Chapter 75: Village Massacre

“This is no problem. How many do you need?” said Corleon.

“I brought a batch with me—fifty spears in total.” As he spoke, Nyx stood up and gestured that the spears were just outside the church.

Corleon followed Nyx out of the church.

A cart was parked to the side, with a Temple Warrior assigned to protect Nyx standing guard beside it, while two slaves from the cart were being taken to the kitchen by another Temple Warrior to share in the Sacrament.

The time for morning prayers and Sacrament had already passed, but there would still be some leftovers in the kitchen.

Seeing Corleon and Nyx, the two Temple Warriors straightened up and saluted Corleon, while the two slaves shrank their heads and quickly stuffed the Sacrament into their mouths.

“These are the ones, and here is the donation from Knight Wolf to the church.” Nyx walked to the cart and lifted a small box open a crack; Corleon could see the golden gleam inside.

“Does the small church have enough gold coins?” Corleon asked.

The small church also gave out daily Sacraments, though due to its village location, the taste wasn’t great—just enough to fill the stomach.

“That’s nothing for the Bishop to worry about. Baptisms and Blessings both bring in some gold coin income, and healing potions are something Wolf needs too,” Nyx replied.

And currently, these matters were monopolized by the Church.

Corleon nodded.

After bestowing Blessings upon the spears, he also gave Nyx a barrel of Holy Water.

“In necessary times, you can soak weapons in Holy Water—it will have some effect,” Corleon said.

“Understood. Once the small church is completed, I will also make some Holy Water,” Nyx nodded.

The Divine Word Manuscript included the method of making Holy Water.

After Nyx left with the oak spears and Holy Water, Corleon returned to the study and took out a small bound booklet.

It was something Nyx had given him—written during his recent late nights—the formula for making healing potions.

He had written it in great detail, down to specific steps and the consequences of getting a step wrong.

He placed the booklet on the bookshelf.

Currently, only the small Holy Scriptures and the thick Divine Word Manuscript sat on the shelf.

Including this one, there were only three books.

On the desk, parchment lay spread out, filled with Corleon’s recent writings.

…

Life returned to calm in the following days, though gradually, during morning Sacrament distributions, the faithful began murmuring rumors of beasts eating people.

But these were unrelated to them.

After the knights had rampaged with blades and iron hooves, they had faithfully executed the lord’s command: “Let the people of the territory travel without fear of bandits.”

As a result, more people began appearing around York Territory.

Of course, it was mainly people from the town and the four villages that currently lacked any overseer.

After the town gathered the refugees, it became somewhat crowded. Pressed by livelihood, they had no choice but to leave during the day to seek work and return by night to curl up in hidden corners of the town.

The town walls gave them a far stronger sense of security than the open area beyond.

Still, as these people gathered outside the town and mingled with villagers from other places, trade gradually began to emerge.

They did not settle down into a fixed market—after all, a market required tax payments to the lord.

But Corleon knew that people from the Rat Path were behind these operations.

These trades deliberately distanced themselves from the church.

The Temple Warriors made them uneasy.

Of course, they wouldn’t miss the free Sacrament from the church either.

Thus, during morning and evening Sacraments, Corleon overheard quite a bit about the territory through their idle talk.

Though most of it was nonsense.

About half a month after the capture of the werewolf, Corleon caught wind of something new from the mouths of the faithful who came for Sacrament.

A village had been massacred.

All three hundred-plus villagers were slaughtered in a single night.

The deaths were horrifying—their hearts gouged out, their bodies bearing bite marks that seemed like those from wolves.

This news frightened those who came for Sacrament. Some even trembled in fear.

The village that was slaughtered was one of those without noble oversight, and the ones trembling came from the other three such villages.

Those gentry families rooted in the villages might exploit commoners, but they also served as a united front, using the village’s strength to resist outside threats—at least preventing total chaos during attacks.

They had once felt liberated when those families were killed—finally free.

Yet this incident made them long for the days of noble rule again.

At least, when those families were around, though they were restricted and exploited, they could survive.

When Corleon heard this, he suspected it was the work of werewolves, and the Revelation later confirmed his suspicion.

He hesitated, then summoned Hode.

“A village was massacred—it was done by werewolves,” Corleon said.

Upon hearing the word ‘werewolves’, a fierce glint flared in Hode’s eyes.

His face bore a deep scar, crisscrossed with whip marks, and a large imprint covering half his face. Combined with that ferocious look in his eyes, he was terrifying to behold.

“I need your team to investigate the traces of werewolves in the destroyed village,” Corleon said.

“I will find them,” Hode grinned.

“If you discover the werewolves, I permit you to launch an attack after assessing the situation—but remember, you are not alone. You are with three brothers,” Corleon warned him.

“These are werewolves capable of slaughtering an entire village.”

Hode reined in his vicious grin and said softly, “Rest assured, I won’t lead my brothers to their deaths.”

Corleon nodded. “Let your brothers rest well today. Clean your armor and weapons. When the Morning Star rises tomorrow, I will bestow Blessings upon you.”

“Yes,” Hode bowed slightly.

After Hode left, Corleon wrote a letter and had it sent to Garcia Village.

Half a month ago, Knight Wolf had already dispatched men to clear the werewolves, but no news had come since.

And now, things had escalated to the point of a village massacre.

Clearly, this was not the work of just three or five werewolves.

Werewolves were natural hunters, but regular low-ranked ones could only match well-armed elite warriors.

A village had twenty-four guards, several experienced hunters, and some strong adult men—even women could take up arms when needed.

With that kind of defense, it would take more than twenty werewolves to possibly wipe out a village.

Yet more than twenty werewolves had slipped into York Territory and wiped out a village without leaving a trace.

Something about this made no sense.

Thus, Corleon wrote a letter to Nyx, wanting to ask about the current state of the werewolf situation.

While villagers’ chatter served as a source of information, for more accurate details, one had to rely on those in power.

The church was about half a day away from Garcia Village.

Factoring in the time to gather information, a reply would come by tomorrow morning.

Outside the church, seven people were waiting nearby.

Noticing Corleon looking their way, they hesitated before walking over together.

Their village had no gentry family protection.

News of the massacre had terrified them.

They dared not return and begged Corleon for protection.

Corleon naturally did not refuse and allowed them to stay in the church overnight.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep