Chapter 489: Seventree

Flamberon and his clergy retreated into the church district, slamming the gates shut behind them. In that moment of panic and instinctive flight, it was perhaps the most foolish decision he had ever made in his life.

By surrendering the outer city, he shattered the last vestiges of unity within the Holy Light Church.

Three days passed since then.

The chaotic, farcical heresy trial three days ago had ended with the complete lockdown of the church district. Since that moment, an eerie atmosphere had settled over the entire city.

The civilians who had gathered around the pyre platform lingered long after the church gates were closed, watching silently. Yet no one dared to storm the church or overthrow the clergy. Instead, the crowd gradually dispersed, thinning out until only a few remained. But Amber knew better—the people may have scattered, but the fire in their hearts had been ignited.

Those three days that followed only fanned the flames higher.

For three consecutive days, the Cecilian forces launched relentless “leaflet bombardments” without pause. Every morning, noon, and evening, specially designed shells would release a flurry of leaflets over Luan City. Magical winds scattered the papers, blanketing the city in a cascade of propaganda.

These leaflets didn’t just fall in the outer city—they drifted into the church district as well. This time, the clergy finally gave up trying to clear them away.

They let the leaflets pile up on rooftops and courtyards, abandoning any hope of regaining control over the outer city or restoring order.

The people of the outer city openly collected the leaflets, discussing the clergy in the streets and alleys. Day after day, waves of citizens gathered in the square before the church district’s sealed gates, glaring at the locked doors with burning resentment. At night, flickering candlelight moved through the streets, shadows whispering open defiance against the church.

The curfew had completely broken down. The outer city was caught in a strange limbo—calm and frenzy, apathy and madness coexisting. A metallic, coppery scent of blood seemed to hang in the air. Yet at the city’s heart, the church district remained unnervingly silent.

Since Flamberon had entered the cathedral, no priest or church knight had seen the bishop emerge.

Night fell on the fourth day. In a hidden safehouse near the square, intelligence agents gathered in a small room lit by flickering candlelight. The agent nicknamed “Skinny” stood by the table, reporting the latest intelligence:

“The church district gates remain sealed. From the outer city’s high points, we can see the small chapels, but the cathedral itself is completely silent. It seems Flamberon locked the cathedral from the inside as well…”

Another agent stood up. “No signs of clergy attempting to flee.”

“The civilians have spontaneously blocked all the exits. Our earlier rumors that the cathedral clergy planned to escape seem to have worked.”

“Some church soldiers stranded in the outer city have voluntarily disarmed themselves. They left their posts, bound each other, and came to the streets asking civilians for food. We managed to guide the residents to share some supplies with them. Those soldiers are now on our side.”

Amber listened quietly, idly toying with a dagger in her hand. Her long elven ears twitched subtly in the air, occasionally turning sharply toward some unseen sound, her expression distant, as if waiting for something.

One subordinate finally noticed and asked, curious, “Boss… are you even listening?”

“I am,” Amber waved a hand casually, then her ears twitched again. “But hold on a moment—we have guests tonight.”

The agents exchanged surprised glances. Amber flicked her wrist, and the poisoned dagger she’d been handling vanished silently. Almost immediately, a sharp knock sounded at the door.

“Go open it—no violence.”

An agent near the door obeyed, hand resting on the hilt of his short sword despite the order. The door swung open to reveal a tall, thin man in plain coarse linen clothes, with short, curly brown hair—looking every bit a commoner. Behind him stood two others, similarly dressed.

The tall man glanced around the room warily, tension clear on his face. The agents inside tensed as well, muscles tightening instinctively.

Though dressed as civilians, these three were no ordinary townsfolk—their skin was healthy and well-nourished, their eyes bright despite the nervousness. They clearly hadn’t gone hungry recently. Such signs could only mean one thing: they had come from inside the church district.

Just as the atmosphere thickened with suspicion, Amber’s voice called from the back of the room: “Let them in. I knew they’d come.”

The agent at the door stepped aside, allowing the three inside. After they entered, he quickly peeked outside to confirm no ambush or tail, then shut the door firmly.

The three approached Amber, who scrutinized the tall, thin man—the obvious leader—before breaking the silence.

“I thought you wouldn’t show. Then I’d have had to use the backup plan.”

The tall man gave a wry smile. “We searched for you for a long time. I never expected you’d be hiding so close to the church district—right under our noses.”

