Chapter 182: Holy Land Town

Holy Land Town, a small settlement enclosed within the Nation of Werewolves.

This town, built under the leadership of Leo, Vito, and Flint, now had nearly two thousand residents.

Everywhere in town stood symbols of the Cross, and even the large Powerful Crossbows mounted on the town walls were painted with the cross.

Inside the central fortress of the town, George met Flint — the priest of the town and the one managing all its affairs.

“Welcome, Knight George of the Church of the Sanctuary.” Flint sat in the head seat, lifting a mug of honey wine in greeting.

“Ha, Flint, today you’re even willing to take out the honey wine.” Leo took a sip and said with a smile.

“Of course. With such an honored guest, I must bring out the best.” Flint smiled. “I’ve had someone slaughter a sheep, so we’ll soon have delicious mutton.”

George’s eyes narrowed slightly. Having been trained in political sensitivity by Knight Julian, he sensed that this priest Flint did not particularly welcome him.

“Thank you for your hospitality, but I heard from Leo that food isn’t easy to come by now, so just some flatbread will do for me,” George said, taking a sip of honey wine.

“Those werewolves have been growing bolder lately, shrinking our hunting grounds considerably. Still, it’s not as if we can’t serve proper food to an honored guest.” Flint looked at George as he spoke.

“This town may not be large, but with our current population, we can cultivate land within the walls. If we last four months, we’ll harvest enough wheat to supply the whole town. With our current reserves, if we ration carefully, it’s enough.”

George nodded, but just as he was about to speak, Leo cut in.

“That would mean everyone going hungry.” The smile on Leo’s face faded. “And if we only have grain with no meat, the warriors’ stamina will falter.”

“Here, everyone — men, women, young and old — must take up arms to fight. At the very least, those who mainly fight must have some meat.”

“The land inside the walls can’t support livestock, and outside, the livestock have already been eaten by the werewolves. Vito and I have come back empty-handed several times recently.”

“Now that Knight George is here, and Priest Marl has also brought warriors to cleanse and drive away the werewolves, we can’t just stay here waiting for them to attack. I think we should gather warriors to follow Knight George to cleanse the werewolves and then return with him to York Territory.”

“Only by leaving this land can we truly be at peace.”

Leo fixed his gaze on Flint, but Flint’s expression remained unchanged.

“If possible, I’d agree. But most of our warriors can only hold the werewolves at bay because of the walls and Powerful Crossbows. Even in small skirmishes outside, it’s only thanks to the crossbows that they can barely kill werewolves.”

“In the end, these warriors rely entirely on the convenience of the crossbows. They’re just ordinary commoners without real combat training. Without the walls’ protection, facing werewolves head-on, they’d have no advantage.”

“Leo, you’ve personally fought a squad led by an Upper-Ranked Werewolf. Though you killed it, of the ten who went with you, only three returned, all wounded — one bitten by that Upper-Ranked Werewolf. He wasn’t a Temple Warrior like you, resistant to wolf-toxin, so you personally granted him peace before he could turn into a werewolf.”

“That is the true combat strength of our warriors. For them to fight like a real army against werewolves is unrealistic.”

Flint sighed, shook his head, and looked at George.

“I want to ask, Knight George — how many warriors and knights did the Church send for this werewolf-cleansing mission?”

George paused for a moment. “Only I as the knight, forty-six warriors, and Priest Marl.”

Flint replied, “Though they’re not specially trained soldiers, Holy Land Town can muster seven hundred strong men. If necessary, all 1,083 people here can take up crossbows and go to battle. And Leo and Vito, our two warriors, can fight Upper-Ranked Werewolves. If they’d been formally granted the title, they’d be called knights.”

“But even with all these people, we still rely on the walls. We can’t say we’re clearing out werewolves. Even when we gather our best fighters to attack, we return leaving corpses behind.”

“Leo, it’s not that I don’t want to go on the offensive and follow the knight to York Town — reality simply doesn’t allow it.”

Another sigh from Flint.

Leo fell silent, glanced at Flint, and lowered his head to eat.

“So I’m sorry, Knight George — we might not be able to gather warriors to fight with you.” Flint looked at him as he said this.

