Chapter 159: The Growing Tree of the Night

If Wang Yu were right, this newfound ability to resist mental corruption would be transformative for the Nightblades—Hugin was absolutely certain of it. The moment Wang Yu explained the faith network that linked all the believers of the Lady of the Night together, Hugin grasped its profound significance.

The primary enemies of the Nightblades had always been void entities steeped in mental corruption.

Their greatest cause of attrition wasn’t battlefield casualties, but rather the gradual erosion of their minds. With every mission, their mental resilience was worn down—until one day, the string that tethered them to sanity simply snapped.

There were no known effective methods for restoring the mind, and by extension the soul, across the entire continent.

Even detection of the problem was a challenge. The soul was impervious to most forms of sight, and without a systematic method of assessment, it was difficult to even determine the extent to which an individual had been tainted by mental corruption.

Dealing with the resulting problem was even more complicated. Aside from relying on the soul’s natural capacity to regenerate, there were only a handful of exceedingly rare natural treasures that had any restorative effects on live souls. While various items could repair the souls of the dead, they acted by entirely different mechanisms that were inapplicable to the living.

These soul-healing treasures were extraordinarily difficult to find and were far beyond the reach of ordinary Nightblades.

Did the kingdom have such artifacts in reserve? The answer was undoubtedly affirmative. A great kingdom would naturally collect and store precious items for times of need.

But such resources were reserved for figures of Hugin and Sieg’s caliber, and only if deemed necessary. For the average Nightblade, such an option was out of the question.

For those unwavering Nightblades whose sanity gradually eroded away until it finally cracked, the only fate awaiting them was to live out their days in a border sanitarium.

Those seemingly idyllic institutions, however, concealed a stifling reality beneath their caretakers’ warm smiles—one that even Hugin was reluctant to confront. The facilities were devoid of void corruption, yet their oppressive atmosphere could make even the healthiest individual struggle for breath.

What Wang Yu had created fundamentally overturned this tragic reality. Mental corruption would no longer be a scourge upon the Nightblades. No longer would these resolute knights be tormented by the anguish of their decaying minds.

The moment Wang Yu revealed to Hugin and Gilbert that faith in the Lady of the Night could divert mental corruption, both men could sense the Nightblades’ impending renaissance.

As for Wang Yu, his contribution far exceeded the highest forms of respect that Hugin and Gilbert could offer him. Though he had never pursued noble ideals or aspired to greatness, there was no denying that he would become the benefactor of every Nightblade.

“Your contribution will never be forgotten.” Hugin solemnly saluted Wang Yu, unfazed by the act of showing deference to a subordinate.

“I will repay this debt,” Gilbert declared without hesitation. Even without considering the greater implications at stake, Wang Yu had directly preserved Gilbert’s mental integrity amidst overwhelming corruption—he was, without a doubt, his savior.

“As always, just remember to keep this a secret. This is more sensitive than my identity as the Archbishop of the Church of Nightfall. I’ll let that secret slip gradually—as the church expands, it’ll become harder to hide my identity.”

Wang Yu thought it over. For now, he couldn’t publicly claim credit for this achievement. It was enough for Hugin to inform the Nightblades about the existence of the Prayer Network.

Wang Yu anticipated that the Nightblades would see an explosive growth in faith toward the Lady of the Night. No one understood the benefits of her faith better than they did.

Their recognition of the deity would ensure their sincerity, which in turn would significantly strengthen the Lady of the Night’s power. This was mutual benefit at its finest—and Wang Yu himself stood to gain immensely from it.

When necessary, both the Church of Nightfall and the Nightblades served as his backers. During his confrontation with the Golden Rain Coalition, he had already glimpsed the potential threats within the capital that went beyond outright war. More layers of security were always welcome.

However, Wang Yu soon realized that he had underestimated the impact of the Prayer Network on the Nightblades. With a smile, Hugin agreed to keep Wang Yu’s role a secret. Then, he relayed a critical message through the standard Nightblade channels: those who placed their faith in the Lady of the Night would gain the ability to have their mental corruption siphoned away.

