Chapter 59
The bishop of Omniscience fit every stereotype of a cult priest.
Old, gaunt, with eyes burning with greedy ambition.
He began with lavish praise for the god before getting to the point.
“Thanks be to the god’s blessing. My lord, surely your piety moved the Father, who granted you such great fortune.”
Blessing, my ass. That was gold I pulled from the system and buried myself at midnight.
Lu Chuan smiled, mimicking the bishop’s pious gestures, and replied, “Indeed. Without the Father’s mercy, I would never have seen so much gold in my lifetime. Therefore, after repairing my castle, I will build a small chapel for the Father. Forgive me, Bishop, I cannot yet erect a golden, magnificent cathedral—but I believe that day will come.”
Hearing that the gold’s destination was already decided, the bishop grew anxious.
He hadn’t come all this way to hear Lu Chuan say that.
Loyalty to the god aside, a bishop couldn’t ignore the worldly matters of the church.
And any organization’s growth required money—vast amounts of it.
Especially in this world where divine authority outweighs royal power, the struggles between different sects are even more complicated. To keep one’s sect standing firm, the first requirement is a powerful military.
But to train such a force—whether in armor or in swords—it all has to be piled up with money.
Yet their church, stuck in the countryside, could only grow slowly. The followers were almost all poor. Even if they offered up all their possessions, the dream of supporting a private church army was nothing more than a fool’s fantasy.
That was why the bishop came here—for this batch of gold.
“Father will surely remember your devotion.” Though the bishop was anxious inside, his expression didn’t betray a thing. “But for now, other evil gods are suppressing my Lord in all kinds of ways. Building a church for Him now would only expose you, Lord, as His follower. It’s better not to do it yet.”
After that, the bishop praised Lu Chuan in a pious manner, then pretended to suggest that the lord divide the gold in half, to fund Father’s own knightly order.
Lu Chuan acted reluctant, bargained with the bishop, and finally agreed to donate half of the gold—on the condition that he be made a deputy bishop.
Thus, the two sides came to an agreement.
The bishop was glad enough to find a wealthy patron for his church. Running a sect was truly difficult now. The power struggles between churches were beyond what ordinary people could imagine, and with rival deities watching hungrily from the shadows, there was no moment to relax.
The next day, Lu Chuan used the excuse of helping with church affairs to grow closer to the bishop, while also probing for news of his teammates and other players.
But perhaps his teammates were hiding too well—he found no sign of them for now.
Or maybe they hadn’t found a way to reach each other yet.
Only after Lu Chuan had grown familiar with the bishop did he casually remark, “Speaking of which, some time ago while patrolling my lands, I saw a few suspicious strangers. I had them seized and interrogated, and it turned out they worshipped some so-called ‘God of Desire.’ When we tried to press further, they killed themselves. Bishop, have you heard of this name before?”
The God of Desire—that was the deity [Messiah] had spoken of, the one who had entered into a divine marriage contract with him.
It was said this god was skilled at seducing hearts, loved watching mortals die at the peak of their desires, and was equally unrestrained in indulging its own lusts.
Whatever it wanted, it had to have.
Messiah’s class ability was rather special, and being trained since childhood by the Noah Guild, his player qualities were first-class. But during his second dungeon run, his exploration of side quests had gone too far, inadvertently linking into a god-level dungeon. By sheer misfortune, he was noticed— and once that happened, there was no escaping.
The bishop’s expression shifted ever so slightly, but Lu Chuan’s eyes caught it.
“Bishop, if their believers have already reached my domain, could it be they’re after me?” Lu Chuan feigned fear. “Surely they’re not here to steal our gold…”
“That won’t happen.” The bishop hastily reassured him. “This so-called god is nothing more than a false deity. There’s nothing to fear.”
“Bishop, your tone doesn’t sound right.” Lu Chuan kept up his anxious act. “As one of the kingdom’s lords, I ought to worship our nation’s ‘Rose of Battle.’ Instead, I’ve chosen Father God. That alone is dangerous. And yet you won’t tell me the truth. Do you doubt my loyalty to Father God?”
