Chapter 65
Now you see why medieval churches loved selling indulgences?
This stuff is real money.
Back in the world he was born in, religions were restricted in all sorts of ways, but temples still made plenty of cash. In this dungeon world, though, religion flourishes—any spare coin people have goes straight into church coffers. How could it not be profitable?
Too bad the money in this dungeon basically can’t be taken out.
Because the time flow here isn’t the same as in other dungeons.
Any dungeon involving gods distorts time and space.
So all the wealth Lu Chuan piled up here could only be spent here.
Once he figured that out, Lu Chuan started throwing money around—building golden temples, maintaining the Paladin Order, and so on.
His logic was simple: If I can’t take the money with me, doesn’t mean I can’t spend it.
Managing things on the [Church of Omniscience] side wasn’t hard. With one hand he controlled faith, with the other he managed benefits, turning nearly all the believers into his personal diehards. He wasn’t formally the Pope yet, but if the Pope showed up now, even he’d have to follow Lu Chuan’s lead.
Meanwhile, under Cynthia’s arrangements, Starry Shasha and Edith managed to meet Lu Chuan in secret.
Edith had interacted with him before, but since they’d never actually cleared a dungeon together, her impression of him was still vague.
But now, seeing Lu Chuan in person, she was utterly floored.
The way he dressed, the treasures he wore, and the circle after circle of fully armed paladins around him—anyone who didn’t know better would think the Pope himself had just been crowned.
No, not just crowned.
This was the kind of display you’d expect if the Pope also became Emperor—uniting both divine and royal authority.
“You may leave.” Lu Chuan waved his hand, dismissing the knights at his side.
The knights bowed respectfully to him, their heavy armor clanking as they left. The ground trembled with their synchronized march—it felt like a small earthquake.
Truly awe-inspiring!
“Wow, Brother Lu, what were they wearing? I tried appraising it just now and the levels were way too high.” Starry Shasha was already excited. How had he managed, in just a few days, to gather such a well-equipped knightly order?
“Divine artifacts,” Lu Chuan said with a smile, propping his chin with one hand. “Money makes the world go round. In a dungeon world with gods, naturally there are items forged with divine power. Those paladins you saw were just interns we recruited from outside. Individually, they’re not as strong as battle-hardened veterans, but their gear more than makes up for the gap.”
“Their armor came from the [Church of Light]. I was selling indulgences on their behalf and got attacked by other churches—my life was in danger. So, the Pope of Light secretly gave us a batch of armor.”
“Their greatswords came from the [Church of the Forge God]. That church is obscure, but their craftsmanship is excellent, and their faithful are devout enough to imbue divine power into their weapons. Those swords are basically B-grade attack tools, and not even single-use.”
“Their shields came from the [Church of Steel], personally blessed by that Pope, giving them the power to block anything.”
“And finally, they received blessings from the Pope of our own [Church of Omniscience], strengthening their bodies and binding them with loyalty to the church.” Lu Chuan shrugged. “The [God of Omniscience] was thrilled to suddenly see so many powerful followers and poured out divine blessings generously.”
Of course, once the blessings were done, those knights became Lu Chuan’s private army.
And Lu Chuan himself? He’d never once shown his face before any of those gods.
#888 had been singing his praises for days, calling him a god-tier host. Lu Chuan almost felt embarrassed.
Bah, basic tricks, that’s all.
He was just taking advantage of the fact that there were too many gods here, none of them able to fathom the dirty tricks of modern humans, and seized the chance to line his pockets.
After hearing all this, Edith set her chin back in place and gazed at Lu Chuan with genuine admiration. “It’s truly an honor to clear a dungeon alongside someone like you.”
Given enough time, she felt he might just unify the entire dungeon world.
It was terrifying.
How had players cleared these dungeons in the past? Edith wasn’t sure.
But in her whole life, she had never seen a player who could turn themselves into the puppet-master of an entire dungeon world.
“It’s just small tricks. They work for now, but won’t forever. Once the gods have their hands free, things won’t be so easy.” Lu Chuan waved his hand dismissively. He knew his limits. The only reason he could pull this off was because the [God of Omniscience] was still blocked from descending by the mark Number 9 had left behind.
Once the gods regained their strength, crushing him would be effortless.
“What’s the situation with Cynthia? Tell me.”
Starry Shasha and Edith quickly relayed everything Cynthia had discussed in their team meeting.
Lu Chuan listened with admiration. “As expected of a former number one. Her thinking is sharp, and she’s covered all the angles. That puts me at ease. Follow her plan for now. Even without me, you’ll clear the dungeon—it’ll just take a little longer.”
Cynthia’s approach was the orthodox way of clearing: slower, but safer, excellent for team cohesion, and something future players could learn from.
Lu Chuan’s way, on the other hand, was something only he could pull off—it demanded too much from one’s mindset.
“Cynthia also wanted to ask: how far do you think you can push your control over the [God of Omniscience]? If you could give her some direction, it’ll help her plan better.” Starry Shasha continued.
“That’s… tricky. Right now, the [God of Omniscience] is trying to forcibly descend into me, but I’m blocking it.” Lu Chuan waved it off casually, completely unaware of how terrifying a thing he’d just said. “Still, so long as I’m willing to pay the price, it’s not too hard to resist. Oh, and give this to her.”
He pulled out the [Cross of Godslayer] and tossed it to Starry Shasha.
“So it really was you who stole this, Brother Lu.” Starry Shasha immediately recognized it—it used to belong to Wang Feng while in the Li Family Village Dungeon. When it disappeared, he’d searched everywhere, even suspected Shen Li for a time.
