The Advance of Religion

In a year of darkness and turmoil, a shadowy fiend, concealed within a merchant’s vessel, set foot upon the mainland.

From that moment, a terrifying despair began to rage, and though people wept and screamed, they could not prevent the blight upon life from spreading relentlessly.

This black devil cackled wildly, bringing forth countless deaths and madness, reaping innumerable souls, and dragging them toward the abyss.

Due to the world’s dwindling vitality, the Church, which had once wielded immense divine power in such times, now found itself struggling to cope.

While divine arts and holy water still existed, the clergy were growing scarce.

‘Who cares about the lowly commoners?’ they seemed to ask.

Thus, with the Church turning a blind eye, the shadowy fiend continued its rampage.

Faith in the authority of the Holy See began to waver among the common populace.

Shadows lurking in the cracks, and corruption festering in the mud, faced with a continent plunged into chaos and sorrow, also began to stir restlessly.

However, these events had little to do with Yoiz Forest or the nearby villages.

The reasons were twofold: their remote location in the mountains, sparsely populated, and another, more peculiar factor.

Kovit, in his idleness, poured ‘Lesser Disease Expulsion Potions’ into the forest streams.

He also occasionally sent his equally idle, perpetually shedding companions – despite their abundant fur – to deliver mountain spring water mixed with healing potions to unfortunate, sick villagers.

With these ancient, valuable remedies providing protection, it would be truly strange if any fragile pathogens could infiltrate.

Not long ago, through the accounts of a wolf returning with an empty bucket, Kovit learned that, due to his actions, he had mysteriously acquired the moniker of ‘Shepherdess of Wolves.’

Its origin, it seemed, was that very hunter who had once visited his manor.

This revelation only further enlightened the silver-haired doll about the sheer intensity of humanity’s gossiping nature.

Still, it was far better than being called a ‘Bloody Butcher’ or ‘Enemy of the Divine.’

The being, who had lived for over a thousand years, smiled with a touch of profound emotion, experiencing gratitude for the very first time in their long life.

The doll’s life was carefree, yet inadvertently, it had begun to attract the attention of those with ulterior motives.

The Church, at this moment, found itself in a state of utter disarray.

Having disregarded the sentiments of the common populace, the foundational faith in the Holy See had grown unstable.

In times of its former might, the Holy See would simply eliminate all opposition.

However, with its vitality waning and the religious schism of the past, the Church’s power was now but a shadow of its former self.

Though its strength had diminished, the Church was not entirely helpless.

Since the ignorant masses harbored doubts, why not fabricate an enemy to distract them from their suspicions?

Thus began the witch hunts.

Countless young, intelligent, learned, and beautiful women were branded as ‘witches,’ accused of devouring souls and luring others to depravity.

The more ordinary among them faced brutal execution in public squares.

As for those whose ‘depravity’ was deemed more pronounced – often synonymous with their beauty – they were handed over to high-ranking priests and knights for repeated ‘executions.’

Of course, some of these ‘witches’ were indeed truly wicked, but their proportion was, frankly, negligible.

Therefore, when the Church, currently busy bolstering its prestige with innocent lives, heard the seemingly credible rumors of a ‘Shepherdess of Wolves’ in Yoiz Forest, it naturally would not let such an opportunity slip by.

And so, a well-equipped expedition from the Holy See embarked on a journey to vanquish the utterly heinous ‘Shepherdess of Wolves.’

As for our protagonist, what was he doing at this very moment?

He was, of course, using specialized ‘protective enchantments’ on a [Life Wheat] pouch linked to his crystal ball to surreptitiously observe… or rather, to keep a watchful eye on his beloved Holo as she ventured forth!

‘Oh, oh, oh! That uppercut was beautiful! Well done, Holo! Kill those damned bandits!’

As for the notion of ‘letting go completely,’ Kovit declared that anyone who uttered such words would be strung up on a tree to air-dry for three days and three nights!

After all, he had nurtured her for decades; how could he simply let go?

Moreover, his Holo was so adorable and innocent; what if she encountered silver-tongued scoundrels out there? (Possessive father mode activated…)

Christine felt a profound unease.

As a maiden dedicated to serving the divine, she had lived a life of ascetic purity for over a decade, believing her heart, still as crystal, would no longer know turmoil.

