Chapter 374: The Priest Who Lost the Holy Light
The handover at the docks took Leight a long time—only after he personally saw the refugees from the Holy Spirit Plains complete their registration, undergo the plague inspections by the physicians, and be escorted by soldiers to the buffer camp to rest, did he finally feel at ease.
These people had chosen to leave their homes and journey to the unknown southern lands because they trusted him. Though they had been persecuted by the local Holy Light Church and captured by the lord’s men, leaving them with no way out, the South was not their only option. But since they had chosen to follow him, he had to bear the responsibility to the very end.
Everyone must fulfill their duty before morality can be discussed—this was what the Holy Light had taught him.
The Holy Light…
Leight stood at the edge of the dock square, glancing down at his strong, calloused hands. Two still-healing wounds marked his palms—scars from a clash with church soldiers in the Carol territory. Those small wounds had cost the life of an innocent girl branded a heretic. It was a price worth paying, but the fact that the wounds hadn’t fully healed yet meant one thing: the Holy Light had truly abandoned him.
He sighed softly, then lifted his gaze to the bustling, vibrant streets of the city.
“Cecil… I’m back.”
He made his way through the busy, fish-scented streets of the dock district, past Pinecone Street and Pebble Park, until he reached the lord’s manor.
Inside the study, Lord Gawain was reviewing reports when he saw Leight Aviken enter, dressed plainly in simple cloth. He was surprised to see the priest return early, but before Leight stepped in, he had already heard from Amber about the events at the dock square. He nodded to the sturdy priest. “Welcome back. I hear you brought back a dozen or so refugees? Was the journey smooth?”
“Thank you for your concern,” Leight bowed his head slightly. “Those people were unexpected encounters on my way back.”
He hadn’t planned to bring so many. Initially, he only intended to escort a young couple he met in a northern village near Rock Fortress back to Cecil’s domain. But along the way, more people in need joined him, until he had a small group following him. Fortunately, after passing through Carol’s territory, he met a merchant caravan heading back to Cecil, which made the journey much easier.
“Where’s your priest’s robe?” Gawain asked curiously. “And the prayer book you usually carry at your waist?”
“I sold them,” Leight said calmly. “Feeding over a dozen people drained my travel funds. These are poor folk, most of whom had their possessions seized by local lords or the church. They set out penniless, so I sold my robe and prayer book.”
Gawain was taken aback. “You sold them? Aren’t those important to you?”
Leight smiled faintly. “The robe was just an old garment. The fabric was good, but it was still just clothing. The prayer book I copied myself—I know all its contents by heart. I can write another if needed. The teachings of the Holy Light aren’t in the objects, but in the heart.”
Seeing the priest’s calm demeanor, Gawain felt a stir inside. He nodded gently, dropping the subject of the robe and prayer book, and instead asked about Leight’s journey to the Holy Spirit Plains. “You returned early. I assume you saw what you came to see?”
“To be honest, I wish I hadn’t,” Leight sighed. “The church has fallen… or rather, it fell long ago. I just chose to ignore it, numbing myself with the idea that ‘everyone believes in the Holy Light.’ The Holy Spirit Plains are no longer a sanctuary blessed by the Light. Greedy priests and corrupt noble lords have joined forces, squeezing the last drops of sweat from the common folk and driving out anyone who resists from their ancestral lands. The only thing I can’t believe is that I left just two years ago, and yet they’ve fallen so quickly and completely.”
“According to reports from the Holy Spirit Plains, ever since last year’s cardinal meeting at the Great Cathedral, their methods have become increasingly extreme,” Gawain said, sharing what he knew. “Partly because the Holy Light sect has grown arrogant and corrupt as the dominant power among the churches, and partly due to directives from the church’s upper echelons.” He looked Leight in the eye. “But I believe no church can be entirely corrupt. You, in my eyes, are a true practitioner of the Holy Light. Leight, welcome back to this still-pure land. The keys to the church are with the steward at the preaching square. I’ve already instructed him—you can return anytime to resume managing the church.”
“…My lord, that’s exactly what I wanted to talk about,” Leight said with a bitter smile, spreading his hands. “I’m afraid I can no longer serve as a Holy Light priest—or manage the church.”
Gawain was genuinely surprised. He stopped reviewing reports and stared at the domain’s only priest. “What happened? You didn’t lose faith and quit because of some trauma, did you?”
Leight didn’t answer directly. Instead, he raised his hands, and for a brief moment, a faint white glow of holiness flickered between his palms—barely lasting a second before dissipating.
Gawain sensed only a faint trace of magical energy—too weak to be called a true divine spell, not even a trick.
