Fellner felt that Vic didn't seem to be joking with him.
And his own innate abilities seemed to help him prove this point. The blurry image of the running giant was just as he said, the Sun-Chasing Giant.
But deep down he didn't really believe that this was true.
Fellner looked at him again, still frowning.
With such a foolish look, how could he be the king of an ancient dynasty
Fellner said nothing.
But his eyes and expression seemed to say it all.
Vic saw all of this.
He couldn't help but twitch his mouth: "... I always feel that you are saying bad things about me in your heart."
"You don't believe it, do you?"
Fellner shook his head when he heard this: "No, I barely believe it."
Reluctant to believe...
Vic was silent for a moment.
If it's really too much of a stretch, then I think you should just stop believing it...
"Since you said you were the king of a lost ancient dynasty..." Felner did not discuss whether to believe it or not, and instead asked, "Then was this body of yours... stolen?"
Fellner said, pointing to his chest.
Hearing this, Vic shook his head and did not hide anything from him. Now the two of them were tied together, with their lives and deaths tied together.
"No… "
He held out his palm and looked at it.
"When I wake up, maybe I have already died once..."
“I’m not really sure who I am anymore.”
"Maybe it's Vic, maybe it's the King of Varissa, maybe... both? Who knows..."
Vic smiled.
He doesn't care about this matter anymore.
Perhaps he should be called a new soul now, possessing both the memories of King Varissa and the memories of Vic.
Seeing that he seemed to be thinking about philosophy, Fellner did not dwell on this topic for too long.
"Well, Lord Varissa."
Fellner looked around.
"We are now in the border fog. Can you tell me what we should do next?"
After hearing this, Vic was silent for a moment, looked at the dark and thick fog, and spoke slowly.
"You'd better pray that we can find the remains of the Sun Chaser..."
"Otherwise, we will most likely be lost in this fog forever..."
…
Woo—
The steamship in the harbor hummed and set off again.
This new steam-powered ship was particularly conspicuous among the many ships in the port, causing exclamations from the islanders.
A tall man with a cigar in his mouth and his muscular chest exposed slowly walked down the gangway, glanced around, and walked towards the island.
However, before the man got far, a small hand firmly grabbed the corner of his clothes.
He turned around and saw a dirty little girl with her head lowered and her hands raised, begging at him.
Looking around, there are many children like this around, and not just children.
There were also many disabled old people and crying women.
They seemed to be under unified command, and whenever passengers got off the boat, they would come forward to beg.
After taking a look at the slightly dilapidated town, the man took out a few silver coins and put them in the girl's hand.
Then he turned and left.
But soon, five or six children appeared in the corner of the alley, came up to him and stretched out their hands, as if they had been watching him secretly for a long time.
The man pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
Then he reached out and grabbed the little hand that was trying to steal.
The thieving boy's pupils suddenly shrank and he struggled hard, but found that the other person's hand was as motionless as an iron clamp.
Just when he thought he was in trouble, he heard the man's hoarse, magnetic, low voice.
"Stay here and don't move."
As his voice fell.
The boy felt as if his whole body was controlled by an inexplicable force. He walked to the side with his companions uncontrollably, and then stood in a row obediently.
"Assholes... What do you want to do, you little brats? Are you going to rebel?"
It seemed that their actions were too outrageous. Following a question, a group of ferocious thugs soon appeared.
Just now, they looked like ordinary porters at the dock.
Rogge looked at the thugs who had surrounded him with a calm expression.
He didn't speak or move.
Just stood there quietly, and then a thought came to my mind.
In an instant, the group of people in front of them turned into ashes and dissipated into the air...
Then he exhaled a puff of smoke, turned around and walked towards the town.
At this moment, he was possessed by a fabricated incarnation and came to the north of the Sea of Repentance.
Of course, he invented more than one incarnation.
What's happening here is just one of the things he has to do.
This is the faith territory of the Polar Night Church within the Lopasman Empire, a large island called "White Radish"...
This place is full of poverty, exploitation and oppression.
