Witch, Fireball and the Evil God of Steam-Chapter 922 - 193: Have You Confessed Today? (2)

Carlo remained silent, but the dark-skinned man with dreadlocks sitting beside him spoke up, "Ave-Margaret."

The speaker had no pupils; his eyes were completely white. "On her body, there is a mark she herself doesn't even know about, which will be the key to our victory."

"We owe this to our great pioneer, Julius."

Carlo finally spoke, "He was the most steadfast warrior, never submitting to the Judicial Court of the Empire even when tied to the stake by the minions of the Evil Gods!"

Even though Carlo and the leaders of the major sects refrained from speaking plainly, these few words brought them great confidence.

Both the Holy Word Sect and the Voodoo Sect possessed many mind-controlling secret arts. Given Ave-Margaret's position in the new cabinet, if they could influence her judgment or even control her actions, many of their concerns would be easily resolved!

The blind man was named Darrant, and he was currently the leader of the Holy Word Church, known as the most powerful mind-binder.

He excelled at using illusions to control minds and then turning them into puppets.

Even in the Far West, the mind-binders led by Darrant were once among the most notorious organizations; these people had no morals or conscience. They interfered in sect elections and influenced policy-making. Their followers were spread across the world, with many politicians from major countries maintaining close ties with them.

After coming to power, Carlo changed the reputation of the Holy Word Sect, transforming it from a cult into one of the three pillars of the Far West.

Darrant wore a playful smile on his face, raising his right hand as if manipulating invisible strings. "Ave-Margaret has nowhere to run."

Yet, this statement failed to excite the sitting sect leaders, who all looked at Darrant with grave expressions.

Just as he was puzzled, Carlo frowned and pointed at Darrant's nose.

Darrant reached for his nose and immediately felt the warm, sticky fluid.

The climate in the Far West was dry, with most areas shrouded in sandstorms year-round. Nosebleeds had become a part of everyday life, but now it was a matter of timing.

These attendees were believers from various sects, and having a nosebleed before a major battle was definitely not a good omen—especially when Darrant had confidently announced his control over Ave, and then a nosebleed seemed like a silent slap in the face.

...............

While the strategic meeting was in full swing, Ethan's group was not idle either.

In contrast to the tense atmosphere among the Church Court's top brass, their mood was light and harmonious. Like travelers, they shouldered backpacks as they descended the mountain, crossing the desert terrain, and finally arrived at Santo Bala, the "Desert Oasis," before nightfall.

The entire city was shrouded in silence, with only occasional sightings of a few Church Court patrols holding long staffs on the streets.

The impending war was weighing on everyone's hearts, including the believers of the Life Divine Teachings, not to mention the ordinary inhabitants of Bala.

For them, life had recently become utterly miserable.

The first issue was the extended work hours in places like mines and smelting facilities, leaving them with almost no time to return home. This was followed by the conscription order from the Royal Family, a compulsory draft that left many people with no chance to prepare or formally say goodbye to their families, as they were quickly sent to the border with the main forces.

Regardless of the war's outcome, the majority of them would perish on the battlefield.

The "Salvation Contribution Points" program promoted by the Church Court became their last hope. At the last wartime mobilization meeting, Pope Carlo proclaimed that the contribution points accumulated on the front lines would be returned to their families at a rate of 1.5 times if they died in battle.

They could only hope that their families would survive this dark time before the advent of the Sixth Epoch and witness the return of the True Gods and Middle-Level Gods, as well as the day of salvation.

"Ethan, now that we're here, don't you want to experience some unique entertainment in the Far West?"

After booking rooms at the inn and settling their luggage, the Lindong couldn't wait to ask.

"Entertainment? What do you mean?"

Ethan cautiously looked around and relaxed when he saw Little Dark lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Even the malevolent Lindong Witch wouldn't dare act frivolously in front of Little Dark.

Thanks to Pope Carlo bringing all sect leaders of the Far West to Santo Bala recently, their accompanying staff had all been arranged in the city's inns. By the time they checked in, only two rooms were left.

"Confessional."

"Confessional?"

Ethan scrutinized Lindong with skepticism.

Generally speaking, this was hard to categorize as entertainment.

"It's a part of everyday life for people in the Far West. Every resident of major cities visits the church for confession in their spare time; it's said to cleanse their souls."

"I think it's worth a try."

But on second thought, when Ethan heard about the soul-cleansing effect, he immediately changed his perspective on confession.

He believed that Lindong urgently needed to cleanse her soul and confess for having poisoned him with a Magic Potion before their departure!

The black cat on the bed perked up its ears.

"I want to go too!"

She didn't quite understand confession, only that Lindong planned some entertainment with Ethan.

How could she miss out on any entertainment?

"But at this hour, isn't the priest in the confessional off duty?"

Ethan glanced at the pitch-black sky outside, expressing his concern.

"The priest will listen to your troubles at any time—this is the Church Court's promise to everyone."

Ethan had a hunch that Lindong seemed well-acquainted with the city, requiring no map to guide him and Little Dark to the Crown of Dawn Cathedral.

Of course, according to Church Court regulations, ordinary people like them were not allowed to enter the church.

Confessionals were set on the western side of the church; the lights were still on, and to Ethan's surprise, there was a long queue outside the confessional even at this late hour.

Seeing Ethan's bewilderment, Lindong proactively explained, "The worse the situation, the more people come to confess. You can gauge residents' views on life just by the number of people queueing at the confessional."

Ethan queued at the end of the line, observing the still-lit confessional from a distance.

Confession seemed a genuine form of entertainment for the residents of the Far West; those weary and on the brink of breaking down emerged from the confessional with relaxed expressions and lighter steps.

A person's confession lasted about five minutes. If just five minutes could sweep away fatigue and reinvigorate them, it was indeed an efficient form of entertainment. Perhaps similar activities could be promoted back in the Empire.

"I'll go first!"

Little Dark's volunteering left Ethan with a foreboding feeling.

He immediately conducted a spot inquiry, "Little Dark, do you even know what confession means?"

"Why wouldn't I? Do you think I'm stupid?"

The black cat glared at Ethan defiantly, "It's an ancient ritual from the First Epoch: simply put, you confess all the sins you've committed."

Little Dark's sins...

Ethan's heart skipped a beat. Considering the anonymous priest's mental well-being, he felt it necessary to advise Little Dark, "Just start from when we returned to the Imperial Capital, no need to dig into the past."

"Alright."

Still a bit reluctant, the black cat dashed into the confessional as soon as the previous person exited.

In retrospect, since moving into their household, Little Dark showed much restraint, hinting at a transformation from a mischievous to a good cat.

The confession still lasted five minutes, maybe even less.

After a tense wait, Ethan saw the "light-footed" priest emerge from the confessional.

A middle-aged man in his forties, balding slightly.

He walked briskly, practically running, his canvas shoes nearly sparking against the floor.

"Hey, don't go!"

Little Dark's voice, tinged with regret, came from the confessional, "I haven't even mentioned the three little boys yet!"