Chapter 113: The Resurrection of Bai Ling

Link was momentarily stunned upon hearing this. It was truly a blow to the heart—placing the deity of faith beneath mortals, and even boldly declaring loyalty to mortals rather than gods. For those in the religious world, this was the greatest taboo; in many churches, such a declaration would immediately brand one a heretic, dragged out and burned at the stake.

If the Father God truly existed and was somewhat petty, Asmida might have been stripped of her Saint status at once. Yet the Father God of the Father God Cult was none other than Link himself; thus, there was no question of disrespect toward any deity. Loyalty to the Father God or the Archbishop was the same. So, although surprised, Link showed no displeasure. With a slight smile, he said, “Child, the Father God is merciful and great. Whether you pledge loyalty to Him or not will not affect your status as a Gold Saint. For a Saint, what matters is character, not blind obedience. If you choose to believe in the Father God, He will respond to you. Your status as a Gold Saint is a reward from the Father God—once given, there is no reason to take it back.”

Asmida, who had braced herself for severe punishment, was stunned by these words, then her face lit up with joy. “Archbishop, you—you mean it? The Father God will not punish me for my disrespect?”

Link shook his head with a smile. “Disrespect? No, you have shown no disrespect. Your actions are honest and courageous, qualities the Father God values greatly. He will not be angry; on the contrary, He will be pleased, for these are the noble traits a Saint must embody.”

Relieved, Asmida smiled softly. With her heart unburdened, she began to notice changes in her body, but instead of fear or anxiety, curiosity filled her eyes. She was particularly intrigued by the two prominent mounds on her chest. Being blind, she felt no usual shyness; her hands instinctively explored those curves—a gesture that made Link nearly lose his composure.

It was hard to blame him. Asmida’s clothes were too tight, resembling a second skin. The contours were so sharply defined that many areas were torn, revealing patches of smooth, pale skin. Even the strongest will would falter in such a situation.

Fortunately, after receiving the Saint’s Cloth legacy, Asmida’s senses had sharpened. She quickly detected a change in Link’s aura and realized her indiscretion. Her cheeks flushed as she stopped immediately. Seeing this, Link cleared his throat awkwardly and changed the subject. “Those wicked ones just now were struck down by the Father God’s divine punishment. I’ll go back and check if any escaped. Will you stay here or come with me?”

“I’ll go with you,” Asmida replied hastily. Staying alone in such a haunted place would be torture for someone blind. Of course, she wanted to accompany him.

Link nodded, but glanced at her with a hint of hesitation. Previously, he had carried Asmida on his back without issue, as she was a small child then. But now, she had blossomed into a graceful young woman—a beauty whose clothes barely contained her figure. This made him somewhat embarrassed.

Of course, Link would never refuse to carry her. Grown-up Asmida was a rare gem—her figure, looks, and personality all aligned with his ideals. Compared to the old and young women of the church, Asmida was the only one he genuinely cared for, and felt no physiological resistance or unease toward.

If it were possible, Link wouldn’t mind taking their relationship further. But although she looked mature, Asmida was only thirteen. Crossing that boundary would torment his conscience. Thus, he found himself torn.

Just as Link hesitated over whether to carry her, Asmida softly called for the Virgo Gold Cloth. Instantly, the Saint’s Cloth disassembled and clad her body. Clenching her fists joyfully, she said, “Archbishop, the Virgo Gold Cloth is truly amazing. Wearing it, I feel light as a feather, as if gravity has no hold on me. My perception of the surroundings has become much sharper—I can even clearly sense the shape and position of every blade of grass around me. Now I can keep pace with you on my own two feet and won’t slow you down anymore.”

“That’s good,” Link smiled, though inwardly he longed to slap himself and cursed his own foolishness for fretting over such a trivial matter. Here was a stunning beauty willing to be carried, and he hesitated? Even without doing anything, just being close to her a little would be nice! Now that she insisted she could keep up, what excuse did he have to carry her? Truly, he was destined to be lonely forever.