“Lord, there’s no need to worry. The God of Desire has long since fallen. Those using the name now are just petty gods without true identity, or subordinate spirits with the barest tie to the authority of desire but none of the power. They linger in big cities, not out here in the countryside.”
The bishop refused to say more, leaving Lu Chuan with no choice but to drop the matter.
But the bishop had reminded him of something.
This time, the Main God System hadn’t restricted the dungeon to a fixed map. Which meant this dungeon’s boundaries might be larger than any Lu Chuan had ever entered.
The reason he hadn’t gotten news from his teammates yet might simply be that they weren’t even in this city.
To reunite with them, the first step was to spread his own presence and wait for them to find him.
But as a minor rural lord, what could he really do?
He’d have to grow the church first—expand its influence, edge out the bishop, and seize control of this unformed sect for himself.
[Host, go for it! This church must be ours!] #888, now in human form, had come to grasp the importance of holding power.
Once you’ve tasted authority, it’s hard to quit.
And Lu Chuan was a master among masters.
He had wealth, and he had rank.
If he didn’t expand his power now, when would he?
With his management experience, his silver tongue, and his generosity—handing out food and drink to believers, printing and distributing Father God’s teachings, flashing the occasional “miracle”—and with the status of deputy bishop, his influence spread like wildfire.
In contrast, the bishop was a poor leader.
Running a heretic church, and instead of keeping a low profile and giving his flock some sweetness early on, he tried nothing but brainwashing and manipulation. It might hold up for a while, but in the long run, resentment was inevitable.
Lu Chuan was different.
With his higher status, small favors, and occasional “divine signs,” he easily convinced believers that he, more than the bishop, had Father God’s favor.
In the end, as long as the god’s name didn’t change, who the bishop was didn’t matter.
Soldiers are constant; leaders come and go.
No one truly cared who the bishop was.
—
Messiah woke up to find himself living in a glittering, resplendent cathedral.
He quickly pieced together his identity.
Because the god who had bound itself to him in divine marriage had immediately granted him the relevant memories.
Now, he was the king’s young prince—chosen as the god’s vessel.
Under the church’s arrangement, he would become the Holy Son, the voice of the deity. Even the Pope would have no choice but to bow before him.
The only restriction: he could not leave the cathedral for now.
The church’s original god had already been devoured by the God of Desire. That god had not yet fully revived, and under the game system’s restrictions, could only communicate with Messiah through a divine tablet.
Messiah’s real name was, in fact, Messiah.
An orphan raised by the Noah Guild, he never had a name of his own. The guild’s most prized protégé, when he entered the Evil World game, he simply adopted “Messiah” as both his in-game name and true name. It suited him perfectly.
For he truly was, like the Messiah described in scripture, a boy of breathtaking beauty—gentle-hearted yet cautious and meticulous. An ideal rising star for the guild.
The Noah Guild’s players all favored sacred names, often drawn from the Bible, making their nicknames a kind of shield: anyone who saw the name would know they were core members of Noah, and wouldn’t dare provoke them.
But such protection was nothing against true gods.
[Messiah, once we hold our wedding, you’ll be mine forever.]
[Not even the Main God System can separate us.]
[Stay here with me, always.]
[You’ll never need to fear death again.]
…
The divine tablet’s words streamed past like a barrage, thousands of lines of love pouring out in moments, impossible to ignore.
Even if Messiah closed his eyes, they rang in his head, unceasing.
Every moment. Every second.
He had no idea how he endured it.
But because he did endure, the god only grew more obsessed with him.
They were a match made in heaven.
Messiah eventually went to the Pope, asking for several friends to be allowed to accompany him. He briefly described their appearances.
The Pope could only agree.
[I can find them for you.]
[I’ll turn them into puppets, so they’ll always stay by your side.]
[Messiah, your eyes must only look at me.]
[Your body and soul are mine.]
[Don’t you dare look at anyone else!]
“If you really make them puppets, I’ll never forgive you.” Messiah said each word firmly. “Let them leave this dungeon safely, and I’ll stay here with you.”
The divine tablet filled again with words.
[Deal.]
[Messiah, you made the wise choice.]
[You always know how to soften my heart.]
…
Messiah snapped the tablet shut.
It couldn’t silence the voice in his mind, but at least his eyes no longer had to see the words.