Yet, she now found herself consumed by a rare anxiety, for she realized that even her tightly wrapped robes could not shield her from the fervent, deeply significant gaze fixed upon her from ahead.

The source of that intense gaze was a resolute silver-armored knight named Oston, who rode a magnificent white steed, whose coat was as pristine as freshly fallen snow, as he led the expedition forward.

“Press on, my comrades! Our objective is near! The Holy Light shines upon us!”

His fervent, spirited voice was so inspiring that anyone who beheld this handsome knight would undoubtedly praise him as a ‘noble Sir Knight’!

However, Christine, privy to certain insider knowledge, knew that this outwardly splendid knight harbored a darkness far removed from the public’s perception.

Christine had once greatly admired Oston, known as the ‘Smiling Knight’ and ‘Son of Radiance.’

He was considered the most promising rising star, destined to become Grandmaster of the Templar Knights before middle age.

However, an accidental discovery revealed the profound darkness hidden beneath his radiant exterior.

One night, the young woman had witnessed the corpse of a brutally tortured girl being transported from a small side door of Oston’s residence.

The girl’s bruised, despairing countenance had been seen just days prior at a bakery!

Back then, that beautiful face had been rosy, full of life, smiling at Christine as she bought bread.

Shocked and driven by the bedrock of her conscience, Christine used her status as a candidate for Saintess to secretly investigate.

Extortion and plunder, the r*pe and murder of young women, the bribery of superiors, and the brazen abuse of public office for personal gain – the deeper she delved, the more people became implicated.

This shocking depravity filled Christine with a sense of boundless darkness.

Christine had always harbored a vague awareness of the darkness within the Church.

However, when the profound corruption and depravity, long hidden beneath a veneer of light, was brutally laid bare before her, the impact on the young woman was unparalleled.

To discover that her faith held no value, that the sacred brilliance she once revered concealed countless corrupt powers and base desires, was devastating.

To learn that the very dignity of the Church, which she was willing to sacrifice her life to protect, was so utterly rotten, brought the young woman to the brink of collapse.

Yet, Christine ultimately endured, bolstered by her unwavering resolve.

However, those dazed days were eventually noticed by the supreme authority of the Church, the Pope.

After subtly rebuffing the Pope’s veiled suggestions, Christine was stripped of her status as a candidate for Saintess and exiled to a small church to serve as a priestess.

Christine still remembered the expression on the face of another candidate for Saintess, a mix of mockery and disdain, as she saw her off when Christine departed the central Holy See.

Her walking posture was a little strange, though…

Disheartened and weary by these experiences, Christine had intended to spend the rest of her days in a dilapidated monastery.

Yet, fate played another cruel trick on her: before she could even settle into her new post, Christine was conscripted into the expedition against the ‘She-Wolf Witch.’

And the leader of this contingent was none other than Oston, the very man she had once investigated!

Moreover, the meaningful gazes from the Knight-Commander, who announced the orders, and Oston himself on the day of departure sent shivers down her spine.

‘Ah… when will these days ever end…’

The golden-haired maiden looked up at the sky and sighed deeply.

“Good day, old sir. I am from the Templar Knights. I’ve heard rumors of a witch here. Do you know anything about it?”

The knight on the white horse gently inquired of an old man in the village.

However, seeing Oston’s pure, innocent smile, Christine felt nauseous.

“Oh, Sir Knight, where did you hear such rumors of a witch? We have no witches here, sir.”

The white-bearded elder respectfully replied to Oston.

Not hearing his desired answer, the silver-armored knight frowned, then quickly smoothed his expression.

“Please think again, is there a mysterious being named ‘Shepherdess of Wolves’ in the forest?”

Hearing ‘Shepherdess of Wolves,’ the old man paused, a subtle wariness entering his eyes as he looked at Oston, then continued:

“I am truly sorry, Sir Knight, but this old man has never heard of any legend of a ‘Shepherdess of Wolves.’ I apologize for disappointing you.”

The old man feigned trepidation, bowing in apology.

“Never mind. If you don’t know, then so be it. We will ask others.”

As he watched the white-bearded old man depart, a faint shadow began to cloud Oston’s eyes.

“Comrades, we will enter the village first and find lodging!”

“Understood!”

The knights in the team, looking at their captain’s radiant smile, chorused their agreement.