The Holy Church Begins with Bestowal of Blessings

Chapter 161: Black Night New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on novel⦿fire.net

In the black night, within an almost sealed space, over a dozen people opened their eyes, their faces marked with fear.

They listened to the sound of movement outside the space — it was the werewolves who had destroyed their homes.

Each of them held a crude cross in their hands, as if it could bring them a shred of solace.

On the outermost edge stood two robust men, holding crude wooden spears. Their round shields were already damaged, and their cotton hoods were tattered.

Soon, the outside fell into sudden silence.

The atmosphere in the space became tense. Then came a bang — the sealed wooden door was rammed. The force of it caused the door to creak with just one hit.

“Damn it, they still found us,” someone cursed from the group in the back.

Compared to the others, he was more properly dressed — at least there were no patches. He held a handmade object in his hands.

“Sirs, warriors of the Church of the Sanctuary, please allow me to aid you in battle,” he said. “My strength is insufficient to draw a bow or wield a blade, but the crossbow I crafted can pierce their bodies.”

“Your crossbow only has one bolt. There are at least four werewolves outside,” one of the Temple Warriors replied without turning his head.

“If the priest doesn’t mind, let me use that crossbow. Even with a single shot, I can pierce their heads at close range,” the other Temple Warrior said.

This place was a small church belonging to a local noble, now being used by them as a miniature fortress.

The man who spoke was the priest of this small church.

He hesitated, but in the end nodded and handed the crossbow to the Temple Warrior.

“Just pull this trigger and it will fire,” he said.

The Temple Warrior nodded and took the crossbow.

After Hode covered their retreat and allowed the two of them to escape, they had considered returning to the Church to report the matter to the bishop.

But they were too deep within the werewolf kingdom. They were unfamiliar with the terrain and not hunters who could navigate by instinct.

So they relied on the method of throwing branches to find their path. In doing so, they wandered around here and gradually rescued these dozen people.

Then, they continued to lead them, following the guidance of the branches.

The priest shrank back into the crowd, while the two Temple Warriors stood alert.

Bang, bang, creak, boom.

Finally, the wooden door was smashed open.

The Temple Warrior holding the crossbow fired decisively. The bolt pierced through the eye of the werewolf that peeked inside and embedded itself into the brain.

“Awooo~” The werewolf let out a howl, its body flailing wildly on instinct.

The Temple Warrior showed no mercy. He charged forward with a shield strike, smashing the werewolf’s head hard. The impact shattered the skull and drove the bolt deeper.

The werewolf convulsed once — and died completely.

There was a brief silence. The stuck werewolf was pulled out, and then another rushed in.

“Die, you mutt!” the Temple Warrior shouted, brandishing his wooden spear and shield, trying to block the werewolf at the door.

However, the werewolves were too agile. Two more burst in through the breach and began grappling with the Temple Warriors.

The remaining two tore the wooden door completely apart and squeezed in through the Temple Warriors’ defense.

Crimson, greedy eyes glowed fearfully in the darkness, and screams echoed from within the small church.

“Do not fear! There are only two of them! The Temple Warriors are still fighting, and we have the Lord’s protection!” the priest suddenly raised his makeshift cross and shouted.

His voice rang loud and clear, echoing through the confined space of the small church. In an instant, the terrified screams were suppressed, even causing the werewolves to pause briefly.

“Look! They’re afraid! They tremble! The Lord is with us!” the priest rejoiced in his heart and shouted again. Then he threw aside the cross, grabbed a stick as thick as a calf’s leg, and charged forward, smashing it onto a werewolf’s head.

The stick broke, and the werewolf let out a furious roar.

But someone had taken the lead. The rest, whether inspired by the priest’s call or simply driven to madness by fear, surged forward. With sheer numbers, they overwhelmed the two werewolves.

…

The night passed. No more werewolves attacked. Of the five that had come, all were killed — but two people were also bitten to death by the counterattacking werewolves.

By day, the Temple Warriors again used thrown branches to decide their direction. But this time, the branch stuck into the ground.

The two looked at each other, unsure what it meant.

At that moment, the priest walked over, wearing a newly crafted cross around his neck.

“I believe this may be the Lord guiding you both — suggesting you stay in this town,” the priest said.

The two hesitated. Seeing that they could be persuaded, the priest quickly continued.

“Last night you used a powerful crossbow. Just pull the trigger and it can launch a bolt capable of piercing a werewolf’s body. This means that even an ordinary person, after some basic training, can kill a werewolf.”

“Moreover, we commoners also managed to kill two werewolves together. That proves even ordinary people, when united, can kill werewolves and perhaps even survive in this damned place and defend it.”

“This is a noble cause — saving lives. One that would surely please the Lord,” the priest said, watching their expressions carefully.

He had only met the two Temple Warriors yesterday and had merely chatted briefly with the other civilians following them.

But even with just one night of interaction, he had realized: he could tie every righteous and kind thought he could think of to them — and talk to them on that basis.

Clearly, from their reactions, his judgment was correct.

“Saving humanity, protecting lives — it is indeed noble. But our strength is too limited. It’s already exhausting to protect just these dozen people,” one Temple Warrior said.

“We can start by defending from the Lord’s Fortress,” the priest said, his smile growing more sincere.

“There are armors and weapons there. We can use them to arm ourselves.”

“I am a priest. I can preach the Lord’s teachings, helping them develop stronger faith.”

“Arm their bodies with armor and weapons. Arm their souls with unwavering faith. They will become unbreakable warriors.”

“Perhaps, when our numbers grow, we can even drive the werewolves out of here,” the priest said.

The two Temple Warriors exchanged glances, then looked at the branch stuck in the ground — and finally nodded.

“Let’s follow the priest’s suggestion,” the Temple Warrior who had spoken first said.

Then he looked toward the other man, and the two shared a silent moment.

The priest found it a bit strange, but in the end, the Temple Warrior who had spoken sighed and pulled out a Holy Scripture he had kept close, handing it to the priest.

“Priest, you can read, yes? This is the Holy Scriptures of the Lord. If you preach, please use this as your foundation,” the Temple Warrior said with some reluctance.

“The Holy Scriptures of the Lord?” the priest asked with curiosity. He casually flipped to a page — and nearly burst into laughter.

Such innocent faith — no wonder it could produce such kind and righteous Temple Warriors.

Suppressing his amusement, he instead felt a surge of respect.

No matter how naive he thought this faith to be, those who lived by it truly deserved his respect.

After all, if it were up to him, he would never have dragged over ten commoners around this werewolf-infested region.

“Very well. I shall preach based on the Scriptures,” he said. “Oh, and I am Flint — Flint Evan. You two are…?”

“Vito,” said the Temple Warrior who had handed over the Scriptures.

“Leo,” said the other Temple Warrior.