This revelation spread through the Nightblades’ communication channels like wildfire. Warriors resting at the Echoing Hearth, operatives in the midst of missions, or even retired veterans who had left the field due to injury or age—upon learning that faith in the Lady of the Night could purge mental corruption, none of the Nightblades hesitated. They prayed, earnestly and sincerely.

Hugin informed the other squad leaders of the news personally. Those squad leaders informed their team captains, who relayed it to their team members.

Within five minutes, the news had reached almost every single Nightblade, except those who were completely cut off from communication.

“O great Lady of the Night, I pray to you…” These words, originally made up by Wang Yu and the Lady of the Night for the holy scripture of the Church of Nightfall, now resonated within the minds and hearts of the Nightblades. They were spoken with profound sincerity.

A summons from Wang Yu’s mindscape bade him enter. As he did so, he marveled at the towering tree that stood over his tranquil lake. Beside it, a tall woman had risen from her rocking chair, gazing at the intense transformation that the tree was undergoing.

“It is growing larger… I can feel it. Many new believers have sprouted on this tree, which represents my power. It flourishes, and these new believers—their faith is pure. Devout.”

The Lady of the Night’s ethereal voice echoed in Wang Yu’s mind. It was her summons that had drawn him into the mindscape.

The colossal tree, whose surface resembled the starry night, now shimmered with the unique radiance of celestial bodies. The stars representing the Lady’s believers, once scattered sparsely across the boundless expanse, were multiplying at a visible rate.

What was once a desolate night sky was now brimming with new life. It was entirely different from the dead, albeit dazzling, constellations arcing above his mindscape.

The Tree of the Night was rapidly expanding as Nightblades embraced the Lady of the Night’s faith without hesitation. The Lady of the Night was not a powerful deity—but precisely because of that, what might have been trivial gains for other faiths resulted in a dramatic surge in her strength.

The tree grew. Its trunk thickened, and its once simplistic, almost illusory branches and leaves gained depth and texture as they became real.

The once-stagnant bark flickered with movement. Stars pulsed gently, faint streams of light flowing between them, as new stars blossomed into life in waves, creating a mesmerizing, living cosmos.

“These must be the newly converted Nightblades—I suppose they’re testing out the real-time communication offered by the Tree of the Night…”

Wang Yu marveled at the twinkling stars, and the Lady of the Night reveled in the surge of power she had received.

“My friend, this is extraordinary. I can feel it—my power is undergoing a qualitative change due to these new believers. And this tree… It is evolving into something new.”

Rather than simply growing taller, its branches were spreading outward, unfurling in all directions, adjusting itself to accommodate its believers.

Was this the nature of divinity?

Wang Yu wasn’t certain. But one thing was clear—the Tree of the Night was changing. Faith could influence a god. That was something the Lady of the Night had told him herself.

Even so, the Lady of the Night’s own form remained unchanged. Was that a good thing, or not? She had once said that she wished to remain herself, not a prisoner of her divinity.

Now, the once-barren Tree of the Night had become a flourishing giant of the cosmos.

Stars slowly moved from the trunk to newly grown branches and leaves, bringing the believers closer together and reducing the energy needed for communication. The tree, empowered by its followers, had assumed a new form.

“Well… I wouldn’t call it extraordinary. My circumstances just happened to align with yours. Compared to the philosophers at the Academy who explore the essence of life, I’d say I just got lucky—and happened to be able to talk to you.

“To be honest, the God of Light and other deities should be capable of this as well. It’s just that no one else has thought to apply this ability in this way.”

The ability to divide, and thereby eliminate, mental corruption seemed to be a universal feature among deities, but only Wang Yu had managed to exploit it in full, and even then, only by chance. He had programmed the void, a groundbreaking step that transformed the vertical communion between believers and their deity into horizontal channels of communication among the believers themselves. This key step had catalyzed the metamorphosis of the Tree of the Night.

