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Chapter 8 - Chapter 7: Holy Cow Again!

The night was not yet over, but the chaos in the village had come to an abrupt, if somewhat ragged, end. Ye Shengtao stood on the edge of the square, his hooves pressed into the dirt as he watched the remaining bandits retreat into the shadows. The fires still crackled and popped in the half-destroyed village, casting an eerie orange glow over the soot-streaked faces of the survivors. 

Fergio was beaming, his golden armor now smeared with ash and mud but no less resplendent in the firelight. He waved his sword above his head like a victory banner, basking in the glory of their triumph. "We have vanquished the enemy!" he shouted, his voice booming over the now-quieted village. "Justice has been served! The kingdom is safe once more!"

Ye Shengtao felt the overwhelming urge to face-hoof. The idiot didn't even realize he had almost been skewered from behind. It was his intervention that saved Fergio, not any so-called heroics. Yet here the fool stood, puffed up with pride, as if he were some kind of legendary champion.

"Idiot," Ye Shengtao muttered under his breath, his tail swishing irritably. He was about to suggest they leave before anyone had the chance to corner them with questions when something unexpected happened.

A villager—a middle-aged man, his face covered in grime—stepped forward from the crowd. His eyes were wide, not with fear or panic, but with something else. Awe. "Did… did the cow save us?" the man stammered, his voice trembling.

The murmurs started slowly at first, rippling through the small gathering of villagers like a wave. "It did," another voice chimed in. "I saw it with my own eyes. The cow charged that bandit, sent him flying!"

"A miracle!" a woman gasped, clutching her hands to her chest. "A holy sign from the gods!"

Ye Shengtao's heart sank. This was exactly what he didn't want. As the villagers began to gather around, their eyes now fixated on him rather than Fergio, he realized he was in deep trouble. The whispers grew louder, more excited, and soon, one by one, they started bowing.

"By the gods, it's a sacred creature!" someone shouted.

"A holy cow!" another added. "The gods have sent us a divine protector!"

Ye Shengtao froze, unsure how to respond to the sudden reverence being thrown his way. Holy cow? Sacred creature? This was not what he signed up for when he agreed to guide this idiot to the village. He was just trying to survive without getting slaughtered, and now these villagers were acting as if he had descended from the heavens.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Ye Shengtao began, backing up a step. "Let's not jump to any ridiculous conclusions here. I'm just—"

But before he could finish, Fergio, his ego inflated by the villagers' adoration, stepped forward and declared, "Yes! Behold, good people of this village! This is no ordinary cow, but a divine being sent to aid me in my quest to rid the kingdom of evil! A wise and noble guide, chosen by the gods themselves!"

Ye Shengtao shot him a sharp look. "Don't make this worse," he hissed.

Fergio, oblivious as ever, raised his sword high and continued, "I, Fergio of House Solaria, have been blessed with the honor of protecting this sacred creature! Henceforth, I shall serve as its knightly guardian, defending it from any harm that may come its way!"

The villagers gasped in awe, their admiration for Fergio now mingling with their newfound reverence for Ye Shengtao. One woman stepped forward, tears in her eyes, and knelt before him. "Please," she whispered, her voice shaking. "Bless our village, noble one. We have suffered so much. You have saved us. Grant us your protection."

Ye Shengtao felt panic rising in his chest. Bless their village? What was he supposed to do, moo at them? This was getting out of control.

"Look," he said, trying to keep his voice calm, "I'm just a cow. A very normal, very un-divine cow. There's no blessing here, just bad luck and bad timing."

But his words fell on deaf ears.

Perhaps because cows were not supposed to speak at all.

The villagers were too enraptured by the idea of a holy cow to listen to any sense of reason, even if it came from the holy cow himself.

One by one, they knelt, bowing their heads to the ground in supplication. Ye Shengtao had never seen anything like it. He wanted to scream.

The system, of course, chose this moment to chime in. "Oh ho ho ho," she giggled, her translucent form flickering beside him. "Holy cow, indeed. You've really outdone yourself this time."

"Shut up," Ye Shengtao muttered through gritted teeth. "This is your fault."

"Correction," the system replied with a smirk. "This is your fault for saving them. You could've just let the bandits have their way, but no, you had to go and be a hero."

"Heroism has nothing to do with it," Ye Shengtao snapped. "I didn't want to deal with more complications."

"Well, congratulations," the system said, floating lazily beside him. "Now you're a deity in cow form. Enjoy the worship."

Ye Shengtao's eye twitched in frustration. As much as he wanted to escape, the crowd had already formed a tight circle around him, their hopeful eyes looking to him as if he held the answers to all their problems. And the worst part? Fergio looked just as convinced as they were.

"My lord," Fergio said, kneeling before him with a dramatic flourish. "I swear upon my honor and my sword that I shall be your protector, your faithful knight, until my dying breath. You are the chosen one, and I am your humble servant."

Ye Shengtao groaned inwardly. This was not how he had envisioned his day ending.

"Please," he tried again, addressing the villagers directly. "I don't need a protector. I don't need anything. I just want to leave."

But instead of listening, the villagers only seemed to grow more determined in their adoration. A group of older men and women stepped forward, each holding small offerings—food, flowers, and other trinkets—which they laid at Ye Shengtao's hooves.

"For you, noble one," one of them said reverently. "A token of our gratitude. Please, bless our village with your presence. We are but humble folk, and your guidance will bring us peace."

Ye Shengtao stared at the pile of offerings with a mixture of horror and disbelief. They were treating him like some sort of deity—a protector, a savior. And it was all because of Fergio's idiotic heroics and the fact that he had, in a moment of misplaced instinct, decided to headbutt a few bandits.

The system, still enjoying every second of his misery, hovered beside him with a smirk. "You know, this could be your chance to take control of the situation," she teased. "You could milk this for all it's worth."

Ye Shengtao glared at her. "If I had hands, I'd strangle you."

"Relax," she replied. "It's not so bad being a revered deity. They're practically worshiping the ground you walk on. You could get used to it."

"I don't want to get used to it," Ye Shengtao growled. "I want to get out of here."

But it seemed that escape was no longer an option. The villagers, now emboldened by their belief in his supposed divinity, had formed a line in front of him, each one waiting to offer their thanks and praise. Fergio, ever the dramatist, stood proudly at his side, as if they were preparing for some grand ceremony.

Ye Shengtao sighed heavily. How had it come to this? One minute, he was just trying to stay under the radar, and the next, he was being hailed as a divine cow with a self-appointed protector knight. This entire world was a farce, and he was stuck right in the middle of it.

As the first villager approached, an elderly woman with kind eyes and a trembling voice, Ye Shengtao felt a wave of resignation wash over him. He was in too deep now. There was no escaping the madness that had descended upon this village.

"Thank you," the woman said softly, bowing her head. "Thank you for saving us."

Ye Shengtao opened his mouth to protest once more but stopped. What was the point? These people had already made up their minds. Maybe if he played along, he could find a way out of this ridiculous situation sooner rather than later.

With a deep sigh, he gave the woman a small nod, careful to keep his expression as neutral as possible. "You're… welcome," he said, the words feeling strange on his tongue.

The woman's face lit up with joy, and she hurried back to the others, spreading the word of his 'blessing.' One by one, the villagers came forward, each offering their thanks and devotion, and with every passing minute, Ye Shengtao felt his patience wearing thinner.