He didn’t know why Lu Chuan had chosen a dungeon tied to him.
But if he was truly never to leave, at least he could ensure the others got out safely.
When the Pope left Messiah’s chambers, he immediately summoned several knights.
“Prince Messiah is our precious Holy Son. You must guard him without leaving his side. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
The Pope nodded, still trusting the knights he had personally trained.
What he didn’t expect, however, was that one of these knights was no longer loyal.
That knight was actually a summoned player.
When he realized this dungeon was a god-tier dungeon, he knew he was in for a nine-deaths-and-one-life scenario.
But then the system gave him the chance to choose a faction.
Of course he’d help the god!
To oppose a god would only end in disaster.
The moment he learned his role was that of a knight, he immediately understood: this Prince Messiah was the one chosen for divine marriage. His mission was to protect him, conceal the truth from others, and ensure the divine marriage wasn’t disrupted.
As long as he played his part properly, he could survive this dungeon safely.
——
Meanwhile, in a knight training camp under the jurisdiction of the Church’s royal city, Edith opened her eyes.
She was a veteran player. Though all items below grade A were banned, she still had a few A-grade items earned from the Witch’s Elixir dungeon, along with her earlier stockpiles. She wasn’t completely powerless here.
She quickly figured out her new identity.
A trainee knight?
Edith wasn’t satisfied. But since her own class already aligned with knight abilities, climbing the ranks wouldn’t be difficult.
Still, where were her teammates?
And Messiah—he was dragged into this dungeon too. Was that god still haunting him? Was he looking for her?
This might be their last time running a dungeon together. After all, she now belonged to the Star Guild.
Edith sighed. No matter what, if she could help resolve Messiah’s god-entanglement, it would be for the best.
Naturally, she also chose the opposition faction.
——
Compared to Messiah and Edith, Shen Li—the poor guy dragged in just to fill the Master-Ranking roster—had the unluckiest start.
Maybe the Main God System was targeting him on purpose, because his opening role was that of an imprisoned heretic cultist, bound in chains and heavily guarded.
Shen Li was dumbstruck.
Huh??
Not only was he shackled so he couldn’t use his skills, but he was also under strict watch. Escape was a pipe dream.
Seriously, Main God System, are you messing with me?
Forcing me into the dungeon just to fill ranks was bad enough, but you give me this trash start?!
If complaint letters were allowed, Shen Li could’ve written ten thousand in one go.
But there was no choice—the system wouldn’t change its verdict for him.
All he could do was accept reality.
So infuriating!
After sizing up his jailers, Shen Li reluctantly analyzed his situation. Then, gritting his teeth, he punched himself hard in the stomach, twisted his own wrist until sweat streamed down his face, and started wailing in the cell.
“Ahhh, it hurts! Somebody help me—!”
——
As for Starry Shasha, her start—like her unlucky class—was a mix of misfortune and luck.
Unlucky, because she was chosen as a sacrifice for an unknown cult’s evil god.
Lucky, because she was still too young, so she was only being pampered and fed for now. She wasn’t due to be sacrificed anytime soon.
Seeing no familiar faces nearby, Shasha decided to hold back on unleashing her powers—for now. If she couldn’t find her teammates later, then she’d reconsider. Otherwise, her ability might accidentally doom her allies.
——
Lilus and Cynthia had comparatively normal starts.
Both were ordinary citizens—just living in different cities.
When Lilus realized he wasn’t in the same place as his sister and couldn’t contact her, he nearly tore the room apart.
What the hell?!
Why was the Main God System saying their communication tools were banned because they weren’t A-grade?
Who even makes high-grade communication trinkets anyway?
Lilus wanted to curse out loud.
This dungeon had no time limit and no mention of time flow rate. Who knew how long they’d be stuck inside?
But he still had his role restrictions. He couldn’t afford to screw up here, so he forced himself to swallow his temper and focus on finding teammates.
Cynthia, on the other hand, was born into a wealthy household—a young lady of a gentleman’s family.
While searching for allies to no avail, she instead discovered several players aligned with the god’s faction. They were zealously loyal, and actively scheming to expose opposition-faction players like her.
