I, the wizard, the foolish Buddha

As the most remarkable witch doctor in these parts, Old John was very brave.

Ordinary villagers would only sneak into the fields near the town in the autumn to steal some wheat straw, but no one dared to enter the town recklessly.

After all, this town had long been reduced to ruins, with nothing of value left. Even if they came to steal straw, the straw would have grown in the fields, not appeared out of thin air in the town, right?

In addition, this abandoned town was very eerie, with dangerous buildings everywhere. Therefore, Old John was the only one who dared to wander around in this abandoned town.

But he hadn't dared to enter the church for a long, long time, because this dilapidated church was about to collapse.

Moreover, this church was a bit strange. Every time he came in, he would vaguely hear someone calling his name.

So he hadn't dared to come for a long time.

Today, as soon as he entered, he was frightened, almost pissing himself.

Inside the church, scattered all over the place, were various messy benches, covered and plastered with various incantations.

Hundreds of large and small rune chains crisscrossed the main hall.

At first glance, it was clear that the angel masters were suppressing evil demons here!

When he entered, Old John felt that there must be something strange here.

But just now, when he and young Master Roland examined the place, they found nothing. It was eerily silent.

Taking a step, you could hear the echoes of footsteps coming from afar.

As a result, young Master Roland said there was someone here.

Then he ran to the mirror and asked it what his name was.

"Roland!"

Old John shouted loudly, and young Master Roland looked over here and then made a gesture.

Seeing that gesture, Old John breathed a sigh of relief.

This was a pre-arranged code between the two. Once they found someone acting a little strange, suspecting that they had lost their name, they would immediately call out the other person's name.

As long as the person being called reached out and caught the name, and then shouted their own name in their heart, the name would return.

Old John was now very concerned about Roland's mental state.

From time to time, some villagers would stray into this place in the thick fog and go crazy after returning.

He asked with concern, "Master, are you alright?"

Roland waved his hand and said, "I'm fine."

With that, he put his hands behind his back and slowly strolled to the statue in the empty hall.

He suddenly turned around and looked at the messy chairs below, the curtains covered in red incantations, and the chains engraved with runes.

He said, "I am the lord sent by your god, His holy knight."

"Ah? Death Knight? Shepherd?"

He suddenly paused, then laughed loudly. He suddenly pointed to the mirror in the center of the dilapidated church and said, "Good eyesight!"

He asked again, "Your name is Roland, right?"

"Huh? Why don't you call me Roland anymore?"

"Heh heh, it doesn't matter."

He ignored the mirror and looked at the air below the stage again.

He said, "It doesn't matter. If any of you believe in Heraka, that would be great."

Old John was dumbfounded.

Heraka... wasn't that the evil god worshiped by the Twilight Cultists?

"Whether you call me lord or shepherd, from today onwards, you must remember one thing—I am the lord appointed by your god, your shepherd. You are all my sheep, and my words are divine decrees."

In this empty hall, Lord Roland began his inaugural speech.

The wind whistled through the dilapidated stained-glass windows and poured into the hall.

In this deathly silent church, the sound of the wind and Roland's speech echoed endlessly.

The lord was giving a passionate speech, but the audience was dilapidated and empty.

The only person there, Old John, had already pissed all over the floor.

[Roland's Mysterious Operation +1]

At this moment, the door behind Old John was opened.

The merchant walked in with a few mercenaries, smiling. "We were worried about you two, so we came to check."

Suffering!

Old John cried out in his heart. Just as Lord Roland was going crazy, this group of people came in.

How could such a good person suddenly go crazy?

Could it be... that young Master Roland was deliberately using this method to lure this group of powerful enemies in?

These slave traders had obviously been watching the show outside for a long time.

Roland was still lecturing the broken items, the incantation curtains, and the chains below the stage.

He said, "I don't care if you are from this territory or not, but I have no people here, and I need people, especially this church, which needs to be maintained and renovated.

I will write a letter to the surrounding lords, telling them to release people.

