Oliver curled up in the corner of the confessional, silently wiping the vomit on the floor, completely unaware that ten minutes later, he would devour a god.
Beside the vomit was the holy water font symbolizing purity, its water clear and transparent, like a mirror, reflecting the delicate, gaunt face of the young Oliver.
Prolonged hunger and exhaustion made him look utterly weary; the moldy rag he used to wipe the vomit rubbed against his frostbitten palms, sending sharp, piercing pain through him from time to time.
The air in the church was always damp and oppressive, with the decay of years accumulated in the cracks of the floor tiles.
It was filled with the scent of cheap incense, which couldn't mask the stench of corpses.
This was Oliver's 179th night shift as an apprentice priest. Ever since he refused to become the bishop's "personal assistant" six months ago, he had been assigned to this "penance shift," tasked with cleaning the filth left behind from dealing with heretics.
It was said that prolonged exposure to these things would irreversibly cause the body to waste away, teeth to fall out, and even the blood to corrupt, drastically shortening one's lifespan.
"Oliver, hurry up and clean this filth, then come with me to clear out the mess under the holy water font."
Sister Marta's shrill voice approached from a distance, her shiny, expensive silver boots clacking crisply against the floor.
Bang!
She kicked a tin can on the ground toward Oliver, the sacramental wine inside splashing onto him, soaking his sparse clothing, the foul-smelling liquid trickling down his ankles.
"If there's even half a cockroach leg left by dawn, I'll break your bones…" she threatened, coldly watching Oliver.
Oliver looked up and saw Sister Marta had already turned away, starting to brew coffee with her back to him.
He couldn't help but stare at her beautiful silhouette for a moment longer—not because he was interested in her, but because of a strange silver pattern on her back.
It was a thin, serpentine line, twisting in an odd posture, exuding an inexplicable holy aura.
This was the so-called Divine Circuit!
In the "Era of Holy Law" ruled by the Seven Gods Church, only those granted the Divine Circuit, those who possessed it, could wield supernatural power!
Any extraordinary magic not channeled through the Divine Circuit was deemed illegal, observable by the gods, and such illicit spells would trigger the "Thunder of Divine Punishment"!
In the Holy Law Continent, those with the Divine Circuit were naturally superior.
For instance, this Sister Marta, despite possessing only the most basic Divine Circuit, could lord over Oliver, even injuring or killing him—a novice priest—without consequence.
"If only I had the Divine Circuit too…"
Obtaining the Divine Circuit was extremely difficult; it could only be purchased from the church at an exorbitant price, leaving many burdened with high-interest loans they could never repay in their lifetime.
And Oliver, clearly among the lowest of the low, didn't even qualify for a loan. Working the penance shift to clean this filth, he earned just 7 silver coins a week—barely enough to eat, forcing him to take on other odd jobs.
A loan to buy the Divine Circuit?
That was an impossible dream for him.
Bang!
As Oliver pondered, a sudden explosion echoed from the corridor, the sound of a crystal chandelier shattering jolting his heart.
But he quickly relaxed; such occurrences were all too common in the church.
The cardinals had started fighting again under the guise of "exorcism." Just last week, they'd burned all of Oliver's spare clothes while vying for the confession rights of a certain noblewoman.
The so-called confession rights were a perfect opportunity for the church's higher-ups to prey on others, and it was said that the noblewoman's beauty had several bishops drooling with desire.
Recently, the church in Glensorne City had received a new idol from the higher echelons, and it was said all believers had to come anew to confess before it.
Every three years, the church held such a confession assembly, which was really just an excuse to plunder the believers' wealth and exploit them.
"Get in here already!"
Sister Talma activated a mechanism, draining the holy water from the font and revealing a dark staircase beneath the altar.
Oliver bent down and slipped inside.
A wave of rot hit him immediately.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness beneath the altar, Oliver carefully descended the sloping, old wooden stairs.
The torch in his hand startled the rats in the dark, sending them scurrying and exposing a foul-smelling corpse in his line of sight.
It was the body of a witch executed last week, her flesh being gnawed on by the rats.
This was the "mess" Oliver had to deal with today.
The demonic power in the witch's body would contaminate the blood of ordinary people, and no one wanted to clean them up—except the "penance shift."