With a heavy heart, Link and Asmida set out toward the excavation site. The excuse of checking for escaped enemies was just that—an excuse. In truth, Link wanted to see if the foes had left behind any treasures. Though the enemy had been wiped out, such a large group surely left something behind, especially at an ancient ruin like the excavation site. There had to be something valuable.

Yet Link had clearly underestimated the destructive power of a godly-powered Gold Saint. Upon their return, all that remained was a wasteland. Every building had collapsed, buried in mud. Not a single living creature remained—not even a mouse. The ruins were once again entombed beneath the earth.

Faced with this, Link could only return with Asmida, resigned. Along the way, he assessed her strength and found she could muster power around the fifth tier. Though her strength was considerable, her technique was nearly nonexistent, making her combat effectiveness negligible.

Still, the power of the Gold Cloth was undeniable. Keep in mind that Asmida had neither awakened her Seventh Sense nor mastered her cosmos; she was a mage untrained in martial arts. Yet wearing the Gold Cloth granted her fifth-tier power. This spoke volumes about the Cloth’s strength. If Saga donned it, he could easily reach above the seventh tier.

Link felt some regret. Once a Gold Cloth chooses its wearer, it will never be worn by another unless the wearer dies. He couldn’t very well kill an official Gold Saint just to have Saga wear it. He had invested ten points of divine power into Asmida, and now she had inherited the Virgo Gold Cloth. With her talent, she would soon become a formidable force.

Moreover, it was uncertain whether the Virgo Cloth would accept Saga. In the original legend, Virgo was a magic-type Cloth, with combat skills in the realm of sorcery. Saga was a pure martial artist. If the Virgo Cloth rejected martial types, there was nothing Link could do.

Thinking it through, Link no longer felt regret. He was never one to dwell on the past; there was no use regretting what was done. It only brought trouble. Better to focus on doing things well.

After testing Asmida’s strength, Link prepared to leave the forest. Still bothered by the lack of loot, he resigned himself and went to the site where Adam and the Thunder Dragon had been utterly destroyed. The result: no treasures found. Yet the system delivered an unexpectedly delightful notification.

“Ding. Detected spiritual pet soul response of the host. Would the host like to spend five points of divine power to resurrect the spiritual pet? As the entity that devoured the pet has died, the pet’s remains can be absorbed during resurrection to enhance the spiritual pet.”

“A spiritual pet? You mean Bailing? Wonderful! I can resurrect and strengthen Bailing!” Link was elated and chose to resurrect without hesitation. Bailing was more than a pet; she was a dear companion. Even if enhancement weren’t possible, he would have resurrected her without doubt.

After spending five points of divine power, Link had expended a total of twenty-five points that day. His goal of one hundred thousand faith points now seemed further away, with only about forty-six thousand remaining.

Still, Link felt no regret. Though the investment was great, the returns were plentiful. A single Gold Saint with limitless potential was worth every point spent.

Under the catalyst of divine power, a flame of soul fire ignited above the Thunder Dragon’s remains. The remains floated without wind, drawn toward the soul fire, slowly taking the shape of a great bird.

Asmida, beside him, looked on with awe and asked, “Archbishop, what is happening? Has the Father God manifested again? I suddenly feel a profound aura ahead, as if life is being granted to something.”

Link, in high spirits, laughed and said, “Yes, the Father God has revealed Himself. He tells me the Thunder Dragon that devoured Bailing is dead. Bailing’s soul is freed and can be resurrected and strengthened using the Thunder Dragon’s remains. Asmida, Bailing is about to be reborn.”

Asmida was overwhelmed with joy and awe. The resurrection of the dead, especially the remaking of a body, was a miraculous divine act. How great was the Father God—truly omnipotent! Was this what a true god was like?

As she thought this, her reverence for the Father God deepened. Yet upon seeing Link, her heart trembled, suppressing the impulse to bow in worship. Silently, she resolved, “The Father God is infinitely great, but I cannot pledge loyalty to Him. My loyalty belongs solely to the Archbishop. No one else can command my submission, even if the Archbishop stands against the gods—I will stand with him.”

Asmida kept this resolve to herself, never revealing it to anyone. Yet no one could have guessed that her steadfast will would, in a future crisis, save Link and the Father God Cult from annihilation.