as it had been thirty-six years ago.