75 - Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Chapter 75: What a Thrilling Case of Faith Manipulation! Within the walls of the Heavenly Doctrine Church's interior, the air was suffused with a hushed reverence. "May our Lord bless you and cleanse your ailments, granting you wellness in body and spirit." Mozel, clad in a black church robe, spoke with a smile to the devout elderly follower before him. Once the worshipper left and the congregation dwindled to a sparse few, Mozel's expression morphed into one of weariness. He had been busy all morning with confessions, and they had finally come to a close. Accompanied by a priest, Mozel briskly exited the church. As he walked, he casually inquired, "What's the situation on Tyril's side?" "Your Grace, they’ve been unusually quiet lately, seemingly staying cooped up in their mansion without going anywhere." "Have they met with anyone of interest?" "That's unknown for now, but there shouldn't be any blunders." "Don't be too complacent." Mozel suddenly halted. "I've just received news that the unexpected death of the heir of the Mosgra family has infuriated the second prince, who is now coming to Orne City to personally deal with the culprit." "Calculating the time, his arrival should be within this week. I don't want His Highness to find a shambles when he arrives." "Understood!" At that moment, a harried-looking cleric rushed forward to meet them. "Bishop, there's been an incident." The cleric leaned close to Mozel, whispering hastily, his words igniting a shadow across Mozel's face. By the end of the report, Mozel slammed a fist against a nearby stone pillar in frustration. "Damn it! How dare those fools from the Slarne sect?!" "What idiots! They've ruined my grand plans!" Gone was the usually graceful and polite bishop, replaced by an image of fury and menace. "You think with Tyril's protection you can take root in Orne City unscathed? Be careful, or you might not see another sunrise!" These words, though more bluster than threat, reflected Mozel's inner turmoil. After all, his ability to contend with Duke Tyril over tax issues was only due to the backing he had. Most of the time, he had to feign compliance. If the Slarne sect truly had the duke's support, someone of his modest clerical rank wouldn’t stand a chance. It was his formidable backers, not Mozel himself, who truly held the power. After a prolonged silence, Mozel finally regained his composure, taking a deep breath to quell his agitation. "No matter, if it's just this one church seeking attention, let them." "As long as the other churches stand united, their schemes are nothing more than a pathetic, laughable performance." But Mozel overlooked something crucial. Sometimes alliances cobbled together are only superficially sturdy, with hidden fractures waiting to collapse like dominoes when provoked. As evening fell, a labor-weary Ramontah entered the confessional of the God of War's Great Cathedral. As a mere worshipper, he could only hope for an audience with a priest. After his confession, he felt a sense of spiritual cleansing and decided to depart with a mind at peace. But as he turned to leave, a thought struck him. "Father, does the church have any thoughts on today's events at the city square?" As a devout follower of the God of War, Ramontah held disdain for the sluggish worshippers of the Slarne sect, viewing them as heretical and better removed from the world. This belief was ingrained by the unresolvable enmity between the nations behind the two faiths, with each church's doctrines subtly embedding these prejudices into their followers’ minds. Even in the Holy Solan Empire, clashes between the two congregations were frequent. To most of the God of War’s followers, being overshadowed by the Slarne sect was humiliating. Hearing Ramontah's question, the priest paused before offering a standard reply, "Our Lord has his plans." After seeing off Ramontah, the priest stood in quiet contemplation before hurriedly seeking an audience with the diocesan bishop. "Lord Luke, nearly every confessor today has inquired about that incident." "I’m aware," Bishop Luke replied, a note of irritation in his voice. "The Patriarch himself has questioned me about the fluctuations in faith occurring here in Orne City!" "Damn it, the Heavenly Doctrine Church has caused us so much trouble!" The priest tentatively asked, "Should we consider making changes?" Bishop Luke fell into a thoughtful silence. "The Empire's frequent wars in recent years have destabilized our supply of faith power." Luke muttered under his breath, "The quantity of faith directly affects the state of the Divine Father." "For us, the utmost priority is