In this regard, the Lopasman Empire far exceeds the faith territory of the Mother Goddess and the surrounding demigods.
As a unified and vast empire, the Lopasman Empire has existed for a long time.
The corruption within it can be described as filthy. The church and the nobility have joined forces to squeeze the marrow out of the common people under their rule, and do their utmost to squeeze out every drop of value from them.
This naturally made the civilians miserable.
As we all know, there is a common sense that if people cannot eat, they will try every means to get food, even if it means rebelling.
This is true even in a world with extraordinary powers.
But the only difference is that the result of the rebellion is completely different...
"Go away! Damn it!"
Snapped!
The whip hit his back, leaving a deep bloody mark and causing screams.
On the street, soldiers were escorting a group of people to the execution platform, whipping and urging them along the way.
Among the people being escorted were people of all ages, both men and women, young and old.
The only thing they have in common is the simple flame brand on their arms...
Roger stood on the second-floor balcony of the tavern, leaning against the railing and took a sip of liquor.
These detainees, who share common characteristics, are rebels from the Lopasman Empire.
They had a name that was widely circulated throughout the Lopasman Empire.
Self-immolation.
This is a rebel organization within the Lopassman Empire. Although they are scattered, they have a common goal and will, which is to resist.
Every member of the self-immolation group has a simple flame pattern branded on their arm.
The meaning of this name is very simple, it comes from a joke made by a nobleman.
"Their resistance is like a moth flying into a flame, which is no different from self-immolation."
In the eyes of the nobles and believers, what these people did was either resistance or self-immolation.
After all, this is not a world where everyone is equal physically.
The oppressive class, which holds tremendous power, is not afraid of being hanged by the enraged common people.
They would just hang those who resisted.
Class stratification has taken hold and oppression has reached its peak.
In such a situation, are there any vested interests who would betray their own class
Of course.
When Rogge's incarnation traveled around the Lopasman Empire, he had also heard some such rumors.
Unfortunately, there are only a very small number of such people. Their joining only prevents the self-immolation organization from being easily swept away like garbage, and allows it to survive until now...
So here comes the question.
Since these oppressors are not afraid of resistance and can plunder civilians with impunity, why are there so many islanders today
The reason behind this is truly magical.
After the nobles and the church had worked together to oppress the common people to a certain extent, they were shocked to find that the number of common people was decreasing.
That’s right, people are not like water in a sponge. No matter how hard you squeeze it, there will always be some residue left. If you don’t give them food, there is no way to get food. What can you do? You can only die.
They could suppress resistance, but they could not make civilians immune to death.
… No, it’s not impossible.
All I can say is that it’s fortunate that the God of the Midnight Church does not control the power of death and resurrection.
Otherwise, these civilians might have to be resurrected even after they die, and become zombies that work tirelessly to cultivate the land...
After they realized this problem, they realized that some changes should be made.
Their changes were simple.
Eat. I'll pay for the meal.
The believers had to work hard to solve the food problem for these civilians so that they would not starve to death, and they could also sing praises to the great gods at the same time.
The money to solve the food problem was naturally borne by the nobles.
The benefits go to the church, and the nobles bear the infamy.
Do they have any objections
Of course not. The nobles were so happy that they were itching to grit their teeth.
But there is no way, because the church has the power. If they were not the ones who had to rely on for ruling and blood-sucking, the nobles might not have a need to exist.
The nobles seemed to understand this as well, so they did not allow the commoners to disappear completely, but instead tried every means to increase their population.
The church and the nobles bully the common people. If there were no common people to bully, then the church would naturally only be able to bully the nobles.
Therefore, with the help of the nobles' forced "consciousness", the common people were able to secure basic food supplies.
The three have returned to a strange balance point.
All this seemed quite absurd to Roger.
Just as Roger's thoughts were wandering.
The self-immolators were escorted to the execution platform by a group of soldiers.
Below the execution platform, there were groups of civilians watching.
Most people seemed to be accustomed to the scene before them, with numbness in their eyes.
This kind of thing is too common.