“The more dangerous the place, the safer it is. Just like the more devout the place, the less faith there is,” Amber said casually, causing the man’s face to twitch. She cut him off before he could respond. “Introduce yourselves. My people are curious.”

“Seventree,” the tall man said after a pause, a hint of hesitation in his voice. “A low-ranking priest, caretaker of a small western chapel. These two are my friends—Amaycrit and Colmanroni.”

Amber nodded, explaining to her agents, “Seventree is the one I contacted. I slipped a note to him, arranged for him to come.”

The agents were surprised, but all had been personally trained by Amber. They quickly grasped the significance of these three clergy fleeing the church district and said nothing, watching closely.

“To be honest, I thought you’d come alone,” Amber said to Seventree with a teasing tone. “When I heard three sets of footsteps, I almost sentenced you to death.”

Seventree ignored the veiled threat and asked curiously, “Why me?”

This tall, thin middle-aged priest was one of the punished clergy seen at the heresy trial square—barefoot, wearing a rough robe, watched over by the discipline monks. But he wasn’t the only one punished, which made him all the more curious.

Amber answered offhandedly, “There was a priest passing through Luan City from the southern territories—his name is Light.”

“Light… the big guy?” Seventree blinked in surprise, then caught on. “Ah, I see… so he really is with you. I remember him. Since the reform of the divine arts, you rarely see priests of the old school like him. How’s he doing lately?”

“Not bad. The God of the Holy Light dumped him, and then he dumped the God of the Holy Light. Now he’s making his own light and teaching others to do the same,” Amber shrugged. “His story’s complicated. But here’s one thing: Light said that if there are still a few people in Luan City with a conscience, Seventree would be one of them. That’s why you were chosen.”

“Having a conscience has become a rare trait among clergy?” Seventree’s voice dripped with bitter irony. But his expression soon settled into something more neutral as he looked at the short half-elf before him and the agents in the room. His face was a tangle of emotions. “What do you want? You—or rather, the duke behind you—what exactly are you after?”

Amber smiled faintly, polite but firm. “We want the Holy Light Church out of here.”

Seventree’s face twitched again. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll report you to the cathedral right away?”

“Don’t be stupid. That would make me question Light’s judgment too. By now, you should see the situation clearly. Do you think we’re worried about your report? Besides… do you think the Holy Light Church can still hold its ground in the southern territories?”

Seventree’s expression darkened, as if about to argue. But before he could speak, Amber picked up a sheet of paper from the table and handed it to him.

“Take a look.”

Curious, Seventree took the paper, expecting another Cecilian leaflet. But as he read, his face froze.

It was a newspaper dated yesterday. The front page bore a huge headline:

“Evil Spreads in Luan City; Millions in the South Await Lord’s Restoration of Holy Light Order”

Beneath the chilling headline was a vivid black-and-white image: church knights and soldiers dragging beaten, barely conscious civilians toward the pyre.

Though such scenes of heresy trials had become common in recent years, the angle and the square’s grim backdrop made this one especially horrifying.

“This is a newspaper. I don’t know if you’ve heard of these under lockdown, but they circulate all over the southern territories, twice a week. Think the leaflets dropped in the city these days are many? They’re just scraps from printing these papers.”

Seventree let the paper fall from his hands, all his hopes and stubbornness crumbling.

So… the terrifying, overwhelming leaflets flooding Luan City were only the tip of the iceberg of Cecilian operations.

The thought of how long these people had been lurking within the city of Luan, and how they had used some kind of magical power to relay information about the city’s situation, sent a chill down the priest’s spine.

And all of this… was orchestrated by that terrifying founding hero, Gawain Cecil, wasn’t it?

“Exiling the Holy Light… what do you hope to gain from that?”

The devout priest of the Holy Light finally spoke, his voice hoarse—so much so that even he was startled by it.

“You’ve got one thing wrong,” Amber quickly corrected him. “We never intended to exile the Holy Light from the start. What we want to exile is the Church itself—only by casting out the Church can the people truly receive the Holy Light.”

“Exile the Church?” The heart of the man from Seventree, already on the verge of despair, suddenly skipped a beat. It seemed he was beginning to grasp the crux of the matter. “You mean…”

“A new Holy Light order,” Amber said with a bitter laugh. “I never thought I’d be discussing this with a priest of the Holy Light, but hey, it’s my job. We will establish a new Holy Light order—and all it takes is a little cooperation from you.”

(End of chapter)