Most players knew there was a shortcut in faction-versus-faction dungeons: if all the opposing faction’s players died, the clear rate skyrocketed, sometimes even leading to no-loss clears.
So these god-faction players would try to root out opposition players and have NPCs kill them.
But Cynthia wasn’t polite. She manipulated events so that these players were accused of being “possessed by an evil god.” Once NPCs suspected them three times, the system judged them as failed, and they were eliminated.
Until she reunited with her teammates, maybe it was best to wipe out enemy players first.
——
Back on Lu Chuan’s side.
When the bishop returned from days of missionary work, he was shocked to find that the congregation now seemed more loyal to Lu Chuan than to himself.
Calmly, he studied Lu Chuan with growing suspicion.
Something was off. Had this little lord always been this shrewd?
[Warning: Player [Arrival of the God of Wealth], your current NPC suspects you of deviating from roleplay. Please dispel their doubts within ten minutes. Failure will result in roleplay failure.]
The system prompt came instantly.
A flash of killing intent surged through Lu Chuan.
Of course—he was born to rebel, unwilling to have anyone lording over him.
This bishop was walking right into his own grave.
Lu Chuan already had a hundred ways to eliminate him, but he hid it well, smiling as he spoke, “Why are you looking at me like that, Bishop? You must have been very successful in spreading our Father God’s name while you were away.”
“More or less,” the bishop replied, still scrutinizing him. “But you, Lord, in just a few days, seem to have won much of the congregation’s devotion.”
“That’s only natural!” Lu Chuan laughed. “Before, I had no path forward as a minor noble—climbing higher was impossible. But in our church, I found true purpose. My life will be spent glorifying Father God’s name, so that when death comes, I won’t be ashamed of a wasted existence…”
His words sounded deeply sincere.
But the system gave no prompt—proof the bishop still didn’t fully believe him.
Well, what else could he expect? A cult bishop wasn’t about to trust easily.
Lu Chuan sighed inwardly. Looks like it was time to play his trump card.
“Actually, Bishop, while you were away, I managed church affairs in your stead. I’ve realized one glaring issue: our church lacks the support of nobles and the wealthy. Father God’s name doesn’t reach them, and it fills me with anger.”
“They already have their own faith. Nothing we can do about that,” the bishop replied cautiously.
“That’s because they haven’t truly experienced Father God’s greatness!” Lu Chuan spread his arms wide. “I have an idea that might change that. But…I’m not sure if I should first seek Father God’s will.”
“What idea? Speak.”
“The nobles and wealthy already enjoy more privilege than commoners. To win them over, we must offer something real. Why did I, a noble, come to believe in Father God? Because He forgave all my sins. When death comes, I can enter His divine kingdom and enjoy bliss forever. Why not sell this bliss to others?”
The bishop blinked. “Sell it?”
“Exactly.” Lu Chuan leaned in. “In Father God’s name, we print masses of holy vouchers. You, Bishop, pray to imbue them with a spark of His radiance. Anyone who buys one earns a chance at forgiveness and entry into His kingdom. Even without believing in Him first! The more vouchers, the more sins redeemed.”
“We are born with original sin. Only by buying Father God’s forgiveness can we secure eternal joy after death!”
Just as the medieval Church had thrived on the wicked indulgence system, so too could this world.
Copying history books was the easiest cheat code.
The bishop was stunned.
He could already imagine how the nobles and wealthy would respond: for just a small price, without even needing faith, they could secure a way into the divine kingdom—a backup plan for the afterlife. Who wouldn’t want that?
[NPC suspicion dispelled. Player [Arrival of the God of Wealth] confirmed roleplay intact.]
Author’s note:
In reality, my country has strict laws and official institutions for managing religion.
Indulgences were from middle school history, right? I don’t remember clearly. For rich people and nobles, it was nothing more than a little money. Besides, if they really carried divine power, to them it was just an investment. If the new god won, then they were followers; if the god lost, they’d just say they’d been duped. At worst, they’d lost a bit of money. It was all just a game of “willing buyer, willing seller”—just not putting all their eggs in one basket.
But for the church and the gods, having money to develop themselves was all that mattered—how it was done didn’t matter in the early stages.
PS: the note here is adapted from a famous line in How the Steel Was Tempered.