not wealth but maintaining a firm grip on Orne City's pure source of faith and ensuring the populace's unwavering devotion." "Whoever orchestrated this truly understands the art of sowing discord and making allies—it’s diabolical." "Even knowing it's a trap, you’re left with no choice but to fall in." Bishop Luke said through gritted teeth. After a pause, he waved a hand toward the priest. "If all they want is money, let’s meet their demands." "The Slarne sect donated twenty thousand gold coins? Then we'll donate thirty thousand… no, fifty thousand!" "Let the whole city witness the unparalleled generosity and magnanimity of our God of War Cathedral!" The next day, the city square was packed once again. Spotting the donation box representing their church brimming with twice the gold as the Slarne sect's, worshippers of the God of War stood straighter, filled with pride. Rumors quickly spread through the city about the God of War Cathedral's lavish donation of fifty thousand gold coins for the support of disabled veterans. From this moment, the delicate balance began to unravel. By the seventh day, partly due to the Silent Church's precedent, the Fertile Church responded to harsh criticism from its followers by donating eighty thousand gold coins, reclaiming the top spot. On the same day, the God of War Cathedral added another twenty thousand to their donation, slipping to second place. On the eighth day, the Desolate Congregation, rivals of the Fertile Church, entered the fray. Simultaneously, the Silent Church, Fertile Church, God of War Cathedral, and the Slarne sect each made various additional contributions. Caught up in this fervor, the clergy found themselves unable to halt, for stopping now would mean yielding not only in gold but seeing their investments go to waste. Although Lin En harbored a grudge against the instigator of the current situation, he had no choice but to press on. By the ninth day, save for the Heavenly Doctrine Church and a handful of others still watching from the sidelines, the local twelve churches had all fallen into this pit with no return. This ignited a fervent wave among the populace. At this point, most of the donation boxes in the city square were filled to the brim with gold coins. By the tenth day, the Heavenly Doctrine Church remained the sole empty entity, while the other eleven churches had completely succumbed. In a forgotten corner, unnoticed, notices featuring Lin En Bartleon's portrait quietly appeared on all church blacklists. "What a brilliant young man!!! You're a bloody genius!!!" Deep into the night, the Augusta Manor resounded with Duke Tyril's boisterous laughter. How could he not rejoice? In just six days, the once barren donation boxes were overflowing with coins from various churches. A rough estimate suggested that one box could hold up to 100,000 Solan gold coins, and out of the twelve boxes, apart from the utterly empty one from the Heavenly Doctrine Church, most were filled to capacity. Even the few boxes that weren't fully filled contained at least fifty to sixty thousand coins. Adding it all up, nearly 900,000 gold coins were acquired! Originally, Duke Tyril anticipated collecting 500,000 gold coins in taxes from several border cities combined. But things had completely spun out of control now. From Orne City alone, they had gathered close to a million coins! This was a stark indication of how much wealth these corrupt parasites had embezzled over the years. What a thrilling case of faith manipulation! At this moment, Duke Tyril watched Lin En with a blazing gaze. An impulse surged within him—an urge to whisk him away and make him a lieutenant in his army. This young man was truly talented. To fulfill their agreement within only ten days was an outcome even Duke Tyril had not anticipated. Watching the Duke, Lin En remained unfazed and composed. Seeing this, Duke Tyril curbed his laughter and asked, "Now that it’s all over, why do you seem unhappy?" "Over?" Lin En shook his head, "We’re not done yet." "The biggest sheep has yet to be sheared." After all, Lin En had only fulfilled his promise to Duke Tyril thus far. The trial laid out by the Witch of Endings remained unrealized. Although recent events had shaken the faith of the Heavenly Doctrine Church’s followers, it wasn't enough to significantly weaken their belief. To change the future, Lin En decided to stoke the flames further. Seven updates asking for votes!!! Just to note, since the launch, there will be a guaranteed three chapters each day, striving to maintain four to five chapters daily. [In Read Mode, the next page cannot be loaded automatically. 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