Oliver didn't understand why the church's executioners always tossed the executed bodies into this cellar for a week before letting them be cleared.
But regardless, he had to do this utterly wretched job now.
Silently, Oliver dragged the witch's corpse to a corner, maggots spilling out with his movements, the choking stench nearly blinding him.
The church always claimed divine magic could purify everything, yet never explained why moss and sores resembling human faces grew in the holy water font.
It was said that in certain forbidden books, these plants were called "human-faced sores," formed from the resentment of the dead.
"Damn church…"
Doing this work that could wreak havoc on his body, Oliver couldn't help but curse inwardly.
Dragging the rotting, stinking corpse aside was just the beginning; before carrying it out, he still had to clean up the filth it left behind.
Squatting by the sewage on the ground, Oliver skillfully picked up the moldy rag.
But as he wiped the tiles at the altar's base, a vibration suddenly pulsed through, like the heartbeat of a fetus, soft and rhythmic.
[Detected compatible individual… Breaking cognitive shackles…]
Was this… a hallucination?
Oliver thought it was a delusion from prolonged hunger, like last month when he mistook grapes in a mural for real food.
Yet, a hidden compartment underground suddenly sprang open, revealing a mithril compass soaked in blood.
"Well, well, a little gray-robed rat actually found something special?"
Marta's eyes gleamed as she pressed her silver staff against the back of Oliver's neck. "Thanks for finding this hidden treasure for me."
With one glance, she sensed it was an extraordinary item.
The compass was rusted and stained, but its value was unmistakable!
Before her words even finished, her silver staff clicked sharply, a hidden blade snapping out from its tip and piercing Oliver's neck in an instant.
Blood gushed out like a fountain.
The blood loss made Oliver feel unbearably cold; he clutched the wound on his neck in agony, his vision blurring.
The compass in his hand clattered to the ground.
But Oliver didn't know that ancient, invisible divine runes flew from the compass, burning into his retinas.
[One who perceives the church's lies √]
[One persecuted by the powerful √]
[One who willingly abandons prayer √]
[Blasphemous Codex binding complete]
[Congratulations on becoming the master of the Blasphemous Codex. From today, you will be a blasphemer, able to use illegal spells under the gods' watchful eyes. Moreover, by continuously performing blasphemous rituals, you will grow stronger, becoming a hero in the noble rebellion of defiling and exposing the vile gods!]
The Blasphemous Codex?
It seemed he'd obtained something incredible!
He could now use illegal spells without divine punishment?
Oliver couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement!
But he hadn't yet mastered any illegal spells—how would he acquire them?
More importantly, Oliver realized his current state was bizarre.
He seemed to be a soul detached from his body, with a book-like object—the so-called Blasphemous Codex—floating beside him!
In his soul state, he could clearly see his body lying on the ground, yet the wound on his neck was healing at a visible rate.
Observing his surroundings, Oliver saw Sister Marta fiddling with the silver compass, oblivious to his body recovering rapidly on the floor.
As he pondered, the system's prompts continued.
[Binding reward being issued, cognitive shackles breakthrough progress: 30%… 50%… 89%… Loading ■■■■■]
Boom!
In that instant, Oliver felt as if countless slime-covered parchments were sliding into his veins through the wound on his neck, each one inscribed with dense, incomprehensible text.
A strange power leaped from the words into his mind, and transparent crystals began forming on his retinas.
Through these odd crystals, the world warped in his eyes, revealing a new, different perspective.
At that moment, behind Sister Marta's slender figure floated a translucent umbilical cord!
This cord continuously siphoned energy from Marta's body to some entity in the void, like a blood transfusion.
[Mark: Void Umbilicus. A special mark that appears on those who nourish the gods as fertilizer. The gods will absorb the blood and souls of those marked through these cords until their death.]
A string of characters appeared before Oliver's eyes.
Oliver froze, then felt overwhelming shock!
Because he understood clearly that the "Void Umbilicus" described by the Blasphemous Codex was none other than the Divine Circuit countless people dreamed of!
The Divine Circuit—so coveted that countless poor folk and priests took on lifelong, unpayable loans to buy it—was a mark of fertilizer?!
So, purchasing the Divine Circuit meant becoming fodder and a sacrifice for the gods.
The church had deceived everyone once again!