Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 228
The heavy night enveloped the royal capital, its towering walls isolating the brilliant lights of the inner city. The cold moonlight cast shadows upon the buildings, adding a sinister and dreadful hue to the already lifeless outer city.
When Oliver, his features altered, arrived in the city through the cat god’s teleportation, he failed to recognize it as the beautiful capital deeply embedded in this body’s memories.
After quietly walking just two streets, Oliver let out a long sigh, his heart aching with sorrow.
This was a city torn apart by plague, a hell that devoured all hope.
If the initial Laina, the recently rebel-ravaged Albury, and the filthy, stinking slums of Gregor city still held faint threads of hope… then what remained for the people now was utter despair.
“How tragic,” he said heavily. “It’s only been a month and a half.”
Corpses lay scattered haphazardly along a short street—a clear indication that the deceased no longer had living relatives to bury them, or that those left behind could barely fend for themselves.
Houses stood empty; properties that once sold for nearly a hundred gold coins were now vacant. Some formerly neat and elegant homes had been brutally broken into, doors wide open, their original owners either having fled the disaster in time or perished from the disease.
Starving and desperate victims had broken locks to scavenge for leftover food. Even occupied homes frequently suffered theft and robbery—some had realized that the fearful guards wouldn’t intervene to stop them.
After all, compared to gaining noble favor or bullying commoners for momentary satisfaction, avoiding the dreadful plague was far more critical.
Unnoticed by Oliver, as he and the cat god stood lost in thought before a residence, many pairs of eyes watched the two unfamiliar faces warily from nearby.
Among them was the mother of the little boy named Kaendi.
Standing on tiptoe, she peered discreetly through a crack in the door, constantly speculating about their identities.
Were they reckless merchants who had come unaware of the plague outbreak in the capital? Or outsiders who, knowing the terrible epidemic, had come specifically to rescue relatives?
She licked her chapped lower lip, straining to keep her eyes open despite blurred vision from hunger and poor light.
Whichever they were, she didn’t want to miss the opportunity.
After losing her wealthy merchant husband and the help of several servants, she had come to deeply understand how difficult life was in the plague-ridden outer city. During the day, the streets held only wailing patients and their hurried family members, with no shops open—even money was useless. The grain shop owner had long vanished, perhaps having fled with his family or killed by starving rioters. And at night, more and more malicious loiterers prowled the streets, banging heavily on doors to check for occupants. She had to remain constantly vigilant to protect herself and her child.
The food at home was dwindling. Even the meager portions for the children were now made by mixing in wheat bran that used to be fed to servants.
She had naively believed that as long as she had money, even if prices were high, she could certainly buy what she needed. But in reality, in the outer city overrun by plague and thieves, there were no shops left open. She waved gold coins from her pouch but couldn’t replenish her supplies.
She didn’t dare venture out too often either—if she fell ill, her son would truly have no hope left. All she could do was wait anxiously.
These two strangers before her might be her only hope of escape. But how could she approach them, beg or persuade them to give her some food, or even agree to take her and her child along?
As she wrestled with her thoughts, desperately searching for a solution, she suddenly noticed the two seemed about to leave!
“P-please wait!”
She couldn’t bear the thought of missing this chance—would there be another? The mere idea of her son soon going hungry suddenly filled her with desperate strength, and she rushed out without a second thought!
The noise she made caught their attention, and they turned to look.
The distance wasn’t great, and her sprint had been fueled by sheer desperation, so she closed the gap quickly. She hastily stopped, not daring to get too close—not because she didn’t want to, but because she feared they might reject her out of fear of the plague.
She glanced at the grimy cobblestones as if drawing courage from them, then lifted her head and forced an ingratiating smile. “Honorable sirs, might you need assistance? I’ll do anything! Just a little food—”
Her voice grew softer and softer, then abruptly trailed off.
God.
Her head spun slightly: only this close did she realize these two gentlemen were not only well-dressed but also impossibly handsome!
“I need a guide, madam—someone familiar with the recent situation in the royal capital.”
Oliver looked at the seemingly terrified woman but couldn’t help recalling Ticher—her initial wretchedness and later vitality. Yet this woman’s circumstances were clearly different: she seemed unaccustomed to humbly begging for help, and even now, isolated and helpless, her clothes remained neat and proper.
To soothe the anxious woman, Oliver’s smile softened further, and he spoke gently, “I imagine your child at home requires your care. So, if you can recommend the most suitable person for the task, I will certainly reward you equally.”
Whether it was the half-warehouse of wheat he had stockpiled in the cat god’s divine realm—though he felt a bit guilty treating the adorable God’s realm as a portable storage space, since his game backpack refused to accept unrecognized items—or the several stacks of corn in his backpack, he had more than enough to pay the so-called reward.
However, he didn’t want to put this vulnerable woman at risk of attracting trouble with valuable possessions. He decided to give her enough food to meet her immediate needs as payment first.
The allocation of his supplies would depend on the subsequent arrangements.
Perhaps because the other’s face was so dazzlingly beautiful, she stood there dazed for quite a while before remembering to nod.
The most suitable person familiar with the recent situation in the royal capital?
