Chapter 227: What Kind of Shit is a Saint Son?
These common soldiers wouldn’t normally dare to commit such a disrespectful act.
But now, a phrase was spreading among them:
“Are kings, dukes, generals, and ministers born or made?”
Why were those people born as nobles, as clerics, while they were lowly commoners, subjected to their whims?
Why did they have to fight and die on the front lines, enduring poverty and hardship, while those in power enjoyed a life of comfort and privilege in the Imperial City?
Why weren’t they the ones in power?
Resentment had been brewing silently.
All it needed was a spark.
The performance of those high-ranking officials from the Imperial City, their cowardice during the battle and their eagerness to claim credit afterwards, disgusted these battle-hardened soldiers. Their brothers’ sacrifices were treated as mere trifles.
And O’Niens’s speech had only fueled their anger.
The conflict between them was escalating rapidly, violence simmering just beneath the surface.
The Royal Guards, however, were kept in check by the more level-headed Morton and Carol, who ordered them not to provoke the soldiers, fearing a mutiny.
The Holy See also had Loseweisse and an Archbishop working to maintain order. Although Loseweisse was insidious, she was also perceptive and sensed the simmering discontent.
Only the Church of the Earth Mother Goddess was led by the arrogant and incompetent O’Niens and the blindly obedient Inas. The knights, priests, and nuns of the Church, having inherited O’Niens’s personality, treated the soldiers like slaves, their arrogance fueling the soldiers’ resentment even more than the other two factions.
In fact, their anger towards the Church of the Earth Mother Goddess was even greater than their resentment towards the Empire, despite the Emperor’s execution of the seventy-six nobles.
So, when these soldiers passed by the Church’s camp, seeing their arrogance and their displays of power, their anger erupted, and one of them spat on the ground.
For a Holy Knight of the Church of the Earth Mother Goddess, such an act of disrespect from a lowly commoner was punishable by death, no trial needed.
In the Heavenly Continent, the power of the upper class, whether royal or religious, was absolute.
They had the power of life and death over the commoners. They were accustomed to this power, to their superior status. Even with the Demon Beast invasion and the increased reliance on common soldiers, their ingrained mindset hadn’t changed.
Spitting was an act of blasphemy.
A blasphemer.
Must be killed!
Seeing the incoming spear, Barnal’s face changed drastically.
As a commoner, Barnal’s rise to the rank of chiliarch, the highest position attainable by someone of his birth, was a testament to his abilities.
He had some basic training in Battle Qi.
And his years of fighting Demon Beasts had given him far more combat experience than those pampered knights of the Church of the Earth Mother Goddess.
The moment he saw the knight’s expression, Barnal knew something was wrong. He shoved his comrade aside and raised his shield just as the spear arrived.
Bang… Clang!
Sparks flew as the spear struck the metal shield, the impact sending Barnal stumbling backwards.
His bearded face contorted in a grimace, his muscles bulging, grunts escaping his throat as he struggled to maintain his footing.
His arm was numb from the impact. As expected of a cleric, their strength was far greater than these self-taught soldiers.
A sharp pain pierced his chest, and he spat out a mouthful of blood. The sight enraged his comrades, their fists clenching, their teeth gritted.
But Barnal, a true warrior, ignored his injury, wiping the blood from his beard and straightening up.
He glared at the knight. “Sir Knight,” he said, “you’re going to kill him just for spitting? Isn’t that a bit much?”
“Spitting might not be a death sentence, but it depends on where he spat. Spitting in front of the Church of the Earth Mother Goddess’s camp is disrespecting the goddess. He deserves to die!”
The knight didn’t see anything wrong with his actions. He even grinned cruelly, his eyes gleaming with malice as he looked at Barnal. “Barnal,” he sneered, “you dare to protect a blasphemer? You… will also die.”
As he spoke, more knights emerged from the camp, their faces twisted into similar grins, eager to prove their worth by slaughtering a few commoners.
Dozens, then hundreds, of knights gathered, whispering amongst themselves, seemingly deciding who to target first.
Even some of the seemingly benevolent priests joined them.
Protecting the honor of the Earth Mother Goddess was every believer’s sacred duty.
Against Demon Beasts, they were cowardly. Against commoners, they were ruthless.
These arrogant clerics didn’t take these commoners seriously. They were like insignificant ants, easily crushed.
They weren’t afraid of a mutiny. They were just commoners, domesticated pigs. There had never been a commoner rebellion in the Heavenly Continent. They didn’t have the guts.
Barnal was so angry that he felt a strange sense of calm.
This was the true face of the Empire’s upper class.
He wasn’t afraid, just staring at them with cold indifference.
The lack of fear in the commoners’ eyes was seen as a provocation, another act of blasphemy. They didn’t even beg for forgiveness, they dared to glare back!
They were truly hateful creatures, deserving of the cruelest punishment.
They were about to attack.
But suddenly, they heard a faint sound coming from all around them.
They looked around and saw a large number of soldiers putting down their work, picking up their rusty weapons, even those made from the claws and teeth of Demon Beasts, forming ranks and approaching from all directions.
