Translator: Cinder Translations
...
The soldiers left, and Paul closed the door to the room.
The priest suddenly became unsettled, cold sweat forming on his forehead. "Lord Grayman, although I know I am handsome and talented, I have dedicated myself to the Lord of Light."
Paul: "Huh? What did you say? Never mind, take off your clothes, let me have a look."
Oh no, it looks like today will be difficult to escape. Sigh, it's a sin to be so handsome. Although I've heard that nobles and upper echelons of the church all have this preference, I didn't expect such a young lad to be tainted with this vice.
"Oh Lord of Light! Forgive your servant." The priest silently prayed, then lay down on the bed, turning to Paul with tears in his eyes. "Please be gentle~"
"You motherfucker, get up right now!"
Paul exploded in anger, his face turning as red as a beetroot. He finally realized what this guy was thinking, trying to feed him peanuts with a shotgun. How could a straight guy like him do such a filthy thing?
"Huh? Ah! Okay okay. Sorry, hehe." The priest breathed a sigh of relief, just managing to preserve his chastity.
Barely suppressing the urge to blow the man in front of him to bits, Paul took a few deep breaths and gritted his teeth. "Your clothes are torn, and I saw an interesting tattoo on your body."
"Oh no! How does he know about that?" The priest thought anxiously.
"Hehe! Lord Grayman, you must be mistaken."
"No no no, I'm absolutely not mistaken! And I've seen this shark-shaped tattoo on members of the Shark Gang. But come to think of it, Mr. 'Priest's' tattoo placement is quite unique."
"This... this..."
"Speak! Who are you exactly?"
As Paul interrogated, he pointed the dark barrel of the gun at the middle-aged man who claimed to be a "priest."
"I really am a priest of the church!" The middle-aged man once again pleaded for mercy, realizing that the thing in the count's hand could take his life. Without waiting for further interrogation, he spilled a bunch of words like pouring beans from a bamboo tube.
According to his confession, his name was John Morrison, originally a priest of a rural church in a nearby territory. However, the Shark Gang came and plundered, after a spree of looting, they even took him away. He thought he was going to be thrown into the sea to feed the fish, but unexpectedly, the leader of the pirates, Shark, forced him to join the pirate gang. Although this gang of pirates committed murder and arson, including the big boss Shark, many of them surprisingly had 'spiritual needs' and required a real clergyman to conduct activities such as repentance and prayer for the pirates.
So, John Morrison, the priest, shamelessly took on this honorable and promising career of piracy, and even had the gang's emblem tattooed on him—a shark with sharp teeth exposed. He spent a year in the pirate gang.
Paul didn't find it strange that pirates also believed in religion. Aren't there also some very sinful people on Earth who like to burn incense and worship Buddha? Moreover, the more sins one commits, the more superstitious they become.
But this John Morrison still needed to be interrogated thoroughly. He picked up a thick Bible that had fallen beside the cabinet; this guy probably held onto this book in the cabinet all the time.
"I ask you, what does the 132nd page of this book say?"
"Suddenly, the earth was as bright as day, and a majestic voice sounded out of thin air..." Morrison actually began to recite, not missing a single word from the entire page.
He continued to have him recite other parts, all of which he recited word for word.
"There are two ways about it."
"Hehe! Your Excellency is too kind."
"Well, let's temporarily believe in your identity as a priest then!"
Morrison couldn't contain his joy. "Thank you, Lord Grayman. Could you please arrange for me to be sent back..."
"Do you want to live or die?" Paul once again aimed the dark barrel of the gun at Morrison.
Damn it! Just escaped from the wolves' den, only to enter the tiger's mouth again! Morrison the priest felt tears welling up in his eyes. Were these lords all of the same character as the bandits?
"Lord Grayman, threatening a clergyman like this..."
"Bang!" With a loud noise, Morrison felt something fly past him, prompting him to turn around instinctively. A gaping hole in the wall caught his eye.
Then the room's door was kicked open, and a large number of soldiers rushed in, pointing their weapons at Morrison.
This situation was too frightening. Oh Lord, please protect your faithful. Morrison nodded vigorously, "I want to live! Of course, I want to live." If Paul's hand had veered a bit more, his head would have likely be split open.
"Very good! I, Count Paul Grayman, in the name of Lord of Alden, summon you to serve in my army."
"Uh... but Lord Grayman, I can't lift my hands or shoulders."
"Oh, you're unwilling? Fine, I won't kill you then. I'll just hand you over to the Archbishop of the Northwest for judgment. Hehe, a clergyman staying in a pirate's den for a year with pirate tattoos on his body, I wonder how the Archbishop will react if he found out."
"Serving you is my greatest honor!"
Morrison immediately put on a look as if he was receiving a divine revelation.
"Don't worry, I'll just have you do some ideological work and meet the soldiers' religious needs. You know, we can't carry a church with us when we march and fight, so having you, a military chaplain, will be useful."
Morrison didn't hesitate. "I obey your command, Lord Grayman." Judging by the situation just now, this young count was not someone to be trifled with.
Paul said, "However, when you're doing 'ideological work,' there are some things you should say, and some things you shouldn't..."
Suddenly, remembering the large group of soldiers who had just rushed into the room, he changed his tone, "Never mind, I'll teach you slowly later. If you do well, I won't treat you poorly. But if you make any little moves, don't expect me to keep your 'little secrets.'"
Morrison raised his right hand, looking solemn. "In this sacred place, I swear to the Father in heaven, I will serve in Lord Grayman's army and remain loyal to Paul Grayman. If he tells me to go east, I won't go west; if he tells me to chase dogs, I won't chase chickens."
To be honest, when this guy got serious, he really did look the part.
Yeah, right! Paul thought to himself, but he still introduced Morrison to the surrounding soldiers. "This is a clergyman who was abducted by pirates and held captive here. His original church was burned down by pirates. You all heard what he just said, right? From now on, he will be our military chaplain. Haha, that gunshot you heard earlier was just me messing around with the priest."
The soldiers responded, "Yes, Count."
...
"June X, 1990, in the Holy Calendar was the first time I met Saint Paul. At that time, I was imprisoned by pirates in the church at Port Frand, forced to serve the pirate gang. But my heart remained loyal to the Lord of Light, refusing to bow to evil forces. The pirates subjected me to endless torment and humiliation, a test from the Lord that I endured with sheer willpower. Just when I was on the verge of death, it was Saint Paul who led his army to rescue me. When I first saw him, a soft light shone upon him, and a majestic voice echoed in my mind: Follow him, assist him. I knew it was a divine revelation from the Lord of Light, so I joined his army without hesitation, helping him achieve unimaginable feats." — Excerpt from the memoirs of John Morrison, the 250th Pope of the Church of Light.
"That was a day of sin, with details lost to time. But what is certain is that from that day on, the traitor Morrison sold his soul to the devil Grayman, becoming his pawn. Evil began to infiltrate the Church of Light, bringing corruption and downfall, ultimately turning into a tool for the devil Grayman to manipulate people." — Excerpt from a pamphlet by an underground sect claiming to be the true Church of Light.
(End of the chapter)