Chapter 36: An Encounter With the Faith

The cavalry had already begun sorting through the spoils.

Kai opened an exquisitely crafted large wooden chest. Rows of neatly arranged crystal bottles nearly blinded him with their gleam. He exclaimed excitedly, “My lord, you really should take a look at this—there are so many potions.”

Phield strode over. The moment he saw the contents, he burst into laughter. “These aren’t potions. They’re magic elixirs—mana elixirs, a specialty of Maple Leaf City.”

“Elixirs?” Seeing her lord so pleased, Ashina smiled as well. She picked up a bottle and gently swirled it before her eyes. The brownish-red liquid sloshed back and forth inside the crystal vial. Ashina suddenly frowned suspiciously. “This isn’t something strange, is it?”

She couldn’t let the lord come into contact with anything bizarre—like that evil plant last time, the one that turned people into lecherous maniacs.

“To cultivate mana, you have to consume this.”

Just like Gareth earlier—if one wanted to become a transcendent knight, they first had to take an awakening potion, then rely on mana elixirs for cultivation. And elixirs were extremely expensive. A single bottle often cost more than fifty gold coins, a price even knights struggled to afford.

As a result, the strong became higher-leveled, higher-leveled individuals became richer, and the wealthy could afford even more elixirs—becoming stronger still.

The gap between transcendents could widen at an astonishing speed.

That said, mana elixirs were useless to Divine Chosen—at best, they were just fancy drinks.

They were also useless to Phield himself. He had already missed the age for mana awakening.

“Check the rest of the cargo,” Phield said eagerly, rubbing his hands together. It felt just like opening blind loot boxes.

After half an hour of battlefield cleanup, Phield acquired two crates of mana elixirs—sixty bottles in total. There were also 327 gold coins in cash, a second-tier knight’s armor and equipment, a wagon of silk, a crate of healing potions, twelve horses, and various other goods. The total value was estimated at around five thousand gold coins.

“We’re family. What’s his is mine.” Phield seized the entire caravan without a shred of courtesy. “As expected, robbing is far faster than earning wealth yourself.”

Dragging out a group of newly trained cavalry for a casual raid yielded more profit than transporting rare vintage wine at enormous risk.

As for how his younger brother might react—he didn’t care in the slightest.

After organizing everything, the group returned to the roadside post outside the city, where Tate was already waiting.

“I thought you’d changed your mind,” Tate let out a long breath. Although the guards Phield had left behind kept urging him to be patient, Tate had already sold his house. Until he saw the baron in person, he couldn’t calm down. Keeping a straight face, he made a rare attempt at humor. “I even thought I might get to pocket a gold coin.”

Phield laughed loudly. “Then you’d miss out on ten thousand.”

Tate’s family climbed down from a donkey cart and bowed to Phield. An elderly woman with a headscarf and prominent buck teeth—clearly Tate’s mother. Tate’s wife was unremarkable, even rather ugly: dark skin, wide-set eyes. But Tate’s daughter was stunningly beautiful, with snow-white skin and a blue dress.

After nodding and smiling at each of them, Phield said, “We’re going to purchase supplies. The slaves we buy will be placed under your direct management. I trust you won’t disappoint me.”

Tate felt uncertain inside, but knowing he had no way out, he shouted immediately, “Leave it to me, my lord!”

Thanks to his brother’s “generous sponsorship,” Phield saved the expense of purchasing mist-dispelling lamps and purification potions. As a result, he directly bought three hundred slaves—two hundred of them men. Maple Leaf City avoided war, which made slaves scarce, and most of those he purchased were elderly, weak, women, or children.

The rest of the purchases focused on essentials: grain and fodder sufficient to supply the territory for three months, five cattle, twenty sheep, two warhorses, twenty-five ordinary horses, along with some noble furniture and clothing.

The total cost came to 1,970 gold coins, with most of the expense spent on livestock. This was, after all, an era where animals were worth more than people.

In addition, Phield bought three carrier pigeons—the cooing kind.

Fortunately, Tate demonstrated a degree of managerial ability. He divided the slaves into two groups—able-bodied men and women with children and elders—assigning them different loads. This greatly increased the caravan’s carrying capacity and reduced congestion.

“Looks like the money wasn’t wasted,” Phield thought.

They set out that very day. After reaching the border of High Castle Province, they rested for the night.

Early the next morning, Phield stepped out of his tent—and was surprised to find members of the Church present as well.

A Holy Armored Knight Order, thirty strong, every one of them radiating mana fluctuations. There were also twenty nuns, dressed in strict, modest habits—not the modern, provocative kind. At the very least, Phield could only see their faces; even their ears were hidden.

The slaves knelt and bowed toward them, while the nuns continuously preached and spread doctrine.

Somewhat different from his expectations, the Church in this world not only collected taxes from kings, but could also fine them, launch divine punishment army against heretics, and even ruled a wealthy nation composed of three provinces in the prosperous southern inner sea.

Nominally, including the Sacred Griffin Empire, more than a hundred nations large and small officially worshiped the Church’s Goddess of Holy Light, also known as the Mother of the Gods.

Whether she truly deserved the title of “mother,” however, no one knew.

After all, no one had ever truly seen a god. The only genuine miracle was the Divine Chosen—everything else could be fabricated.

“Apologies for disturbing your rest,” a nun said, offering an explanation instead of an excuse, displaying remarkable tact.

“All right. I can accept that explanation.” Phield shrugged.

“Wait—are you Baron Phield Ross?” A nun in pure white robes stared at him in shock. “By the Goddess of Holy Light… you really survived in Nightfall Domain? This must be a miracle!”

Phield looked puzzled. “You know me?”

“All things are miracles.”

A gentle, pleasant voice sounded from behind the nuns. They immediately parted, respectfully stepping aside.

The speaker was also a nun in white robes, but a softly glowing angelic sigil on her forehead marked her identity—a Divine Chosen, and one blessed by Holy Light.

“I am Eliza, a third-tier Divine Chosen of the Church. When we passed through Rose Territory, we heard that you were heading to reclaim Nightfall Domain, and we offered prayers for you.”

A third-tier Divine Chosen—her combat power was already terrifying. Saying she alone was equivalent to an entire army would not be an exaggeration.

Phield instinctively worried that she might expose Ashina, but Eliza didn’t even glance at her.

Divine Chosen seemed capable of masking one another.

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