Chapter Forty: The Compensation of the War God Sect

Perhaps what the Celestial Spirit Church truly desires is merely a tool bearing the title of Grand Priestess, not a leader who could usher the church into glory.

Gazing at Lingmeng, whose expression remained calm and indifferent to her own fate, Link sighed and said, “I understand. For now, you can stay at the Father God Church; let’s not mention service anymore—I don’t need you to serve me, nor will I restrict your freedom. Just let me know if you plan to go anywhere.”

Hearing such favorable terms, Lingmeng showed no sign of joy. Instead, she furrowed her brows in worry. “If you don’t want me to do anything, are you planning not to feed me?”

Link was amused and replied, “What are you thinking? How could I not feed you? It’s just that there’s nothing here that requires your help. Just behave yourself and don’t cause trouble.”

“Oh, that’s good then.” Lingmeng breathed a sigh of relief, but soon frowned again. “But if you don’t let me work, you won’t pay me, right? When will I be able to earn a hundred thousand Sola?”

Link stared at Lingmeng in speechless disbelief for a long moment before finally asking, “Why do you always mention a hundred thousand Sola? Is it really that important to you?”

“Of course. I told you before, didn’t I? When I was little, I was often hungry. But once, I overheard someone in the church say that if you earned a hundred thousand Sola, you’d never have to worry about food for the rest of your life. So I made a vow; I must earn a hundred thousand Sola.” Lingmeng recounted her story in a flat tone, then looked at Link with hope. “If a hundred thousand Sola a year is too much, then just give me ten thousand a year. That way, after ten years, I’ll have it. Don’t worry, I know many things. Whatever you ask of me, I’ll surely do it well.”

Link wasn’t sure whether to pity Lingmeng or laugh at her. Her story was touching, but her subsequent words left him speechless. As for her claim of knowing many things, Link didn’t expect much. What could a Grand Priestess, raised as a tool and lacking basic common sense, possibly do? In his eyes, Lingmeng was little more than a beautiful but empty vase.

Just as Link was about to casually ask what Lingmeng could do, he suddenly sensed someone eavesdropping outside the door. His brows furrowed. In the Father God Church, no one should dare spy on him—so who could it be?

With this thought, Link quietly moved to the door and pulled it open. Seeing who was outside, he was taken aback. “Elia, what are you doing out here?”

“I—I…” Already startled, Elia was even more flustered by his words, unsure what to do. After a long pause, she dropped her head like a child caught misbehaving. “Sorry, Brother Neil. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop…”

Link could never be angry with his little sister. He smiled gently and said, “Don’t worry, I’m not mad. But is there something you need?”

At his words, Elia recollected her purpose, her cheeks flushing as she instinctively glanced at the calm Lingmeng. She bit her lip, then asked, “Brother Neil, her name is Lingmeng, right?”

Link nodded, rubbing his nose. “Yes, she’s Lingmeng, the Grand Priestess of the Celestial Spirit Church. Didn’t I tell you yesterday about our alliance with them? She’s here as their hostage.”

Elia nodded in understanding, her gaze toward Lingmeng tinged with sympathy. Then her expression turned resolute. “Sister Lingmeng, I know all about your situation. Though your background is tragic, I won’t lose to you!” With that, her cheeks bloomed red, she shot Link a coquettish glance, and then hurried away with her head bowed.

Faced with Elia’s declaration of challenge, Lingmeng was baffled. “What did she mean? She won’t lose to me? Is her goal to earn a hundred thousand Sola too?”

Link could only laugh helplessly. As someone who understood, he knew exactly why Elia issued her challenge, but he decided it best not to explain. With Lingmeng’s level of common sense, it would only complicate matters. So he left her question unanswered, arranged a guest room for Lingmeng, and went off to deal with the troubles she brought him.

As expected, within half a day, rumors about Link and Lingmeng spread throughout the town. Much of this owed to Lingmeng’s beauty. In a rural place like Kinke Town, she was unquestionably a goddess-level figure, so those who left the church were especially enthusiastic in their gossip, embellishing the tale until Lingmeng was painted as a divine maiden descended to earth, a saint reborn.

Some claimed Lingmeng was sent by the Father God himself to reward Link for his contributions, serving him as a celestial maiden.

Others said she was an envoy of an evil god, sent to seduce Link and lead him astray, spinning the tale so convincingly that some believed it.

