Chapter 866

【 PREACHING IN PRISON 】

It was a dimly lit prison.

Dark, damp, and filled with the foul stench of sourness, decay, and rot.

It was as though this place were a forgotten corner of the world, abandoned and despised by all. The cold stone walls were stained with moisture, while the air felt heavy and suffocating, carrying the unmistakable odor of filth and neglect. The only sounds that broke the oppressive silence were the faint scurrying of rats and cockroaches in the darkness, accompanied by occasional cries of torture, vicious curses, and the anguished howls of prisoners enduring unimaginable suffering.

These dreadful sounds echoed through the narrow corridors, piercing the eardrums like the wails of vengeful spirits awakened from a slumber lasting countless years.

Suddenly, amid the harsh creaking and grinding of stone, the prison’s cold gate slowly swung open. Several Inquisitorial Knights marched inside, escorting John directly toward the prison hallway.

Once they reached further inside, they roughly secured his wrists and ankles with anti-magic shackles, binding him thoroughly.

Compared to a few months ago, Old John now looked considerably more disheveled. His once-neat hair was somewhat messy, and his appearance bore the unmistakable signs of the hardships he had endured. Yet despite his ragged condition, there was something about him that remained unchanged.

His back was still perfectly straight, like a resilient pine tree standing firm against a raging storm.

It seemed that nothing in this world, no matter how harsh or cruel, could force him to bow his head.

“Mr. John, welcome to your new home.”

The Eternal priest who had escorted Old John here spoke in a mocking, sarcastic tone. As he finished speaking, he viciously kicked him with the contempt one might reserve for a worthless criminal.

Old John, however, showed little reaction to the priest’s behavior.

He merely turned his gaze toward the man and regarded him with quiet indifference. His eyes remained bright and clear, seemingly burning with an eternal flame that no amount of suffering could extinguish.

Although his expression was perfectly calm, his gaze seemed to conceal an inexplicable strength, one that made the Eternal priest instinctively uneasy.

For a brief moment, the priest found himself unable to meet Old John’s eyes. Faced with that unwavering gaze, the priest let out a cold snort and turned his head away, attempting to conceal his discomfort behind an expression of disdain.

However, Old John’s gaze did not remain on the priest for long.

He surveyed the dimly lit cell, meeting the vacant, lifeless eyes of prisoners staring out from behind their respective cells. His gaze then passed over the guards, who were so thoroughly drunk that they looked like heaps of mud.

Perhaps because they had spent too long in this prison, the guards looked scarcely better than the prisoners themselves, despite wearing slightly more respectable clothing.

“Stop looking around. Your quarters are right here!”

The priest sneered and roughly shoved Old John toward a dimly lit cell.

Looking at the dark, damp cell, which was crowded with prisoners staring at him with ill intentions, Old John chuckled softly.

“So this is how His Holiness, the Pope, treats his guests?”

The Eternal priest spat at Old John.

“Heh. At a time like this, you still think you’re a guest? You wicked heretic!”

Then he kicked him into the cell, slammed the door shut, and sneered.

“Mr. John, I’ve already given your new roommates some instructions. I’m sure they’ll take really good care of you. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

With that, he burst into laughter and left with the knights.

The area soon returned to darkness.

However, with Old John’s arrival, he quickly became the center of attention in the cell as one prisoner after another gathered around him.

Their gazes were dangerous, and their faces were twisted into mocking grins.

They were also considerably more muscular than the prisoners in the other cells. Many wore anti-magic shackles, making it clear that they were experts who possessed extraordinary abilities.

The prisoner leading them was a burly man nearly two meters tall.

He sneered at Old John and cracked his knuckles.

“Oi new guy, what’s your name?”

Meeting the man’s hostile gaze, Old John smiled gently.

“You may call me as John.”

“John? Guys, he says his name is John?”

The burly man burst into laughter and looked at the other prisoners, who promptly joined him in a chorus of mocking laughter.

However, as he continued laughing, his expression gradually turned vicious.

“Starting today, your name isn’t John anymore. You’re Dog Shit!”

“No, Dog Shit isn’t my name. It’s hardly an uplifting expression.”

Old John replied in a gentle tone.

The prisoners laughed even louder.

The burly man looked at Old John as though he were an idiot. With a cold sneer, he said, “Heh, I love newcomers who refuse to obey.”

“Since you don’t like that name, then I’ll teach you what it means to like something!”

With that, he clenched his fist and swung it toward Old John.

Like Old John, the burly man wore anti-magic shackles on his wrists and ankles. He was clearly an expert as well. And since he had become the leader of the prisoners, he was probably an exceptionally powerful one, even among other supernatural experts.

