Chapter 80

Chapter 80: The Collapse of Faith

Sitting in his chair, Mozell pulled out his pocket watch for the third time this evening.

It was precisely ten o’clock.

After glancing away from the watch face, Mozell looked around the cramped room.

In front of him stood an old, worn long table with a chair on the other end.

This place was far too simple for a negotiation, hardly inspiring any sense of sincerity.

But if one considered it as a dumping ground for a body, it made all too much sense.

On a dark and windy night, with very few footprints around, it felt exceedingly eerie.

And indeed, Mozell was here today with murder in mind.

At the top of the Samuel Bell Tower.

Just then, a soft knock came from outside the door.

“Come in.”

Mozell chuckled to himself.

On the brink of death, yet still putting on a polite front for no one to see.

He never doubted that Lynn would show up for this negotiation.

Because there really was no irreconcilable conflict between them.

Lynn’s previous actions and the fundraising efforts that involved the entire city’s church ultimately boiled down to one thing: money.

He was in cahoots with Duke Tilius.

Given that, he wouldn’t let go of a chance to profit massively from Mozell.

The concessions he feigned would surely make Lynn let his guard down.

And that would be when Mozell showed his true colors.

As these thoughts flashed through his mind, Mozell saw that face he so despised—Lynn’s.

“You’re early,” Lynn said as he slowly entered the room, glancing around. “You’re not setting up some sort of trap for me, are you?”

Mozell’s heart raced, but he maintained his composure. “If you’re so paranoid, why come at all?”

“Don’t worry, there’s no trap here, just my two subordinates.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Lynn nodded and then took a seat across from him, followed by a burly soldier in military garb, looking like he could crush a wall with his bare hands.

Mozell noted the stranger’s weak divine aura and shrugged it off.

“Alright, I’ve come as per your request,” Lynn stated flatly. “So, how do you want to proceed?”

Despite the killing intent swirling inside him, Mozell chose to play it cool for now.

“Fifty thousand gold coins to remove those things at City Square immediately,” he proposed, laying out his ludicrous price. “Plus, you’re prohibited from stirring up any more trouble regarding recent events with the Church of Heavenly Justice.”

He knew the demand was absurd, but it was his last chance to offer Lynn an out.

If Lynn could actually accept such terms, Mozell would breathe a sigh of relief.

Fifty thousand gold coins was a sum he could cover with his amassed wealth over the years.

More than that, it would help him avoid angering that terrifying woman, Ivyst. In his eyes, this deal was a steal.

But just as he expected, the conditions were utterly ridiculous.

“Are you joking?” Lynn scoffed, “Multiply that by ten, and I might consider it.”

“So there’s no negotiation?”

Mozell’s gaze turned icy in an instant.

“From my perspective, it seems you’re the one not wanting a proper discussion,” Lynn slammed the table suddenly.

At that, Mozell’s two subordinates stepped forward, their divine energy flaring. An invisible force suddenly crashed down upon Lynn’s guard standing behind him.

The soldier grunted and knelt to the ground.

Seeing this, Lynn’s eyes narrowed, and he asked, “What are you planning?”

Oh, so you can show that expression too? The usually calm young man seemed genuinely rattled for the first time.

This change amused Mozell.

The way Lynn had remained unfazed while killing two people at that banquet left a strong impression on him, even sparking a hint of fear.

But now it seemed he was merely untested in dire circumstances.

Everyone reveals their true colors when facing the threat of death.

“What am I planning? Well, it’s obviously to breach our agreement,” Mozell chuckled, signaling his subordinates to capture him.

He was ready to enjoy watching Lynn’s struggle for survival before he died.

“You really are naive,” Mozell shook his head. “I said we’d negotiate, yet you only brought one person with you. No sense of caution whatsoever.”

As two men drew closer, Lynn fell silent.

To Mozell, this looked like surrendering to defeat.

Just as Lynn was about to be pressed down onto the table, he suddenly spoke up, “Are you planning to kill me here?”

“Of course,” Mozell sneered, “As the scum hindering the Church’s progress, this is a conclusion you should have anticipated long ago.”

“Aren’t you afraid of breaking imperial law by doing this?” Lynn challenged.

Seeing him pinned on both shoulders and seemingly unwilling to protest, Mozell leaned on the table, rising slowly: “Who would’ve thought, as a bastard of the Bartleyon Family, after all that’s happened, you’d still cling to such naive ideas.”

“Law? That’s merely a tool for maintaining the authority of the privileged classes. As a Transcendent and Church Bishop, I’m part of that elite.”

“Only the beasts and the lowly need to adhere to such ridiculous nonsense.” Upon hearing this, Lynn fell silent.

After a moment, he spoke again, “Second question: why are you so intent on putting me to death?”