“What’s going on?” he frowned. He knew Leight’s original strength. Though his style was unconventional, his divine skills and priestly rank were solid. His strong faith gave him one of the highest levels of holy power among priests his rank. How could he return from a trip unable to even summon a spark of the Holy Light?
“I committed an act against the Holy Light,” Leight said bitterly. “I struck fellow church members who also believed in the Light—and continued beating one after he lost the ability to resist. After that, my holy power rapidly faded.”
Gawain’s expression grew serious. “What exactly happened?”
Leight didn’t hide anything. He recounted in full the events in the northern village near Rock Fortress, his anger and violence when disciplining the two soldiers and the priest, and his contempt and disgust for them. But after finishing, he sighed deeply. “I don’t regret what I did, but I did violate the Holy Light’s teachings. I should have handled it better—but I was blinded by anger.”
Gawain frowned. “And after that?”
Leight spread his hands. “I began my return journey and rescued over a dozen more people… and disciplined about as many more.”
Gawain thought to himself that this priest had been blinded by anger quite a few times… maybe he’d just given up trying to hold back.
He stood up from behind his desk and paced in front of Leight, deep in thought. After a moment, he looked up. “Do you think your actions against the Holy Light caused you to lose your holy power?”
Leight nodded. “That’s the only explanation.”
Gawain stroked his beard, pondering briefly before asking, “And between you and the priest you disciplined, who do you think strayed further from the Holy Light?”
Leight hesitated. He’d been so shaken before that he hadn’t considered this question. Now, he thought carefully. “I don’t know…”
“You know, no one understands the Holy Light more deeply or lives its virtues more truly than you,” Gawain interrupted. “Clearly, if striking a priest counts as betraying the Light, then those priests who collude with local nobles for money, falsely accuse innocent civilians, and use divine magic to harm the innocent are the true enemies of the Holy Light—the dark side of this world.”
Leight was momentarily speechless.
Gawain didn’t give him time to dwell and continued, “The fact is, you’ve lost your holy power, but those priests who stray further from the Light can still wield divine magic. Why do you think that is?”
Leight fell into thought, and Gawain watched the priest who had lost the Holy Light’s favor sink into silence.
He had always been curious about the gods and religious faith but had hesitated to study them deeply, wary of their strange nature. Now, a unique case had appeared—perhaps unfair to say, but Leight had become a special subject for study.
Before Gawain stood a living example of a priest who lost his divine magic due to shaken faith.
Could Leight’s loss of the Holy Light’s favor reveal secrets about divine magic? Or about the connection between humans and gods?
Is divine magic merely a process of self-suggestion, self-affirmation, and self-identification? Or does this process strengthen the bond between humans and gods, enabling divine power?
As he pondered, another thought struck him—if Leight could rebuild his self-affirmation and truly believe his actions aligned with the Holy Light’s true will, would his divine magic return?
But he quickly dismissed the idea. Though Leight said his actions violated the Light’s teachings, his behavior showed he didn’t truly believe that deep down. He clearly knew the priest he struck was the one who truly betrayed the Light. So his faith hadn’t wavered on a subconscious level.
His doubt was on another level.
Gawain’s mind raced through these thoughts in seconds. He looked at Leight, still deep in thought, then broke the silence. “Leight, you are still the domain’s priest.”
Leight looked up in surprise. “But my lord…”
“I know you’ve lost your divine magic,” Gawain raised a hand to stop him. “But is divine magic truly all that defines you as a priest?
“Your faith in the Holy Light, your commitment to virtue, your passion for guiding others toward goodness—none of that has changed. As long as those remain, you are still the best candidate to serve as the domain’s priest.
“Leight, you’re only temporarily lost in confusion. Remember, losing your divine magic doesn’t mean you can’t continue helping others. Those dozen people you brought back were mostly rescued after you lost your magic, weren’t they?”
Leight paused, then nodded slightly. “As you say.”
“Go back to the church and think it over,” Gawain said with a soft sigh. “Many have been asking the steward at the preaching square about you these days. They’re waiting for your return.”
(Two days from now, I’ll be attending a conference in Shanghai, then the Qidian annual meeting next month. The end of the year is hectic, and my carefully saved drafts are finally running out… so updates might be irregular. If you don’t see an update by 5 PM on double-update days, it probably means no update that day.)
Even so, I have to say—it’s the end of the year! The Golden Keyboard Awards have begun! Time to celebrate the authors of the year! Isn’t anyone going to cast a vote? I haven’t really asked for votes before, but for this year-end roundup, I’d really like to give it a shot! Even if I don’t take first place, getting a good result would still be great.
(End of chapter)