If Malin hadn’t known exactly what the Church of the War God truly believed in, he would have stepped in long ago to serve justice on behalf of the heavens.
According to the High Priest of the Church of the Goddess of Harvest, every day they had to go into the wilderness to gather mushrooms and fruits to dry and stockpile. Otherwise, when winter ca, there would be no guarantee they could survive it—just like the previous High Priest. When Malin asked, it turned out that several predecessors had perished in winters past, having distributed too much food to the poor, leaving none for themselves.
Looking at this High Priest, there was no guarantee they wouldn’t et the sa fate one of these winters.
The mbers of the Church of the Goddess of Harvest carried no guilt in their hearts. For his part, Malin, as a red-robed High Priest, once specifically asked the Crown Prince about where all this faith tax ultimately ended up. The latter’s vague and evasive response, coupled with an explosively awkward expression, spoke volus.
Whatever. It’s said that this tax has been collected for over a thousand years. Asking a pitiful Crown Prince about it probably wouldn’t lead anywhere. Malin could only laugh it off in the end, while planning to demand a complete ledger of the faith taxation lists for each church and diocese in the Eastern Kingdom. Once this matter was settled, Malin made up his mind to visit every single church, one by one.
"Your church roofs are leaking and crumbling from age? As the lords, shouldn’t you contribute so funds to give poor parishes a chance to hire free farrs to renovate them? After all, the Goddess of Harvest will grant abundant harvests to your lands (if Malin Gaiate doesn’t crack your skull first)."
Surely the nobles would understand the dire needs of the Church and open their wallets generously.
What’s that? You say you’re poor? Oh, no problem. You could always rally the wealthier folks in your domain to help donate generously. If even that couldn’t be achieved... well, Malin could only arrange for a group of bandits from the western wastelands near Sydney to drop by for a visit.
Yes, those very bandits who could fire volley guns, dig foxholes, wield recoilless rifles, and even boast powerful Transcendent combatants. Surely, they couldn’t belong to Malin’s private militia. Absolutely not.
By then, it wouldn’t just be about "fleecing the bird as it flies." A re 20 or 30 percent? You’d better think carefully.
Life, after all, is the most precious thing, isn’t it?
......
Boarding the ship with veiled intentions of murder, Malin tucked away his thoughts and began listening to Mr. ng’s usual boasting—it was a pasti of his as one of the seasoned veterans in the delegation. Sotis, he ventured to other worlds—India and Southeast Asia, for example.
Contrary to what Malin had thought, there were actually surviving humans in those areas. In the Indian region, for instance, the entire Northern territory had beco a battleground between the Dark Zone and Chaos. Within the Dark Zones, rogue Machine Souls and Chaos forces were locked in constant, vicious battles. Humans there were left undisturbed as long as they didn’t cross those boundaries, which allowed survivors to gradually adapt and grow.
So, these people, centered around Bangalore, began exploiting the ruins of the Eastern world. They salvaged usable materials from the battlefields of the Dark Zone and Chaos, piecing together a ager livelihood. Surrounded by powerful enemies, however, the region beca untenable. Around five hundred years ago, they organized a fleet to venture eastward, hoping to enter Guangxi via Myanmar.
Malin had seen the route Mr. ng traced on a map. Great heavens, it crossed Myanmar, Thailand, Cambodia, and Vietnam in one grand arc.
It did evoke a faint sense of their past glory as the world’s third great power, didn’t it?
In fact, they had indeed fought their way through. The region, already reverted to prival forest before the Great Cataclysm, had few large cities left save for so coastal areas. Though the forest was certainly dangerous, it was at least free from rogue Machine Souls and Chaos. After jubilantly traversing this area, the Indians ran headlong into two Thainan army groups stationed near Guangxi—how convenient, they too had plans to scout and expand into this forest.
The Indians, oblivious to this, assud the towns ahead were akin to survivor camps they’d encountered before. They were preparing for another looting spree when they slamd into a wall of guns and were utterly annihilated.
The Thanans later sent a fleet westward from the Malacca Line toward India, capturing prisoners and establishing diplomatic relations with the Indians. As for Sri Lanka and the Maldives... well, they were likely at the bottom of the ocean. Considering so islands had entirely vanished, leaving no underwater ruins, no one truly knew what had happened in those areas.
Regardless, relations between the Thanans and Indians were tense but not outright hostile—they could still conduct business.
"But Lord Malin, if you ever do business with Indians, rember to demand full paynt upfront. If they’re short even a single cent, they’ll try to wriggle out of paying." Mr. ng said this to Malin with an air of sage advice.
Malin was utterly perplexed—these Indians seed to have a hereditary knack for dodging debts. Even after eight thousand years, they still conducted business this way: "With this kind of integrity, you still want to trade with them?"
"Well, proximity plays a role. Your people do pay swiftly, but if our fleet were to sink in the central seas, it would be total financial ruin. Unlike the Indians over there, where our pioneers recently discovered an old city called Yangon, efforts to clear the ruins have already attracted so survivor tribes. Once we finish clearing the city, we can establish a comrcial hub there. And besides... we’re all human. These people’s civilization has degenerated completely—have you ever seen savages wearing animal skins? That’s basically them now."
Mr. ng’s lant gave Malin so perspective—fine, he couldn’t even muster the energy to scold these savages for being savage.
"Have you found any other major human settlents?" Malin asked.
"Aside from the China Zone, we’ve found very few. Aside from South India... well, the northern Vietnase settlents are counted as one. But after we reclaid Guangxi from Chaos, we found only remnants proving those settlents once existed." Mr. ng spoke wistfully: "My great-great-grandfather served in the military in his youth. He went there and said the place was littered with bones, so brittle they crumbled at a touch—clearly, it’s been a very long ti."
"What about Hainan Island?" Malin asked.
"Gone..." At this, Mr. ng turned to Malin, suddenly curious: "How do you know that na?"
"You’ve forgotten." Malin reached out to solemnly reintroduce Sostak No.3 and Jason to this skeptic.
Mr. ng smacked his forehead: "Ah, my bad! Many places are missing—like the Strait of Malacca, Singapore half-drowned, and all the southern islands are either underwater or in so other dinsion... The Great Cataclysm truly transford our civilization. Lord Malin, surely you’ve heard of the story of the Earth Union?"
"Yes, it was magnificent, truly beyond imagination. Unfortunately, Fate did not grant us the chance." Malin sighed.
Truth be told, Malin had always been sighing—lanting how Fate never gave humanity’s civilization a fair shot. Earth’s humans had been so close to leaving the Solar System and becoming the next advanced civilization to conquer the Starry Sea.
Leaning against the ship’s railing, Mr. ng sighed as well: "All because of those so-called pseudo-gods. When the Evil Gods answered their call, they went mad. They claid they had proven the existence of deities... Well, sure, gods are real, but there are both good and bad ones." At this, Mr. ng lit a cigarette for himself.
"Do you Thanan people have faith now?" Malin asked with a smile.
"Of course, we believe in Master Wu and Confucius, and also True Lord." Mr. ng smiled faintly: "I assu you’ve heard of Master Wu and Confucius?"
"Of course, I know them well. But who is True Lord?" Malin asked curiously.
To be honest, he had heard of True Lord before, but sothing about it felt different from the deities of the Western Human World—it didn’t quite fit that mold.
"Using the terminology of your Western Human World, True Lord is basically an Evil God." Mr. ng’s comnt left Malin wide-eyed in shock.
Hold on, did I just mishear that? Could you please repeat that—what did you say your faith was?!
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