Perhaps only a peculiar figure like Wang Yu, meeting an equally peculiar deity like the Lady of the Night, could have made this step a reality.

“This is good. We should also let the members of the Church of Nightfall in the capital’s shadow know about it. Even if they don’t benefit from the resistance against mental pollution, communication among believers will still be useful.”

Wang Yu looked back at the giant tree, its starlit canopy twinkling against the night sky. Honestly, he really did feel quite accomplished.

Wang Yu bowed to the Lady of the Night, then opened his eyes and exited his mindscape. He was just about to continue his conversation with Hugin when he suddenly noticed something unusual. Near the window of Hugin’s office, a strangely familiar rocking chair had appeared out of nowhere.

The Lady of the Night’s figure slowly took form before she settled into the rocking chair, which swayed gently.

Wang Yu scratched his head, unsure why the Lady of the Night had suddenly appeared.

Hugin seemed far more startled. He had instinctively reached for his lantern as he shot up from his desk—but after a brief moment, realization dawned and he sat back down.

“This is the Lady of the Night.” Wang Yu gestured toward her and introduced her to Hugin and Gilbert. It wouldn’t do for them to mistake her as an intruder.

“Greetings, Lady,” Hugin hesitated briefly before rising and bowing.

The sudden fluctuation in the void had nearly made him draw his weapon, ready to face an invasion. Only after a moment did he realize just who had arrived.

This was the second time today that his usually composed and experienced demeanor had been shaken. After all, no one had ever told him what sort of etiquette one was to follow upon meeting a manifestation of a deity. Should he have knelt immediately?

Considering the Church of Nightfall’s attitude, which frowned on ostentatious displays in favor of private, intimate communion, Hugin figured it wasn’t necessary.

“What brings you here? Manifesting an avatar outside the capital’s shadow will drain quite a bit of your power, won’t it?”

Wang Yu, with as little regard for formalities as ever, directly questioned the Lady of the Night over her sudden appearance in the Nightblades’ headquarters.

“Many of these Nightblades here have already become my followers. Within this domain, manifesting an avatar is no longer an issue. It does not require a continuous expenditure of power, though it hardly remains as effortless as within the Church of Nightfall.”

That made sense. A significant number of Nightblades had chosen to worship the Lady of the Night after learning that her faith could help divert mental pollution. Over seventy percent had already converted, and once the remaining members received word, that percentage would likely rise even further.

With so many Nightblades becoming her followers, the Nightblades’ headquarters—while lacking the capital’s shadow’s unique blend of void and reality—was, for the Lady of the Night, functionally no different from another church of hers.

“And as for my purpose in coming here, Wang Yu is my archbishop. As his deity, I am his superior. Is that not so?”

Hugin frowned slightly at this odd question, but after a moment’s thought, he nodded in agreement. While “superior” was a strange term to use between an archbishop and his deity, it wasn’t exactly incorrect.

“And you, as one of the leaders of the Nightblades, are also Wang Yu’s superior, correct?” the Lady of the Night continued. Once again, Hugin hesitated for a moment before nodding.

“Then I believe that, as another of Wang Yu’s superiors, I should hold a position within the Nightblades similar to yours.”

Hugin nearly choked—the Lady of the Night wanted an official position within the Nightblades? Despite being a deity, she was… seeking employment?

Moreover, she seemed to be placing herself on equal footing with him. The idea of standing on the same level as a deity left him feeling both flattered and overwhelmed.

Wang Yu turned to look at the Lady of the Night. Now what was the meaning of this?

Her reasoning was bizarre, but her innate divinity granted all her actions a strange sense of legitimacy. And somehow, Wang Yu could detect an unspoken “I’ve got your back” in her words.

Well, what else was there to say? He could only shrug and look at Captain Hugin to see how he would respond.

“It would be an honor, Lady,” Hugin replied, trying to keep a smile off his face…

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