After all, although anti-magic shackles could suppress an expert’s powers, they could not alter the person’s physical constitution. The more powerful an expert was, the stronger their body generally became.

The prisoner leader threw a punch straight at Old John’s face, generating a gust of wind with the force of his strike.

Yet Old John did not dodge at all. He simply stood there, calmly watching the approaching fist.

Seeing this, the prisoner’s leader grinned even more viciously.

He seemed to be anticipating the sight of Old John getting his head smashed open by a single punch.

However, the instant his fist struck Old John, a faint radiance emerged from the latter’s body. The prisoner leader felt as though he had punched an iron plate. A sharp pain shot through his fist, causing his expression to change as he cried out in pain.

He looked at his reddened fist, then at Old John, who remained completely unharmed. His expression filled with uncertainty and alarm.

“Y-You… Who exactly are you? Why hasn’t the anti-magic shackles suppressed your powers?!”

Old John sighed softly.

“I’m John, just an ordinary man pursuing the light.”

The radiance around his body gradually faded, as though it had never appeared at all.

It was the power of divine favor.

Although the anti-magic shackles had prevented him from drawing upon the power of faith and communicating with the gods, the blessings of a True God were engraved into the very essence of someone bestowed by divine favor.

So unless someone possessed the blessing of another deity capable of breaking through the power of divine favor, ordinary faithless individuals and followers of evil gods could not harm him without wielding sufficiently powerful supernatural abilities.

This was a secret known almost exclusively to those who had received divine favor. It was also the reason why Old John could travel across the continent despite having the body of a mere ordinary mortal.

“Stop pretending! He must be hiding something on his body! Get him! Beat him senseless and search him thoroughly!”

The prisoner leader barked at the others.

At his command, the prisoners roared and rushed toward Old John from all sides.

However, after a flash of golden light, they all cried out in pain and were knocked to the ground by the force rebounding from their fists and ankles.

In just a few moments, every prisoner who had attacked Old John was sprawled across the floor, groaning in pain, leaving the prisoner’s leader utterly stunned.

“W-What the… Who exactly are you?”

His expression now carried a hint of wariness and fear.

Old John sighed.

“Just an ordinary man pursuing justice and equality.”

The prisoner leader was taken aback.

“Justice? Equality?”

Then he scoffed.

“What justice and equality are you talking about? This world is all about the survival of the fittest and the rule of the strong!”

Old John merely shook his head.

He looked deeply at the prisoner leader and said, “I know who you are.”

“Me?”

The prisoner leader was momentarily stunned.

Old John’s gaze settled on a tattoo on the man’s wrist, a symbol resembling a wolf’s head.

“I remember more than twenty years ago, the Empire produced a legendary-rank war general. He led the Imperial Army to defeat the forces of the Orc Alliance, securing more than twenty years of peace…”

“Yet after the war was won, that general became the target of persecution by the great nobles. Falsely accused of being a blasphemer, he was imprisoned in the prison of Dororia Castle, a fortress prison renowned as the most impregnable in all of Holy Manya Empire, if not the entire world of Seiguës. It held countless political prisoners and heretics…”

“This is practically common knowledge among the common people of the Empire.”

As he spoke, Old John looked deeply at the prisoner leader.

“And the symbol that identified him was the wolf totem on his wrist.”

The prisoner leader fell silent.

Old John sighed softly before continuing.

“Lord Charles, the ‘Wolf Claw,’ General, when did you begin to truly see yourself as nothing more than a prisoner? And when did you finally give up on everything?”

Old John’s words left Charles bewildered.

After a moment, he sank to the ground, seemingly losing all his strength in an instant. He gave a self-deprecating laugh.

“Heh… So what if I’m now just a prisoner? So what if I’ve given up on everything?”

“It’s all gone. I have nothing left. In the end, I’m just a commoner with impure blood, a man with werewolf ancestry running through his veins. No matter how much I’ve contributed, I’ll never be recognized…”

“This world was never equal to begin with. The nobles are born noble, while the lowly are born lowly. The stronger someone like me becomes, the more wary the nobles grow of me…”

“The Eternal Church is no different. It’s nothing but hypocrisy. They claim that after death, devout believers will ascend to the divine kingdom and enjoy eternal happiness. They claim that all believers are equal in the eyes of the gods… Yet they cannot even change the injustices of the mortal world. What meaning is there in talking about equality after death?”

“I’m nothing more than a blade they’ve used and discarded…”

“Reality itself is just a dark, corrupt prison. Outside its walls stand the nobles and the Church, while inside are the commoners and slaves. How is that any different from this prison?”

