Chapter 83: The Seventh Day

The laughter interspersed in that man’s speech sounded somewhat grating to George.

He thought of Yara from Daniels Village, and also of the several conflicts he had with the Daniels Family.

“So, are you trying to tell me not to trust him?” George asked.

“No, no, no, just as I said, your power makes them harbor the greatest goodwill towards you, and that goodwill includes their promises,” the man said.

“So his promises to you are all genuine, and you can trust them.”

“Then why are you telling me this? Are you worried that I’ll leave here and enter the manor?”

“No, I believe in the Church, believe in the Church’s benevolence, and of course, I believe in your benevolence.” The man bowed deeply.

“So, what do you mean by telling me this?” George was somewhat puzzled.

“Just want you to know that person’s true purpose,” the man said.

“But what can I do even if I know?” George said.

“You don’t need to do anything, and moreover, it’s best if you do nothing.” The man laughed, this time without sarcasm.

“We will take care of everything; you don’t need to do anything, or rather, you only need to guard against werewolf attacks.”

“…” George fell silent.

“Sorry to disturb you, sir, I still have to help out.”

As he spoke, the man suddenly seemed to have weak legs, knelt down, and kept kowtowing, as if pleading or begging George.

Then he rolled on the ground in a comical manner, crawling away.

Laughter sounded from behind.

George’s body stiffened, and his lips twitched slightly.

…

At night, the food thrown down from the manor was only half of what it was during the day.

“You all know, the food in the village is scarce, and we don’t know how long we’ll have to guard here, so from now on, we need to eat sparingly,” Darren said.

The commoners outside the manor could only add some unknown wild vegetables to the pot, making do with what they had.

George and the Temple Warriors were each given a small piece of bread by Darren.

“This is an extra ration for combat personnel,” the guard who delivered the bread said to George.

As darkness fell, the commoners held farming tools in their hands and gathered under the faintly glowing cross.

This was the large cross that Corleon had specially blessed for him before departure.

During the day, its light was not apparent, but at night, this faint glow could illuminate their path forward.

George held the Holy Scriptures and preached to the villagers.

The darkness made them fearful; only the faint glow of the cross and George’s preaching brought them a moment of peace.

George saw the man he had spoken with during the day.

The other stood at the edge of the cross’s faint glow, wrapped in black burlap, blending into the night. If not paying special attention, it was easy to overlook him.

In the deep night, under the illumination of the Holy Light, everyone endured hunger and fell asleep.

George stayed awake all night, vigilant against werewolves.

…

The next day, the food quantity was still halved.

The commoners worked with voices full of resentment; they even assigned a few people to sneak out and gather some wild vegetables.

George stayed by the cross, taking a short rest.

Moreover, after speaking with that man in black robes yesterday, he didn’t dare to leave the cross easily.

Because of this, he could see that the man in black robes, while working, consciously moved near some people, as if saying something.

As night fell again, the food was still halved. George and the Temple Warriors threw the extra bread given by the manor into the pot to cook.

When George preached the Holy Scriptures again, the commoners outside the manor were swaying, as if they had no strength to stand.

George noticed that there seemed to be more people outside the cross’s faint glow than yesterday.

On the wooden wall, some strong men from the manor were also quietly listening.

That night, there were still no signs of werewolves.

…

On the third day after George’s arrival, the villagers stopped working.

Their physical strength was severely lacking.

The defensive structures had accumulated to some extent; at least if werewolves really attacked, they would need to climb over.

Darren’s guards on the manor’s wooden wall scolded them, telling them to continue working and fill the fortifications.

But the villagers only twitched their bodies a couple of times, pretending to work.

At night, the food thrown out from the manor was even less than before.

Darren’s guards said this was punishment for not working seriously.

Only useful people could eat their fill.

The villagers only looked somewhat dazed, without protesting.

George and the Temple Warriors still threw their extra bread into the pot, even adding the wheat flour they carried.

They drank the soup mixed with unknown ingredients together with the villagers.

After eating, George continued to muster his energy to preach.

This time, under the glow, there were even fewer people, only some elderly so thin they were skin and bones, barely able to walk.

On the manor’s wooden wall, more people were listening; they just listened quietly.

In the dark night, only George’s preaching voice could be heard.

That night, the werewolves still did not come.

…

On the fourth day after George’s arrival, someone died of starvation.

George wanted to cremate them, but was stopped by the commoners.

They said the deceased was their friend, their companion, and they wanted to bury the dead.

George fell silent, looking at their hungry eyes, and finally closed his eyes.

When he opened his eyes, the corpse was gone, and he seemed to hear screams and wails coming from the manor.

The Temple Warriors looked at George, and after hesitating, George only shook his head.

At night, because someone had died, the food thrown out from the manor was even less.

This time, even George and the Temple Warriors didn’t get any bread.

They ate the same food as the commoners, all in silence.

After eating, this time, under the faint glow of the cross, no commoners came; they all seemed to be hiding in the darkness.

There were more people on the wooden wall; some listened silently to the preaching, some knelt on the ground, as if confessing.

That night, the werewolves still did not come.

…

On the fifth day after George’s arrival, George no longer knew how many people had starved to death.

He had seen many people disappear, but had not seen any corpses.

A guard from the manor came again to recruit George.

But George only shook his head.

So, after the guard left, he could hear people in the manor moving more frequently.

At night, the manor did not throw down any food.

The villagers made no sound, not even curses or complaints.

They just silently watched the manor with lit torches from places not illuminated by the Holy Light.

George forced himself to endure hunger and preached loudly.

This time, not only outside the village, but even behind the wooden wall, there were no shadows.

That night, the werewolves still did not come.

…

On the sixth day after George’s arrival, he could no longer see any commoners outside the manor.

Behind the manor’s wooden wall, there were also no shadows.

They seemed to have collectively disappeared.

The manor threw out a package, containing flatbread and freshly slaughtered, fresh meat.

The Temple Warriors looked at George with angry eyes, but George only shook his head.

He picked up the flatbread and shared it with the Temple Warriors.

As for that piece of fresh meat, he buried it under the cross.

At night, the manor did not throw down any food.

George used the energy from the flatbread he ate during the day to continue preaching.

This time, it was completely silent.

That night, the werewolves still did not come.

…

On the seventh day after George’s arrival, outside the fortifications built by the commoners, a flag was erected.

It was a purple flag, with a cross painted in blood.

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