The executioner who was guarding the scene seemed to be in a hurry to get off work. After saying a few polite words, he started the execution phase. Anyway, no one listened.
If nothing unexpected happens, today's execution will be over soon.
However, since Rogge is already standing here, it is unlikely that nothing unexpected will happen.
Accompanied by a burst of noise from the crowd.
A group of masked men armed with weapons rushed out from all directions. From the branding on the arms of some of them, it was not difficult to tell that they were also part of the self-immolation movement.
The group of self-immolators roared and attacked the execution team.
They seemed to have been planning for a long time, and there were some extraordinary people among them. They quickly dealt with the execution team and rescued their companions amid a lot of noise.
Seeing this, Roger raised his head and drank the last sip of liquor in the bottle.
Ding Dong.
The crisp sound of a wine bottle falling to the ground was heard, but Roger's figure disappeared on the spot.
…
White Radish Island Port.
Teams of soldiers quickly surrounded them from all directions and engaged in a fierce battle with the self-immolators.
boom!
A huge explosion was heard and a tavern collapsed.
"Quick! Get on board!"
"Brian... I leave it to you!"
The fierce battle spread throughout the port, and the masked leader of the self-immolators shouted loudly.
Hearing his words, a tall self-immolator nodded, took a deep breath, took out a piece of black flesh with a determined look, and put it into his mouth.
Following a painful scream, his body began to swell rapidly. His muscles violently burst through his skin, and he turned into a humanoid monster burning with flames in the blood.
After a roar, he rushed towards the team of soldiers under the gunfire and weapons, causing a bloody storm, and used his flesh and blood to block the advance of these imperial soldiers.
In addition to him, there were also self-immolators who gritted their teeth and voluntarily sacrificed themselves to stay behind to cover the retreat.
Under their cover, the self-immolators finally had a chance to catch their breath and quickly evacuated towards a ship.
They paid a heavy price, but as long as they could leave, it was a success.
It’s a pity that things don’t always go as planned.
"Lord of the brilliant stars, guardian of the boundless starry sky..."
A low murmur was heard.
A dark cloud suddenly appeared in the sky.
Then, a huge meteorite appeared with flames, and its huge force directly destroyed one of the retreating ships and even killed several self-immolators.
"Although I don't know how long your meaningless struggle will continue."
"But since you're here, no one should leave."
With a sneer, a believer wearing the robe of the Midnight Church emerged from the bright starlight with a mark in his hand, cutting off their retreat.
When the leader of the self-immolators saw this, his mood suddenly sank to the bottom.
However, just as he was about to grit his teeth and fight to the death, an accident happened.
"You have no say."
A calm voice suddenly sounded in the ear of the Midnight believer, causing his pupils to shrink. He looked around in horror, trying to find the source of the voice.
Then, he was horrified to find that his body was turning into tiny specks of dust, quickly disappearing from his feet to his head.
"No… "
Before the shrill scream could even be fully uttered, this Midnight believer completely disappeared.
The leader of the self-immolators looked at this scene in astonishment.
But he soon realized that now was not the time to dwell on these things, and hurriedly turned around to organize his companions to retreat.
"Roar-"
"You... damn bastards!"
"One day, you will all go to hell!"
The man named Brian let out one last roar before his wounded body finally couldn't hold on any longer and exploded into pieces with a bang.
The self-immolators successfully retreated.
Compared with many painful failures, such a tragic success can even be considered relatively good.
Chateauroux leaned against the railing, took off the mask on his face, and let out a heavy breath.
Looking at the blue sea, his heart was full of confusion.
He couldn't understand why the world was so cruel.
The church and the nobility bullied others at will, treating and slaughtering people like livestock, and there was no retribution at all.
If such a world collapses, maybe it wouldn't be a bad thing...
He looked up at the crack in the sky and thought to himself.
"The oppression of the gods will come to an end."
"Are you interested in adding fuel to this blaze?"
The low voice fell into Chateauroux's ears.
He turned his head suddenly, only to see a man who had appeared beside him at some point, looking at him calmly.
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(End of this chapter)