Thump… Thump… Thump…
Their synchronized footsteps merged into a thunderous roar, the earth trembling beneath their feet.
Every soldier’s face was grim, their eyes burning with anger.
Dust and sand swirled around them, the wind whistling in their ears.
The clerics of the Church of the Earth Mother Goddess paled.
Seven thousand!
It wasn’t a huge number.
But seven thousand soldiers, marching towards them in perfect formation, their eyes filled with rage, was a terrifying sight.
An indescribable pressure weighed down on them, their faces turning pale, fear gripping their hearts. Although the soldiers were just walking, their heads held high, the clerics instinctively shrank back.
They huddled together, their throats dry, their hands trembling as they gripped their weapons, their foreheads slick with sweat.
“What… what are you doing?! Stop!”
A knight screamed, “In the name of the Church of the Earth Mother Goddess, I order you to stop! Get out of here!”
“You damned heretics! I’ll have you all burned at the stake!”
His angry roar was carried away by the wind, revealing the fear beneath his bluster.
They couldn’t understand. They were just going to execute a few lowly commoners, why had it provoked such a reaction? When had these commoners become so united?
And they hadn’t expected such a powerful, oppressive presence from a mere group of commoners.
The encirclement tightened.
The clerics’ faces were filled with terror, as if they were facing not a group of soldiers, but the most ferocious beasts of the jungle.
The commotion finally attracted the attention of Saint Son O’Niens.
He emerged from his tent, his brow furrowed as he surveyed the scene. A cleric whispered in his ear, explaining what had happened.
O’Niens’s face turned cold as he glanced at the surrounding soldiers. He waved his hand, his voice echoing in the wind, “Leave the soldier who spat behind. The rest of you are pardoned. Now scram!”
O’Niens still had a shred of rationality.
Seven thousand survivors out of a hundred thousand. Killing them all would have disastrous consequences, although in O’Niens’s eyes, their lives, even the lives of the ninety-three thousand who had already died, were worthless.
He could spare these seven thousand soldiers, but the one who spat had to die.
The glory of the Earth Mother Goddess couldn’t be tarnished.
In O’Niens’s mind, this was already incredibly magnanimous. These commoners should be kneeling, praising his mercy.
But to his surprise, the soldiers didn’t move, as if they hadn’t heard him at all.
Instead, without any orders, they all raised their weapons simultaneously.
Swish!
A perfectly synchronized movement, the sound unified.
Broken swords, rusty spears, claws and teeth of Demon Beasts, bows and crossbows smeared with Demon Beast venom…
All pointed at the hundreds of clerics, even at O’Niens, the Saint Son.
Although their weapons were crude and even laughable, the sight was terrifying, sending a chill down the clerics’ spines, their bodies drenched in sweat.
O’Niens’s face turned livid. How dare these commoners?!
His orders were ignored. These fools, instead of being grateful for his mercy, dared to point their weapons at him?
Blasphemy! Unforgivable!
His body trembled, his face twisting in rage.
“I, O’Niens, Saint Son of the Church of the Earth Mother Goddess!” he roared, his voice cold and menacing, “You dare to raise your weapons against the great Saint Son?!”
“In the name of the Saint Son, I order you all to kneel!”
A deathly silence fell.
Then, a voice echoed in the wind, “Saint Son? What kind of shit is a Saint Son?”
Hiss…
O’Niens’s handsome face twisted into a grotesque mask, uglier than any Demon Beast. His body trembled violently.
He had given them a chance to kneel and atone, but these foolish commoners, not only didn’t appreciate it, but they even dared to insult him, the Saint Son.
O’Niens couldn’t take it anymore. He raised his hand, ready to order his clerics to kill these soldiers. He would bear all the consequences.
Carol’s face changed slightly, and she was about to rush over and stop him.
Loseweisse, seeing this, also prepared to intervene. After all, she hadn’t been able to gain any fame by Qin Chu’s side, which displeased her. If she could act as a mediator between the Church of the Earth Mother Goddess and the army, she might gain the soldiers’ favor and increase her prestige.
But before they could move, O’Niens’s hand slammed down, his voice cold and hard:
“In the name of the Saint Son, I sentence you to death.”
“Kill!”
Whoosh…
Before the clerics around O’Niens could react, a gust of wind swept through the crowd.
Sand and dust filled the air.
A disdainful voice echoed in the wind:
“Saint Son?”
“Who? Who’s speaking?” O’Niens’s face twisted further, his voice sharp with rage.
The next instant, a whirlwind erupted before him.
The raging storm formed the silhouette of a tall woman.
It was Violet.
Her hand reached out from the wind, and O’Niens’s face changed slightly. He tried to dodge, but it was too late. He found his limbs entangled by whirlwinds, his body immobilized.
He could only watch helplessly as Violet’s hand gripped his head.
Then, his body was lifted off the ground.
The next second…
Bang!
Violet slammed O’Niens’s face into the ground.
“Saint Son? Hah! More like dog shit!”
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