In the town of Onyx Lake, nestled in the heartland of Glan.
Clad in coarse hemp clothes, Relo involuntarily shivered against the biting northern winds, leaving the church in a daze, pondering how to face his father's disappointment.
His mood was somber, filled with sorrow.
Unwittingly, Relo found himself in front of Bob's bakery in the small town, queuing up behind a crowd.
Looking up, he saw a two-headed parrot in a cage by the store's entrance.
"Hey, you glutton, can't you eat less? All you do is eat, and because of you, I've gotten this fat. Can't you cut down a bit!"
The other head of the parrot, busy nibbling on bread crumbs, retorted, "Shut up, you nagging ghost. Blabber again and I'll peck you to death."
Intimidated by the bread-eating head, the nagging one retracted its neck, turned around, and upon seeing Relo staring blankly at them, snapped, "What are you looking at? Haven't you seen such handsome parrots before?"
Relo's forehead creased in frustration.
Fortunately, the line for buying bread was moving quickly, and soon it was Relo's turn.
The bakery owner, a fat man with a bushy beard, towered over the customers. He was Bob, the Gentleman of Light who had bought Relo's missionary spot with a generous donation of gold coins.
Inside the glass showcase were soft, fragrant white loaves, but Relo's grumbling stomach had to settle for pointing at the pile of dark, hard bread: "I'll take a kilogram of the black bread."
Bob took the twenty copper coins from Relo, handing him a cold, hard loaf of black bread, before turning his gaze to the next customer.
Clutching the black bread tightly to his chest, hoping his body heat would soften it, Relo hurried home through the piercing cold wind.
Creak.
Shutting the wooden door behind him, Relo hung the black bread on the wall, added two logs to the fire, and shivered as the warmth of the flames enveloped him.
Cough, cough, cough.
His father on the sickbed looked at Relo, struggling to make a praying gesture, murmuring, "Thank the God of Light for bringing my son home safely."
"Father."
The heavy scent of blood filled the air. Relo looked at his father undergoing bloodletting treatment from the doctor, asking with concern, "Doctor, how is my father doing?"
The doctor let the blood from his father's body flow into a wooden basin through a tube.
Drip, drip. The continuous flow of blood seemed the only way to purge the body of impurities, creating new blood through devout faith to combat illness.
In this era, bloodletting was the universal treatment for all village doctors and the only option for commoners in remote areas who couldn't afford the Light's blessing from priests.
The doctor wiped the bloody needle, calmly stating, "I have released the impurities from his body. Now it depends on his faith in the Lord."
"My father will recover!"
Relo asserted confidently.
The doctor left without further words, taking his payment of silver coins.
Relo's father, a renowned hunter in the town, had spent a fortune to educate Relo in the church, hoping he would become a missionary.
Unfortunately, his father had been attacked by a beast last autumn. The wound never healed properly, and despite several bloodletting treatments, his condition worsened. Many in town whispered it was due to his lack of faith in the God of Light.
This was why Relo pleaded with the priest, hoping to prove his father's devotion by becoming a missionary.
"How did the examination go?"
The room was oppressively silent, save for the crackling of the fire.
Relo didn't respond to his father's question, unable to face his disappointed eyes.
After busying himself and disposing of the impure blood, Relo retreated to his room, closing the door. Overwhelmed with guilt, he wept for not becoming a clergyman to earn the God of Light's mercy for his father.
Stretching out his hands, Relo gazed at the faint warm light emerging on his palms, his eyes vacant.
The power of prayer, also known as the Light's power.
The God of Light wasn't a vague myth; every devout believer could feel its presence. Some clergy could even summon part of its power to the mortal realm, known as the Light's power or blessing spells.
The only way to summon this power was through devout faith.
Expanding the congregation and guiding the lost to the Light's faith would earn more favor from the God of Light.
Humans lived in a region called the Starry World, with many duchies. Besides the God of Light, there were many local deities, all subservient to the God of Light.
Near the human duchies lived familiar races like elves, dwarves, gnomes, barbarians, etc., mostly integrated into human society without conflicting beliefs.
However, on the other side of the vast Crucible Desert lay the Night Land, a terrifying region inhabited by fearsome heretics, little known to humanity. It was the evil land targeted by every Pope's crusade upon ascension.
Furthermore, in the boundless oceans, pirates spoke of a vast continent ruled by other intelligent beings, with cities floating in the sky – dismissed as ludicrous tales.
However, the existence of terrifying creatures in the deep ocean was a fact.
Jolted back to reality, Relo let the Light in his hands fade, breathing wearily.
Summoning divine power was a tremendous strain on a mortal body. Though Relo's summoned power was almost combat-useless, only convincing faithless fools of the God of Light's existence and spreading the faith, it still exhausted him.
One could imagine the burden borne by Popes when summoning the Light's power.
Shaking off his fatigue, Relo picked up the "Canon of Light," reading it repeatedly to reinforce his faith.
"The God of Light, the Creator, made heaven. Humans in heaven opened the box of original sin due to desire, falling into the Starry World. Only through selfless devotion and self-redemption can one return to heaven…"
"Relo!"
His father's call from outside interrupted Relo's reading, and he hurried to his father's room.
Cough, cough, cough.
His father sat up on the bed, arranging a few items neatly: a book, a strange necklace, and a badge.
Relo supported his father, chiding, "You should rest more."
His father, stubborn as ever, looked frail and trembled even sitting up. Yet his determination remained, he said somberly, "I know my body; I won't survive this winter."
"No! The merciful God of Light will surely pity your devout faith. Even if misunderstood by many in town, the God of Light knows your devotion!"
Relo had always avoided this topic.
But his father's gaze softened like never before, reminiscent of his dying mother seventeen years ago.
"Your mother was the most devout believer of the God of Light and the most beautiful woman in the world. She devoted everything to her faith, choosing self-sacrifice in her last moments of difficult childbirth, leaving all her love to you."
Relo bowed his head, speechless.
For seventeen years, he never celebrated his birthday, as it was the day of his mother's memorial.
"As for me… haha, the God of Light's pity?"
Suddenly, his father's dignified, devout face twisted into painful self-mockery, tears streaming down as he looked guiltily at Relo.
"How could the great God of Light pity a descendant of the world's filthiest bloodline, a wizard?"
A wizard?
Weren't they all burned at the stake by the church, becoming mere legends?
Relo stared incredulously at his father, who always thanked the God of Light even for his son's return. His father was claiming they were descendants of wizards!
"You heard right, Relo. You and our ancestors are from that dark era when the Black Death was spread, wreaking havoc until the church burned them at the stake!"
Retreating in disbelief, Relo refused to accept his father's words. He was a devout follower of the God of Light, not related to wizards!
That era was shrouded in death and terror. Wizards wielded powers beyond ordinary resistance, conducting evil experiments with children's blood and eyes, attacking clergy, and even unleashing the Black Death, nearly driving humanity to extinction.
Cities were littered with corpses, villages decimated.
It wasn't until the burning of wizards at the stake, cursing everyone as flames consumed them, that humanity slowly survived and thrived, establishing duchies.
"This can't be!"
Relo paled.
Cough! Cough! ''I questioned my father too, and he left me with these words."
Struggling with unnatural flush and coughing, his father said, "This will never be our home!"
(End of Chapter)