"You're installing new equipments?"
A few regulars in the tavern sipped their beer while listening to Maya, boast about her latest scheme.
A kobold with bared teeth eyed the device in Maya's hand, his face full of suspicion. "You're telling me, you're going to set this thing up all over the city, and then people will 'see' divine revelations in their dreams at night?"
"Divine revelations don't usually show up in large numbers in a single area, and only devout believers can... well, fine, you're the pope, the beer-drinking pope. But I doubt you're all that devout to this new god of yours."
"Still, I have to say, making all sorts of people—maybe even priests from other religions—receive divine messages... that's impossible, right?"
The kobold fiddled with the small, pan-like object in his hand, even trying it on his head like a helmet.
"What are you even saying? How dare you doubt my 'wealthy' devotion to the Lord." Maya scolded harshly, causing the kobold to shrink back, closing his mouth.
"I've already gotten approval from the Steel Church and even stamped permits from the city government. That bureaucratic nonsense was such a pain in the arse."
"May the Lord's glory walk the lands of the Steam Nation, complying with all district regulations," Maya muttered as she stared out the window. "Anyway, now we just wait for the good news."
"Honestly, if we were doing the promotion alone, the Church Of Fiction's reach wouldn't be nearly enough. But isn't there a massive promotional event going on right now?"
———
In the Gray World, the most widespread and professional media, advertising, and printing company was Today's Print. Their business scope was unmatched, and their process was the most streamlined and effective.
For the Sacrifice Church, promoting their faith in a world where they weren't the mainstream required a bold decision: spend big.
And to assist them, Today's Print was hired.
Nobody turns down money. As long as you pay up, we're family—even if we weren't born to the same parents. Heck, I could even temporarily convert faith. If I fall out of the faith later, it's because you haven't paid enough.
"You've made a wise choice choosing our company. We've handled promotions for numerous churches. The quality and reach of our campaigns are unrivaled."
"Trust me, within a week, at least half the world will see our flyers. No other company has the capability to achieve this."
Today's Print's General Manager, Mr. Louis Litt, warmly shook hands with the Sacrifice Church's Archbishop. Both parties were quite pleased with the meeting.
"To be honest, my lord has just achieved a monumental victory, and his influence has expanded significantly because of it—thanks to one of our regional bishops in another world."
"As you know, among the gods, my lord is quite active. He's always deeply involved in the affairs of mortals, driving the prosperity of many worlds. His most recent triumph was in crushing the faith of the God of Confusion."
"The God of Confusion was the patron of filthy, despicable tricksters. But by obliterating his church, my lord has given new life to that world. I believe that, soon enough, under his guidance, it will enter a new era."
Mr. Litt forced an awkward yet polite smile. "But... the God of Confusion was also the protector of actors, keepers of secrets, and journalists. Without him, who will safeguard the secrets of the world? Who will protect those in the performing arts? And how can we ensure that reporters won't drop dead after publishing a story?"
" Hah... those people are irrelevant. Many gods possess the power to keep secrets, and there are others who protect actors. As for journalists... no one really cares what they say. People will forget everything by the next day anyway," the Sacrifice Archbishop replied with a smile.
Mr. Litt maintained his polite but awkward grin. "Right... of course."
Sure, other gods might offer the same services, but at a steep cost. By comparison, the God of Confusion demanded very little in return. Clearly, the Sacrifice God wasn't the only one involved in the fall of the Faceless One's church—other deities likely played a part too. Mr. Litt realized that the recently disappeared faith of the God of Confusion had indeed been that of the Faceless One.
Though Louis wasn't from the lower class, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for the working-class believers who had lost their protector. Finding a god with similar traits to the Faceless One would be difficult. The new gods weren't as generous.
The Faceless One's leniency stemmed from his very nature—being vague. He never demanded much in terms of offerings, content with a good enough attitude.
The Sacrifice Archbishop reiterated his request:
"Our regional bishop has achieved a great victory, and now my lord wishes to hold a lecture in this world. As his faithful servant, I must do everything I can to ensure it's as grand as possible. I can't let other bishops outshine me."
"The funds our church has provided you can be used freely. If you need more, just ask. We're not short on money—what's important is that the promotion must be grand and overwhelming."
"And it would be great to add a little innovation."
Mr. Litt smiled and nodded. The promotional plan for the Sacrifice Church was settled. He saw the Archbishop out with a spring in his step.
Soon, the printing presses at Today's Print began to roar into action.
The term print media refers to the distribution of information through printed materials. This includes books, periodicals, newspapers, and images.
As one of the oldest forms of mass communication, print media has a well-established process with predictable results.
Today's Print was also well-versed in executing one-day promotional campaigns for the Sacrifice Church.
After all, the Sacrifice Church wasn't the first to order such a package. The Church of Steel and the War God's Medical Sect had both approached Today's Print for similar campaigns before. While these promotions varied—ranging from divine lectures to other events—the process remained consistent.
For example, the War God's Medical Sect once promoted a free surgery day, offering treatments like amputations, bloodletting, lobotomies, and chest incisions—all at no cost. The more ailments you had, the bigger the discount. Their slogan was: We'll cut wherever it hurts, even if you're healthy—we'll throw in a free incision.
Other promotions were more traditional, often involving collaborations with local businesses. Some churches handed out small gifts, such as the Church of Steel offering low-power heaters to restaurant customers.
Some churches went a step further by providing one-time divine blessings. For many, these blessings were rare opportunities, often allowing them to achieve personal goals.
For churches, these blessings served as recruitment tools—essentially promotional freebies.
But this time, the Sacrifice Church's campaign needed to stand out, given the sheer amount of money they were pouring into it.
"The Sacrifice Church has deep pockets. Word has it that their reputation in other worlds isn't great. In worlds where they dominate, other churches must rely on their goodwill to survive. Their influence in those worlds is overpowering, letting them control entire industries."
"It seems they've made up their minds to establish themselves as the new mainstream here. This massive spend is just the appetizer."
Mr. Litt was sharp. He didn't care about the Sacrifice Church's attempts to expand their influence. He knew it wouldn't last.
The God of Confusion had been defeated because, ultimately, he wasn't a powerful deity.
But in the Gray World, the real rulers were the Church of Steel.
The Church of Steel operated under the authority of the God of Steel.
As for the Sacrificer? He was just a minor third-tier god.
No matter how much money the Sacrifice God threw around, the Gray World's societal structure would remain unchanged. As long as the gears of steel, the engines of steam, and the scalpel-wielding surgeons of the Medical Sect stood tall, society would continue running the same way. The efforts of the Sacrificer would always be in vain.
That's why Mr. Litt agreed so readily to the Sacrifice Church's promotional campaign. He promised to do his best with their money.
'What a lucky windfall—no, a noble client'.
———
[A/N: Hierarchy in a cult: Pope>Cardinals(I am thinking about adding them.)> Archbishops>Bishops>Priest.]