Charles’s face was filled with dejection and bitter self-mockery.

Old John, however, smiled gently.

“Lord Charles, if that is truly how you feel, then it means you still wish to see things change. So why not try to pursue that change once more? Why not seek a path that offers something genuine?”

“Change? A genuine path?”

Charles was momentarily stunned.

“Of course. A world filled with light and hope, where everyone can live in happiness and enjoy justice and equality.”

Old John smiled warmly.

Charles stared at him for a moment before scoffing.

“A world of justice and equality? Heh, you’re talking about justice and equality in a world ruled by supernatural beings? You… You must be insane.”

“Then what if the gods themselves were willing to serve as arbiters, taking responsibility for upholding justice?”

Old John suddenly posed another question.

Charles froze.

For the first time, his expression genuinely changed.

He examined Old John carefully and soon noticed that, although the man’s clothes were torn, they appeared to be the distinctive garments worn by clergy.

His expression immediately grew wary.

“You… Who exactly are you? Are you a follower of an evil god?”

“No, I am not a follower of an evil god. I follow the most just, the most benevolent, and the greatest True God in this world.”

Old John shook his head.

Then he smiled faintly.

“Mr. Charles, have you ever heard of the supreme Goddess of Life, the Mother of Nature, and the Sovereign of the elves, the World Tree?”

༺⟐༻

Old John’s imprisonment seemed to cause little disturbance at first.

Apart from the confrontation on his first day, there were apparently no further attempts to bully or torment him inside the cell.

Moreover, no one knew exactly what Old John had said, but in just three days, Charles, the notorious “Wolf Claw,” who had terrified his fellow prisoners and given the guards countless headaches, seemed to have become an entirely different person.

His attitude toward Old John had changed from disdain to solemnity, and then gradually from solemnity to respect.

The prison remained as oppressive as ever.

Yet after Old John was imprisoned there, another voice could be heard within its walls, a voice full of vigor and conviction.

It was measured and expressive, warm and resonant.

Little by little, that voice painted a picture for the prisoners of a world governed by justice and equality, a beautiful world where they could finally find true liberation…

As time passed, more and more prisoners gathered around Old John, listening to his sermons. They listened as he explained the doctrines of the Church of Life, spoke of the Goddess’s greatness, and described her benevolence and commitment to justice.

Gradually, the sounds of fighting and brawling among the prisoners became less frequent.

In their place came the faint sound of daily prayers, accompanied by confessions punctuated by sobs.

As time went on, the number of prisoners gathering around Old John continued to grow. Even prisoners in other cells began clinging to the iron bars, listening intently to his teachings.

The way they looked at Old John became increasingly respectful, increasingly devout, and increasingly fervent…

Something seemed to be changing, little by little.

The prison remained deep and damp, its atmosphere as rotten and sinister as ever.

Yet within the darkness, a glimmer of light and a hint of life had begun to emerge.

No one noticed the changes taking place in the depths of the cells.

However, as the prisoners began to change, the prison guards eventually realized that something was wrong.

“What are you doing, you wicked heretic?! How dare you continue spreading your evil doctrines and beliefs even here in prison?!”

The captain of the guards stared in alarm at the prisoners gathered reverently before Old John, listening to his teachings.

Yet the only response he received was Old John’s familiar, gentle smile.

“Sir, I am not spreading evil doctrines or beliefs. I am preaching the true light of faith.”

“Bah! Absurd! What a load of sophistry!”

The guard captain spat in contempt.

Then he shouted to his companions.

“What are you standing around for? Get him out of there and lock him in another solitary cell! Then hurry and summon the Inquisitorial Knights!”

The guards immediately sprang into action. However, the prisoners moved even faster.

With hostile expressions, they turned toward the guards and formed a protective barrier around Old John.

The guard captain was left dumbfounded by such sight.

“M-Madness… You’ve all gone mad!”

He cursed them furiously.

Yet as the guard captain continued shouting abuse, Old John’s voice rang out once more, as warm and resonant as ever, making it difficult for anyone to resist listening.

“Sir, have you ever wondered why, despite being a soldier serving the Empire just like the others, you are the one who must remain confined to this dark and damp prison?”

The guard captain froze.

Almost as though acting on instinct, he stopped what he was doing and looked at Old John with a mixture of suspicion and uncertainty.

“What are you getting at?”

Old John smiled faintly.

“Sir, could I borrow a little of your time?”

“I would like to tell you about our benevolent Goddess, the great World Tree, Her Majesty Evé Yggdrasill…”

—

---

〘 PREVIOUS 〙

〘 NEXT 〙

— —

---