“No need to apologize. Protecting the commoners is the right choice,” George replied, then asked, “You’ve survived here for so long — have you learned anything about the werewolves?”

“We don’t know much,” Flint said, lowering his head to think before continuing. “We’ve found fewer and fewer unconscious Transformed Werewolves. Now, almost all we encounter are conscious Lower Werewolves. The Transformed ones seem abandoned, just wandering aimlessly without leadership.”

“We don’t know their total numbers, but within the range we can move, there are at least four hundred Lower Werewolves and two Upper-Ranked Werewolves.”

“And once, during Vito’s fight with an Upper-Ranked Werewolf, we got a piece of information I think is important.”

“Werewolves now have the ability to keep humans for breeding more werewolves.” Flint’s voice was grave.

George already knew they were trying this — he had seen werewolves penning humans when he crossed the Nation of Werewolves.

Flint went on, “In the north, near the Northwind Mountains, they have a massive pasture, constantly producing Lower Werewolves. But their numbers haven’t yet filled the whole nation.”

“They haven’t killed us outright because their main offensive is still against a noble in the west.”

“We may be just commoners clinging to life, but behind crossbows and walls, to kill us outright would still take at least five Upper-Ranked Werewolves and over 1,500 Lower Werewolves.”

“But even so, they’re steadily shrinking our range of activity, cutting off our food sources, trying to control our population through hunger.”

Flint’s tone was laced with despair and fatigue.

“I see…” George frowned. “But if you can see this pattern, you shouldn’t just wait for death.”

“I certainly don’t want to wait for death, trapped in this town,” Flint shook his head.

“If you had ten knights and 420 warriors, I’d be willing to rally our people and leave Holy Land Town.”

“But unfortunately, you came with one knight and forty-two warriors.”

“If we stay here, even if we die in the end, we might last two or three years, and by then a lord might send troops to drive the werewolves away, leaving more of us alive.”

Then Flint added, “However, with our current population, we could declare ourselves an independent noble. Even if with our current people and land, we’d only be independent lords, we could grant titles to three formal knights.”

“With three formal knights plus you, Knight George, we might expand our territory, and once we meet up with Priest Marl’s warriors, we might break out of the Nation of Werewolves and reach York Territory.”

George understood and looked at Flint deeply. “Then why haven’t you done this already? According to your thinking, even without us here, life would be better.”

Flint glanced at Leo. “To declare an independent noble, most of the territory’s people must agree. Holy Land Town was founded on the faith of the Holy Scriptures, so without Leo and Vito’s agreement, it can’t be done.”

George looked at Leo, silently questioning him.

Leo wiped the broth from his face. “When Priest Flint suggested it, Vito and I both sought the Lord’s guidance, and the Lord did not approve.”

Flint added, “Their method of seeking guidance is to throw a stick. If it points a certain way, it’s the Lord’s approval; if not, it’s rejection.”

“It was by the Lord’s revelation that Holy Land Town came to be,” Leo said, looking at Flint with some displeasure.

Flint ignored him, looking at George instead. “That’s the situation.”

George nodded, closed his eyes, and used the Prayer Technique. When he opened them again, he said to Flint, “I prayed for the Lord’s guidance, and the Lord’s answer was no.”

Flint froze, then looked at George intently. “It seems the Lord truly did not approve.”

The displeasure on Leo’s face eased. “Your arrival must also be the Lord’s guidance. When Vito returns tonight, he and I will ask the Lord again to see if we should return.”

George smiled and said nothing more, and Flint fell silent.

After the meal, Flint left, saying he needed to prepare for evening prayer.

“In such despair, people still need faith to comfort their hearts,” Flint said.

Once he left, sadness crept into Leo’s face.

“In fact, Vito and I were initially inclined to support his proposal and help him become a noble,” Leo said.

“We know Flint isn’t truly devout, but as a priest, he can manage the town better.”

“This plan really could help the people survive better, so we didn’t mind him becoming a noble in the Lord’s name. I believe the Lord would approve too.”

Leo looked around, then leaned slightly toward George and lowered his voice.

“But the day before, we accidentally discovered his secret.”

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