“Why so many questions?” Mozell snapped, “Asking this and that, but the end result is death anyway.”

“Let’s just chat, as you said, I’ll be dead soon.”

Facing imminent danger, Lynn managed to keep a sense of humor, much to Mozell’s annoyance.

“I already said it: because you hinder the Church’s progress,” Mozell reiterated.

“I didn’t actually want to kill you, but you just had to go and send yourself to Duke Tilius like a lamb.”

“You know what he’s after; it’s a struggle against the Church of the entire city.” Mozell stated nonchalantly. “He holds a Duke’s title and commands a powerful army. Even if he can’t profit from us, he’d still be as safe as houses.”

“But you, on the other hand, are just a washed-up family scion, exiled with no support. Following a princess regarded as a devil, you’ve got no backing whatsoever. It’s literally like wearing a sign that says ‘I’m a soft target, please come take advantage of me.’”

“Tell me, in this situation, if you don’t die, who will?”

“I see,” Lynn nodded. “But I never asked you for anything; all I wanted was to advocate for some benefits for those injured soldiers.”

“Such noble intentions,” Mozell mocked. “But I’ve told you many times, your actions are undeniably obstructing the Church’s progress.”

“So what exactly is your definition of ‘the Church’s progress’?”

Lynn interjected suddenly.

Mozell raised his voice slightly and replied as if it were obvious, “The money from the lowly is the Church’s progress!”

“Do you know how much profit the Church of Heavenly Justice extracts from those fools every year?”

“Eight hundred thousand! Every year!” Mozell’s eyes gleamed, “Just from donations and alms collected from them, we reach that staggering figure!”

“And still, they ought to be grateful to us, believing we’ve relieved them of the Empire’s exorbitant population tax!”

“Tell me, how can one not love a group of moronic swine who are so easily deceived?!”

Mozell seemed to have slipped into a strange state, almost unaware of his enthusiastic rant.

Perhaps his unshakeable belief that Lynn would die soon caused this uncharacteristic uncalm behavior.

“And you, with your deeds, wish to siphon away the money we’ve painstakingly gathered from them!”

“That’s just absurd.”

Mozell slammed the table.

At that, Lynn’s eyes suddenly flickered with strange light: “So, in the end, where does all this money go? To the Imperial Capital? Who does it go to?”

“Of course—”

But at that moment, Mozell furrowed his brow.

He felt as though he’d just unwittingly walked into a trap set by Lynn, who seemed to easily extract information from him.

As for the names tied to the old, powerful families in the Imperial Capital, he certainly wasn’t about to blurt them out.

Even mentioning some of those ancient, dreaded surnames made him shudder.

Lynn’s disappointment glinted in his eyes.

He originally wanted to pry out information about the shadowy figures, but Mozell didn’t seem foolish enough to fall for that trick.

“Got any more questions? Fire away.”

Mozell seemed determined to fully satisfy Lynn’s curiosity before he took off.

“Last question.” Lynn locked eyes with Mozell, “What are the public and the believers to you?”

Mozell answered without hesitation, “Swine and dogs. No, that’s a bit unfair; at least pigs and dogs have various uses—they can be eaten or kept as pets.”

“But those trash people who moan about everything, blaming fate for their miseries, aside from spreading endless negativity, their only purpose is to let us drain them dry.”

“Did that satisfy your curiosity?”

“Quite satisfied.”

Lynn suddenly raised his hand, lightly clapping.

“If you’re satisfied, then may you enjoy your final journey.”

Mozell dropped his smile, giving one last appraisal of Lynn’s face.

“Wait.” Lynn shook his head suddenly, “Before that, I have two things to tell you.”

In the next instant, as Mozell’s eyes widened, the young man unbound himself from his restraints and stood up slowly from his chair.

“What the hell—”

“M-Master, for some reason, it feels like we can’t move suddenly!”

One of the subordinates responded in a panic.

Mozell jolted in shock.

However, Lynn appeared utterly unfazed as he walked slowly toward the window.

“First thing: You see the populace as swine; they see you as an enemy.”

With that, he threw open the dusty window.

Looking at the calm expression on his face, a wave of deep unease washed over Mozell.

“Second thing: I actually lied to you last night.” Lynn suddenly broke into a mischievous smile, “The Samuel ceremony isn’t in seven days; it’s tonight.”

“Buzz!”

Mozell’s mind exploded in an instant.

Upon grasping the implications of Lynn’s words, his face drained of color and he stumbled back a few steps.

Then, as if his neck had rusted, he mechanically turned to look out of the window.

What had been an empty bell tower below was now surrounded by a crowd carrying candles.

The flickering lights illuminated the previously pitch-black surroundings, revealing familiar yet unfamiliar faces.

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