HTLCCBFT Chapter 232

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 232

With the aid of the cat god’s divine power, they appeared directly before the old house they had left the previous night.

However, the house was now empty—not only was the Grand High Priest absent, but even the two fearless children who had stopped them last night were nowhere to be seen.

Though they had come in vain, Oliver wasn’t surprised. What concerned him more was the eerie emptiness of the streets in broad daylight, with all houses tightly shuttered.

It was evident that most public facilities in the outer city had completely ceased functioning.

The desolation far exceeded what he had imagined.

Frowning slightly, he turned to the deity beside him. “My dear cat god, could you guide me to the path that leads to Abino?”

The God of Wealth nodded earnestly.

For a deity brimming with divine power and motivated by his little companion’s expectations, locating an ordinary human’s traces within a capital city was simplicity itself.

“Found him.”

In less than the blink of an eye, his released divine sense successfully pinpointed Abino’s current location.

After casting a cheerful glance at Oliver, he unhesitatingly took his hand and channeled divine power, transporting them to the vicinity in the next instant.

—What Oliver never could have dreamed was that the faint ripple of emotion stirred by the cat god’s intimate gesture was instantly overwhelmed by the tidal wave of shock brought by the scene before him.

Abino was actually standing in the capital’s grand square—once bustling, now empty since the plague outbreak.

To be precise, he stood at the square’s sole raised platform with a large crowd behind him—likely where the sheriff used to announce Royal Decrees. The narrow steps leading up to the platform were packed with followers due to their numbers.

Arrayed across the flat ground of the square were knights who had been holed up in the inner city these days, wearing tall standardized steel helmets and gem-encrusted swords at their waists.

Behind them stood even more soldiers—also absent recently—now fully armed and poised to obey commands at any moment.

What was happening?

As this thought formed in Oliver’s mind, the Grand High Priest standing at the platform’s highest and foremost point called out to the general on the opposite wall’s arrow platform, his voice strikingly loud and unlike his usual aloof demeanor.

“Every person behind me once lived in this Royal City, toiling day after day. Before earning bread to feed themselves and their families, they never withheld a single copper coin in taxes.”

He clearly seemed uncomfortable in this position, his voice subtly stiff upon close listening, though no one paid it any mind now.

The portly general wore an expression of impatience, brows tightly furrowed, as if only tolerating the speech out of respect for the speaker’s former status as Grand High Priest. The other soldiers mirrored his attitude or remained utterly expressionless.

They awaited only a formal command to unhesitatingly raise their blades and axes against those unarmed civilians—many likely already afflicted by disease.

Abino continued, “Please tell me clearly, General Modelle[mfn]莫德尔(Mò dé’ěr) – I think it’s supposed to sound like ‘Model'[/mfn], as His Majesty’s subjects, what reason do they have to suffer attacks from the royal army after enduring the hardship of famine, the torment of plague, the pain of losing loved ones, and the despair of being despised by the world?”

The general named Modelle let out a faint snort and said coldly, “Lord Abino, as the supreme ruler of this kingdom, the sole favored one of God, the master of all with the noblest blood flowing in his veins, His Majesty does not need to explain his decisions to anyone—especially not to the lowly commoners. Not even you or I are exceptions. Tell me, Lord Abino, have you today betrayed God, abandoned the teachings of the divine temple, forsaken the expectations of all the noble beings in the inner city, and sided with those filthy, diseased wretches… Have you completely fallen and forgotten your origins?”

In truth, Modelle was well aware of why His Majesty had suddenly issued the order to suppress the outer city.

It was already the end of the Hunting Season, and the day of the neighboring envoy’s visit was drawing closer. The King, bored to death in the inner city, could neither bear to miss the most important revelry of the Autumn Hunt nor tolerate the idea of his capital, once a source of pride, no longer shining in its former glory. He could not accept presenting a scarred and unsightly appearance to the envoy from the neighboring kingdom.

Those once bustling streets and lively crowds had now become repulsive filth, lingering like stubborn vermin.

And since it was filth, it ought to be swiftly eradicated. The merciful King believed he had been tolerant enough—he had waited long enough.

Modelle declared loudly, “This is His Majesty’s capital! All filth that tarnishes His Majesty’s glory must be purged!”

Abino replied, “Then I ask you, General, to grant them passage. I swear on behalf of those who have remained loyal to His Majesty from beginning to end—if His Majesty would show even a shred of compassion and allow them to leave, as long as they have a breath left in them, they will forever stay away from this place. They will spread word of His Majesty’s mercy abroad and never return to cause trouble.”

Modelle feigned regret and sighed, “Unfortunately, His Majesty has already been magnanimous enough. Was the past half-month not sufficient for you to make the right decision? I have also brought a command from the Main Temple—Lord Abino, if you are willing to turn back from your misguided path and accept the punishment you deserve, the great and benevolent deity will still welcome your return.”

Abino did not respond to his mocking words.

His chest heaved slightly more noticeably as he scanned his surroundings. His crimson eyes, reflecting the bright yet cold sunlight, held deep scorn.

He no longer attempted to persuade Modelle as he had before, and he understood clearly that the commoners who had narrowly escaped the recent “expulsion”—which resembled a massacre—though far outnumbering the soldiers, were like lost lambs, their fragile and panicked minds no match for the arrogant elite soldiers before them.