Back then, she and Shen Li had guessed it must be in Lu Chuan’s hands.
And sure enough!
“How can you call it stealing? It’s spoils of war. If claiming my loot counts as theft, then every item we’ve taken from dungeon NPCs would be theft too, wouldn’t it?” Lu Chuan clicked his tongue. “Just make sure if we ever need to use it, you stay far away. If the god doesn’t die, the backlash might kill you first.”
“Got it.” Starry Shasha nodded obediently.
“Tell Cynthia the rest. Let’s set the timeline at half a month. If the gods don’t fully revive by then, we’ll unleash your ability, Shasha, to force the process forward. We’ll prepare to trigger a god-war.”
Edith, silent till now, stared blankly at Lu Chuan. “A god-war? Us?”
Weren’t they trying to avoid direct conflict with the gods by destroying the god-marriage ritual? Why were they now the ones proposing to start a god-war?
“Cynthia will understand.” Lu Chuan stretched lazily. “If in the next half month we can locate the gods’ altars and destroy their rituals, then we won’t need a god-war. But I doubt it’ll be that easy. The players on the opposing faction may be useless now, but the game system won’t let them stay useless forever.”
If they couldn’t stop the rituals, they had to be ready to fight.
A god-challenge dungeon wasn’t going to let them coast forever.
Meanwhile, Shen Li and Lilus were working themselves to the bone investigating every detail about god-altars.
They’d practically torn apart the homes of various Popes and Bishops, transcribing every scrap of text about godly revival and descent. Exhausted, they’d guzzle potions just to keep going, practically turning themselves into half-experts on the subject.
They’d toured nearly every possible site for divine descent, destroying a few minor deities’ rituals along the way—but the major ones they were watching for? Not a single trace.
That’s very strange.
Could it be that holding a god’s revival ritual doesn’t even need a venue, doesn’t need to account for the surroundings?
After all, the requirements for such a site are usually very strict—unless, somewhere out of sight, there exists another hidden space.
At this moment, the players of the Pro-God.
“My ability, [Space Fold], was temporarily boosted by the system. I can create a space big enough to host a divine descent ritual—but we still can’t let our guard down.” The Pro-God leader looked exhausted. He hadn’t slept for days.
Their side only had 10 players left.
And somehow, whenever they wandered outside, traces of the Anti-God players would show up, forcing them to cut contact immediately to avoid being tracked down through connections.
Because of that, most Pro-God players no longer dared to step outside, hiding in the captain’s folded space instead.
Fortunately, the system had handed them a quest, even providing a ritual blueprint. Once completed, it would help revive a god and allow them to clear the stage.
The Pro-God captain had quickly rallied his shaken comrades and set them to work.
He had no more ideas of his own—better to follow the system’s instructions exactly. Otherwise, he suspected his teammates might just expose themselves in front of the enemy.
The system was spoon-feeding them to this extent. Clearly, it wasn’t that they weren’t trying; it was that the enemy was simply too powerful. Their only chance now was to accelerate the revival and avoid direct conflict.
To be honest, the captain felt insulted being underestimated this badly.
But what else could he do?
He was only one man.
If he truly had the power to turn the tide, he wouldn’t be a conscripted player—he’d be one of the challengers who came here of their own will.
“Captain, we all feel… this ritual is a bit off,” one player said nervously. “We just finished setting up, and our Sanity already dropped by a huge chunk. A lot of people don’t even dare come back now.”
“Of course a god’s ritual will have strange effects. If there weren’t any, that would be the real problem.” The captain’s tone was cold. “Keep going. At this pace, how long until it’s done?”
“Maybe half a month.”
“Half a month is too long. Can you finish in ten days?”
“If it’s ten days, our Sanity will—”
“If the Anti-God finds us, we won’t just lose Sanity—we’ll lose our lives.” The captain frowned. “Speed it up. Stop overthinking.”
“Yes…” The players didn’t dare argue and went back to their work with grim faces.
The captain sighed, stepping into the folded space to inspect the ritual himself.
Soon, he spotted a strange statue placed in the center.
The ritual wasn’t finished yet—who was stupid enough to put a statue there? The descent wasn’t supposed to—
[Do you want the power to defeat them?]
[They’re players, just like you. Why wait to die?]
[Are they really that much stronger than you?]
Suddenly, his mind was flooded with memories of all his past failures—striving and struggling, only to end up with nothing.
He could have joined one of the Five Great Guilds, risen to the top.
But a single betrayal in a dungeon run had ruined his evaluation, and his chances vanished.
Since then, he’d been stuck—replaying low-level dungeons, or paying off “debts” in these conscripted runs.
No resources, no reliable teammates, getting old, with no other talents… he was trapped in an endless cycle of drowning, waking, and drowning again.
Barely surviving, moving from dungeon to dungeon.
…
His head grew heavy. He tried to resist, but couldn’t block out the voice filling his thoughts.
[Worship me, and I will give you strength.]
[With support, you too can wield their power. Isn’t that so?]
[With strength comes the chance to change your fate.]
“Captain!”
“Captain, what’s wrong?!”
“Captain, stop!”
“Damn it—this ritual isn’t even complete yet, how can it already be active?!”
The shouts behind him faded.
The Pro-God players watched in horror as their captain slowly walked toward the ritual’s center.
His body began to melt, fusing with the strange statue that had suddenly appeared.
The statue doubled in size.