Anyone willing to settle here will receive twenty silver deer as a settlement fee."

Hearing this, Old John was completely beside himself.

The burly merchant said with a smile, "Our Lord Roland is very rich."

Suffering! Suffering!

Old John prayed that young Master Roland didn't have much money in his pocket, otherwise, even if he was a lord, these desperadoes would probably do this head-hanging business.

With a rustling sound, young Master Roland took out handful after handful of silver coins from the bag.

The glittering silver deer, with their pleasant sound, scattered from the sunlight into the dilapidated church.

Then, they collided with the messy debris, creating an even more pleasant sound.

The slave traders' eyes widened.

How could such a small bag hold so much money?!

After watching for a while, everyone understood everything.

The slave traders said in shock, "A treasure bag! It's the legendary treasure bag filled with endless wealth!"

They trembled all over, exchanged glances, and then drew out their daggers, knives, and small axes.

Two people held Old John down.

Looking at the cold light of the dagger, Old John let out a fart with shit in it.

The two men grinned ferociously, "Don't worry, we won't kill you. We still need you to lead the way, right?"

The two men held Old John down and tied him up, while the others, with red eyes, walked towards Roland.

A silver coin rolled to the feet of the merchant leader. He bent down, picked it up, bit it with his teeth, and a greedy look appeared in his eyes.

It's real! Real silver coins!

Behind him, there was a sound of a pew being moved.

The merchant leader looked back and saw that his men were greedily picking up money, accidentally bumping into a pew. He couldn't help but curse, "Idiots! Stop picking it up, hurry up!"

He was afraid that he couldn't deal with that madman alone.

As soon as he finished speaking, there was another rustling sound of movement all around.

Everyone looked up and found that several dilapidated pews in the distance seemed to have been bumped into by something and were inexplicably moving to the side.

Suddenly, in the drafty, empty hall, the pews throughout the entire hall began to move in a chaotic manner. The dense noise of the pews moving echoed throughout the silent hall.

In this empty hall, it was as if thousands of people were scrambling for the silver coins, accidentally knocking over one pew after another.

Whoosh ~ The door was suddenly blown open by a gust of wind!

The curtains covered with incantations rustled in the wind, and the person on the altar, in a frenzy of laughter, frantically scattered silver coins. The pews under the altar were overturned in pieces.

"Come on, come on! Come and share the money!"

In this dilapidated hall, countless 'people' were scrambling for the money!

"Money, the money is gone, the money is gone!"

One of the slave traders fell to the ground. He pointed in horror at the silver coins scattered in the air, and found that many of the silver coins disappeared into thin air before they even hit the ground.

The remaining silver coins only rolled on the ground for two or three seconds before disappearing.

One of the slave traders looked in horror at the door that kept opening and closing in the wind, and suddenly realized a problem.

The 'people' nearby had all rushed in to grab the money!

"Something's wrong, something's wrong here! Boss, let's go, let's go! Look at those incantations and chains!"

The slave traders finally remembered the dilapidated curtains covered with red incantations and the rusty chains.

He shook his boss hard, but found that his boss's body was extremely light.

He looked down and dropped the lifelike 'person' in horror.

It looked exactly like his boss, but the nose and eyes were all painted on!

It was an extremely exquisite scarecrow!

It was wearing the boss's clothes, and rough lines outlined its facial features.

Its hands were still moving, slowly twisting in a strange way.

When those five fingers were broken off one by one, a silver coin fell down and then disappeared into the air.

The slave trader suddenly felt some moisture on his hands, as if an invisible red pen was drawing a bloody pattern on his palm.

He looked at his palm and then at the scarecrow at his feet, seeing that a pattern of bloodstains was 'flowing' on the scarecrow's chest.

The picture had already been drawn all over the ground.

Looking closely, a handful of straw was stuck in the scarecrow's chest, piercing diagonally from its abdomen into the heart in its chest cavity.

That silver coin and that handful of grass had killed him!