Unless—

“Look”

Abino suddenly turned, facing the bewildered and despairing faces, his tone abruptly becoming unprecedentedly impassioned.

He was like a candle burned to its end, at the tip where the wick curled and wax pooled thickly, suddenly bursting forth with one final, blazing flare.

The dazzling flames seemed to exhaust their last accumulated strength in one final burst.

“The most important nobles do not care about the ants beneath their feet. Their noble heads remain forever raised, as if unwilling to lower their gaze to glance at the corpses on the ground. Yet such distinguished persons will unceremoniously prostrate themselves to greedily suck your last drop of blood, then drive you—now destitute and pitiful—out of ‘their territory,’ ‘their capital.’ Though you bear no guilt, you will be charged with nonexistent crimes and executed, not even permitted to starve or fall ill in homes you earned with your own money.”

His outburst was so sudden that no one had time to react.

Finally, Modelle, the general who feared being held accountable by His Majesty afterward, was so enraged he saw black spots before his eyes. He exploded on the spot: “Oh, you son of a bitch, red-eyed, white-haired demon, damned monster! How dare you insult His Majesty!!! Who gave you what to spout such shameless madness?!”

“‘Gave me what’?”

Abino repeated expressionlessly, shaking his head: “I did this willingly, Modelle. This noble happiness of awakening for an ideal, sacrificing for an ideal, and igniting more sparks through martyrdom… Modelle will never understand.”

“Before us lies the abyss, behind us the bridge has been cut off.” Abino’s voice grew calm and resolute, his speech entirely unaffected by Modelle as he continued addressing the stunned crowd: “Do not forget that Cameron, now seated on the throne, is a vile thief whose hands are stained with far more noble blood than the sinful blood flowing in his veins—a patricidal, fratricidal man destined to be despised by God. He lures similar sinners with immense benefits, forming a shameful alliance… while in Gregor City to the south, there exists a truly noble and kind being, blessed with divine favor.”

“What are you still waiting for?!” Modelle had lost all reason, brandishing his decorative longsword as he roared his final command: “Seize him! Bring him before His Majesty! When he weeps in repentance for every word he spoke, make him watch as his bones are carved out alive! And, archers!!!”

The city walls had descended into chaos, terrified by Modelle’s dreadful words, yet many archers snapped back to attention and obeyed Modelle’s order.

They strained to draw their longbows, nocked arrows, closed one eye, and carefully aimed at the Grand High Priest’s unprotected, slender back.

Targeting the spot directly over his heart.

“They have completely abandoned their faith in God. Under the glory of the truly benevolent Lord, they will bring about their own destruction. You must resist, leave this place, follow the true God and master worthy of your allegiance. Rather than suffering prolonged torment on a isolated island, it is better to die gloriously in an instant battling towering waves.”

Abino remained utterly motionless, as if entirely unaware of the danger behind him.

His eyes held only the faces glistening with tears, mingled despair and hope… like the surface of a lake in the deepest night, stirred by heavy winds.

The white mist gathered all the moonlight, and the lake water, which had become as dark and dull as thick ink, suddenly bloomed with scattered starlight.

The corners of his lips curved slightly, revealing a genuine smile somewhat similar to the one he had worn last night when he had personally witnessed the divine messenger he wholeheartedly believed in.

He knew.

At the final moment, he had already ignited that miraculous new spark in people’s eyes.

However, this was not enough. Now, he was about to take the final step to fully ignite it: only the fiercest hatred could transform people, who had been pushed to the brink of despair, from a flock of sheep into the most ferocious hunting dogs, tearing apart the wall formed by these wild wolves.

Under the urgent and tense tugs of his followers, instead of lying down to avoid the incoming arrows, he straightened his back even more, summoning all his strength to raise his arms and shout the two most important sentences in his heart.

“Noble and benevolent Lord Oliver Musta, my sacred master whom I follow with my life, soul, and faith, I beseech you to hear my wish.”

Abino, with his peculiar appearance, shone with divine light. At this moment, he no longer seemed like a gentle and compassionate priest but a fervent warrior—only blood splattered on the eyelids could awaken the numb.

He raised his arms high, shouting with all his might, “I offer everything I have to you, only wishing for your radiance to become a fixed star, fully awakening the suffering people of this land—”

Before he could finish, he caught the sharp sound of several arrows cutting through the air.

But before the anticipated pain could strike, at the critical moment, he was knocked unconscious by an unprecedented, formidable force, instantly losing consciousness.

Thus, he was unable to see or hear what followed, leaving everyone stunned—

A golden-haired youth dressed in a spotless white robe suddenly appeared within the golden mist formed by the God of Wealth. His slightly curled, flowing golden hair was resplendent, like a slowly blooming golden lotus or the bright moon gathering the silver glow of countless stars—a breathtakingly beautiful deity.

His pale golden eyelashes lowered slightly, concealing the dense clouds in his sea-blue eyes, his tone so calm it betrayed no ripple.

After rescuing the unconscious Grand High Priest, he had the cat god use divine power to transport him away while stating succinctly, “Your wish, I have heard it.”

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