Seeing the rumors grow ever more fantastical, Link had to publicly refute them, stating that Lingmeng was simply an emissary sent by another church to form an alliance, not what the townsfolk imagined. He also emphasized that he and Lingmeng shared a pure, platonic relationship with no hidden secrets.

The advantage of a theocratic society became clear here. Had this happened on Earth or in a place of weak faith, Link’s denial would have only fueled suspicion. But in Kinke Town, where everyone believed in Link and all were at least intermediate devotees, his words carried more weight than any decree. No one doubted him; trust was absolute. Thus, once Link clarified the rumors, people stopped speculating about him and Lingmeng.

However, discussions about Lingmeng continued unabated. Though she appeared only briefly, Lingmeng left a deep impression on many. In this town where noble ladies were rare, a beauty of her caliber was destined to be a subject of conversation for a long time.

But Link had no desire to meddle in such matters. With the rumors settled, he quickly refocused on developing the church, for the emissaries of the War God Church had arrived.

Just as Altaïr predicted, the War God Church came seeking peace—and wanted to ransom their captives. Many had died in that great battle, but there were still numerous prisoners, whom Link had kept. All those who could be converted were brought over with the ritual of confession.

Yet Link did not let these converts become his followers. When the War God Church’s emissaries sought their return, Link sent them all back. Little did the War God Church know that these people were now loyal followers of Link, willing to do anything for him!

Indeed, Link intended them as undercover agents.

Of course, though Link had decided to send them back, he wouldn’t let the War God Church take them easily. He boldly demanded thirty thousand Sola as compensation, nearly causing the emissaries to leave in indignation.

Thirty thousand Sola was no small sum. The War God Church had considerable yearly income, but also many expenses. Their current reserves barely exceeded thirty thousand. Link’s demand would empty their coffers entirely, making the emissaries wonder whether there was an informant among their leaders—how else could Link know their exact reserves?

When appeals to poverty and pleas for mercy failed, the War God Church’s emissary resorted to threatening that if Link pressed further, they would fight the Father God Church to the death.

Link simply smiled, then led the emissary to the dungeon to meet someone. Upon seeing this person, the emissary’s expression changed dramatically, and without another word, he agreed to all of Link’s demands, terrified Link might change his mind.

The person Link showed him was none other than Altaïr, head of the Assassin’s Creed!

After the emissary arrived, Altaïr had asked Link to lock him in the dungeon, posing as a captive to make the emissary cautious. Altaïr assured him that, given how highly the War God Church valued him, they would agree to any terms—even thirty thousand Sola plus a third of their church buildings.

In the end, besides the thirty thousand Sola, the War God Church also gave up their chapels in the towns surrounding Kinke. To prevent any deceit, Link insisted the ransom would only be paid once all compensation arrived; until then, they would release captives in proportion to what was given, with Altaïr being the last to go.

Ultimately, the War God Church’s emissary returned with a contract that essentially sold off a fifth of their church. When their leaders saw it, they’d likely sacrifice the emissary in fury.

Still, no matter how angry they became, as long as Altaïr remained with the Father God Church, they wouldn’t dare make trouble, and would pay the compensation as required. After all, Altaïr, a third-tier assassin, was far more valuable than any ransom.

With the thirty thousand Sola from the War God Church, the Father God Church’s finances became much more robust. Though they had earned a fair amount recently, expenses had left little behind. More people meant more costs, and with the orphanage and school construction underway, plus miscellaneous expenses, Link’s funds dwindled.

It must be said, opening schools and orphanages was truly costly. Even just buying materials and hiring workers was a sizeable expense, and once built, recruiting teachers and staff added even more. The first fiscal report startled Link, revealing why education was so poor in the world of Sola.

Without enough productivity, the country and its people were impoverished. How could they afford to open schools in every town? If they tried, the nation would soon collapse into chaos. Thus, even though opening schools and orphanages was a noble cause, few were willing or able to support such efforts.

Nevertheless, no matter how hard the journey, Link’s resolve to establish orphanages and schools would not waver. He believed that, once through the initial hardship, his grand vision of creating orphanages and schools wherever the Father God Church’s faith reached would be realized.

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So few votes for recommendation~ Begging, pleading, rolling, lying down—any kind of vote, please~~~