After careful consideration, she provided the address of the vacant house at the end of the alley—”Oh generous and kind sir, I believe Grand High Priest Abino residing there would be most suitable. Despite his noble status, even a severe illness couldn’t deter him from spreading the glory of the deity, as he continues offering final solace to wounded souls.”
Grand High Priest?
Oliver was somewhat surprised by this answer.
According to the intelligence he had received, nearly all the nobles and Priests had retreated behind the two protective walls of the inner city at the first opportunity, leaving the outer city residents to fend for themselves… and the scenes he had just witnessed fully confirmed this.
But according to this woman’s account, the divine temple hadn’t been completely inactive: they were actually willing to send out such an important Grand High Priest beyond the inner walls, just to provide spiritual support for the people.
Though it was merely psychological comfort that couldn’t alleviate the epidemic, such care remained precious nonetheless.
“Indeed, I had to see for myself,” Oliver murmured as he walked in the direction she indicated, unconsciously leaning closer to the cat god beside him, who immediately understood and lowered his head.
The deity cheerfully inclined his ear, allowing the deliberately hushed, pleasant voice to reach his ear: “Otherwise I might have misunderstood the Temple of Light’s stance. It seems even though the court has abandoned relief efforts, they’re still trying.”
Perhaps because he had envisioned the worst-case scenario, suddenly learning that the nobility of the royal capital hadn’t completely abandoned their humanity brought Oliver considerable relief.
The deity nodded solemnly: “Indeed.”
“If they’ve actually implemented certain relief measures, then my subsequent work will be much easier,” Oliver continued, clearly in brighter spirits after witnessing such tragic scenes and finally seeing a glimmer of hope. “I can provide some assistance in both supplies and experience.”
Hearing this, the previously elated deity suddenly realized something and couldn’t help asking: “But aren’t the people of the royal capital your enemies?”
Helping enemies meant harming oneself—this was something the shrewd God of Wealth could clearly calculate. If Deyth came asking for anything, he wouldn’t even entertain the request let alone offer assistance proactively.
“Ah,” Oliver was momentarily taken aback by the cat god’s sudden show of clear stance, then chuckled. “That’s true. But compared to the conflicts between me and Cameron, or other nobles of the royal capital and those decaying systems, this sudden plague is our common—and greatest—enemy. Moreover, those suffering most severely from the epidemic are commoners who cannot be my enemies, while the nobles are all hiding in the safest places.”
Hearing this, the God of Wealth pursed his lips slightly in unease and voluntarily explained: “Plage has already fallen into slumber.”
Without the intervention of the God of Plague, this disaster would run rampant across the land, burning through the last piece of reachable “fuel”—life itself.
Oliver, preoccupied with his upcoming arrangements, failed to grasp the cat god’s guilt over wanting to help but being unable to. Hearing this, he even cheerfully inquired, “Ah, what a pity. But is He your friend too? I’ve never heard you mention it.”
“Don’t know him,” the Cat-eared God answered without blinking, then added seriously, “But we could get acquainted.” After all, this was a god who could help Oliver.
Oliver was amused by His peculiar phrasing: “What does ‘could get acquainted’ mean?”
As they conversed, they soon arrived at their destination.
To Oliver’s surprise, two very thin children were sleeping by the door of this house—though their purpose was clearly not theft, but voluntarily keeping watch for the Grand High Priest temporarily residing here. Despite extreme drowsiness, they remained highly vigilant.
“Who are you?”
Oliver’s subtly altered appearance remained striking, but they quickly snapped back to attention, staring at them nervously: “Are you from the divine temple too? Don’t you dare harm Lord Abino!”
The hostility seemed inexplicable, but after a brief moment of confusion, Oliver began to understand.
The Grand High Priest living here alone temporarily clearly wasn’t acting under the temple’s orders—and might even be willfully defying them.
Frowning slightly, he patiently and gently explained to the terrified yet stubbornly defensive children: “The divine temple? Of course not. We’re merchants from afar, just passing through and hearing of your plight. Based on our faith, we wish to offer what help we can to the suffering people in this city. And from what we’ve learned, the most trustworthy person in charge seems to be the priest you’re so loyally guarding…”
Before he could finish, the dilapidated door opened from within.
Oliver instinctively looked over and saw a man with hair and complexion appearing paler under the moonlight, yet possessing strangely deep red eyes, standing there calmly.
“Please come in, guests from afar.” The other slightly lowered his gaze, as if intentionally avoiding unnecessary attention drawn by his unusual red pupils, and spoke with detached coolness: “Whether you possess the ability to provide assistance or not, this admirable courage and kindness alone are sparks of light cherished and grateful for by those in darkness.”
Truth be told, after Arte—who used to speak in similarly convoluted, poetic rhythms—gradually adapted to local customs, Oliver had grown unaccustomed to such speech.
But hearing these vaguely familiar phrases, he still smiled politely: “O compassionate Priest, though we worship different deities, I thank you for bestowing upon me this high praise of ‘spark’.”
Upon hearing this, the white-haired, red-eyed priest suddenly paused mid-step, turning to give him a deep look.
Something seemed to flash swiftly in the depths of those red eyes as he asked intently, “Pardon me, why would you say that?”
“Of course it’s because,” Oliver, as the one who had personally written such lines before, naturally continued: “I am the spark. If there exists no light in this world, I shall become the sole light.”