The chaotic hall suddenly fell silent.

The madman on the altar put away the money bag and glanced disdainfully at the mirror below.

He looked up and down at his reflection in the mirror.

He said to himself:

"Are you worthy?"

"Twenty silver deer? Are you worth that much money?"

"Heh heh, that's right, I promised. And I have plenty of money!"

"But what have you done?"

"Why should you get something for nothing?!"

He strode down the steps, the surrounding jumble of chairs scattering to make way for him.

He said to the air behind him:

"Who knows the appearance of Mother Heraca?"

"Formless?"

"Bullshit! The gods of this world are all transformed from people, they all have form!"

"What? Originally a god? So, inherently formless?"

"Think! Then think for me!"

The madman pointed to the statue in the church, saying, "Imagine the human form of Mother Heraca for me!"

He looked at himself in the mirror again: "What are you waiting for? Get moving!"

A gust of wind carrying sleet blew into the church.

The rustling sleet and snow, in the strong wind, rushed towards the 'Statue of the Pale Moon Goddess', covering the statue with layers of ice and snow.

Gradually, a lifelike 'sculpture' appeared on the altar.

It was also a scarecrow.

But it had complete facial features.

It was sacred and solemn, compassionate and merciful, like a female Bodhisattva, sitting upright on the altar.

It had six arms, each as long as a leg.

This disproportionate length made it seem like it had eight legs.

These eight legs embraced forward, seemingly embracing the lost souls, giving them a warm embrace.

It had a huge halo behind it.

The halo spread out on the walls in a radial pattern, gradually becoming larger than its entire body, slowly occupying most of the wall behind it.

Subsequently, many regular stripes slowly appeared on the sacred halo.

Suddenly, the few surviving slave traders, Old John, and others, felt their scalps tingle and recognized what the halo was.

What was covering the wall was not a sacred halo!

It was a spider web!

A giant spider web!

The sacred goddess was stuck on that spider web, ferociously stretching out its eight 'long legs' with fingers towards the front.

And on its sacred face, there were twelve pairs of scarlet eyes.

This was not a benevolent god who controlled the order of the River Styx! This was an evil god!

Lord Roland wanted a human form.

Therefore, Mother Heraca's eight legs had fingers.

The five fingers on each hand were initially clenched into fists. However, as a 'slightly bewildered' majestic gaze swept over here from the distant horizon for a long time, some fingers stood up from the fists.

These hand gestures represent various mudras in theology, five of which symbolize 'illumination', 'blessing', 'guidance', 'death', and 'reincarnation'.

The other three hand gestures were very strange. The thumb, index finger, and little finger were raised separately.

In folk customs, this gesture has the meaning of 'approval'.

It also represents a number: 6.

Replacing a statue of the White Queen, who guards the Eastern Territory, with a statue of an evil god that everyone avoids is indeed a 6 move.

However, three 6s added together... this is the number of the devil!

It is unknown what Mother Heraca meant today, but she did glance over here.

And after seeing Roland's mysterious operation in the hall today, she seemed to be slightly stunned for a moment.

Then she corrected the 'mistake of that sculptor', turning the five fists into five mudras. And made the other three hands show three sixes.

Lord Roland did not notice the changes in the statue behind him.

He still thought there was someone in the hall and continued to talk eloquently with his back to the statue.

He finally declared to the empty hall:

"From now on, this is the City God Temple of Straw Town!"

"And I am your King Yama!"

Old John burst into tears and wailed, kneeling on the ground and shouting, "Lord Roland, please don't go crazy, please turn around and look, Mother Heraca is giving you 666!"

[Mother Heraca's 666+1]

[Straw Hall. Title of King Yama + 1]

[Peerage Rank: Prince]

[Fief Location: 'Styx. Kaoshantun Fork River Mouth']

[Total Area: Two Mu of Land.]

I'll revise the next chapter again and post it tomorrow. Please give me monthly tickets and recommendation tickets.