"I am the Holy Father!"
A gust of wind swept across the hill, carrying with it a vast mist.
Despite the sticky rainwater, everyone's hems were still flapping loudly.
After a brief second of calm, just as Horn was about to lose hope thinking it was over, a wailing cry with a sob finally rang out.
"The Holy Father, the Holy Father has manifested!"
Someone shouted this, and like a chain reaction, cries and laments sounded one after another.
It was as if they wanted to pour out all the grievances and fears in their hearts, even forgetting the hunger in their bellies.
"Oh Holy Father, relieve the pain in my belly!"
"Oh Holy Father, have mercy on my sin, I shouldn't have been with my elder sister..."
"So what Jeanne said was true, Miseria really brought down a miracle!"
"Oh Holy Father, forgive me for my unbelief!"
On the grassy clay slope, villagers knelt one after another.
They drew a grass character on their foreheads, prostrated in the pouring rain, kissed the muddy ground, confessed their sins to the "Holy Father", begging for His forgiveness and redemption.
No one noticed, Horn's mouth corner twitched secretly.
Alright, alright, these villagers believed it, they really believed it, hehe, they all believed it, this trick really worked.
Forcing himself to control his mouth corner, Horn did not allow himself to laugh out loud.
He knew well, now was not the time to pop champagne.
Rousing his spirits, Horn looked up, openly sweeping his majestic and awe-inspiring eyes over the crowd present.
Out of the over two hundred villagers on the hill, nearly seventy percent were already kneeling on the ground.
Almost all the migrants had kneeled down, leaving only a small part of the Public Register Farmers and Armed Farmers still hesitating.
This number was almost enough, he could proceed to the next step of the plan.
At a glance, everyone was shouting prayers and repentance, with some fanatics even directly bleeding to show devotion.
Horn's eyebrows furrowed slightly, these people were really too noisy.
If he spoke now, his voice would probably be drowned by the noise.
He was a bit troubled, he couldn't just shout "Everyone, look at me."
While Horn was contemplating a solution, he heard a loud shout from within the crowd.
Among the many villagers, a one-eyed man stepped out.
He seemed about thirty years old, brown-haired, his face shaped like a horizontal egg, and dandruff and oil had braided his hair into small plaits, hanging from behind his ears.
Horn vaguely remembered he was a leader of nearby migrants, akin to a gang leader.
"Quiet, everyone quiet." The one-eyed man shouted hoarsely, "The Holy Father is about to deliver the gospel, everyone be quiet."
Under the one-eyed man's angry shout, the chaotic sounds gradually vanished, and everyone once again quieted down, focusing their gaze back on Horn.
Looking at the man's one eye, Horn smiled with satisfaction.
Hmm, this guy has tact.
Clearing his throat, Horn still didn't look at the crowd present but rather gazed arrogantly at the sky.
"All who can see me, those on the ground, are blessed!" He said hoarsely, feigning an aged voice, "For as you receive my words, spread my speech, your past sins will vanish like smoke."
Several recently awakened villagers even fainted again from excitement, those kneeling on the ground croaked with suppressed sobs.
Those who hadn't knelt changed their expressions drastically, they didn't have time to doubt, and hurriedly knelt.
If it was fake, it wouldn't harm anything, everyone was deceived.
If it was real, just because they didn't kneel this time, they couldn't ascend Celestial Paradise Mountain, wouldn't it be a big loss?
Even Master Knight, after hesitating for a while, knelt halfway with a stern face.
No matter if it's true or false, the attitude must be sufficient.
If he didn't kneel, regardless of whether the miracle was real, others might report him to the Archbishop for "disrespecting the divine" and "having other intentions", which would spell trouble.
After saying these words, everyone present knelt.
Besides "pilgrimage", Thousand River Valley people were most keen on purchasing indulgences, especially fond of reflection.
This is because the ancestors of the Thousand River Valley People were the blood slaves of the Blood and Flesh Royal Court's Vampire Nobility.
Thus, besides the official designation "Reflanders", Thousand River Valley People had another moniker "The Impure."
They were accused of being inherently sinful.
A Duke's courtier once penned a widely circulated joke that whenever the Church Court couldn't find a criminal, they'd just grab a Thousand River Valley person to take the blame.
Although the intention was to mock the Church Court's inefficiency and corruption, it also revealed the terrible regional racism and discrimination faced by Thousand River Valley people.
Yet now, the merciful Holy Father surprisingly pardoned their sins, what a tremendous gift!
Standing before everyone, Horn's gaze was fixed, arms bent wide, as if cradling the moon, then suddenly retracting, crossing his forearms at his chest in a cross: "Woo-oh-oh-oh—Listen, believers!"
Thunder rumbled in the clouds, and fierce winds blew at Horn's hair.
In the villagers' eyes, even heavens and earth seemed to be cheering for his words.
"The Old Gods are dead, a New King shall arise, the stars align, and blessed be Midgard—"
"I, summon you all, in this era of demons and devils, followers of Miseria, only by uniting, can we sweep away demons and avoid great calamities—"
"Oh oh oh oh oh—"
Rainwater poured into Horn's collar and mouth, the fine rain wasn't enough to prevent him from speaking, but it did affect his voice, making it somewhat sharp and rasping.
The piercing sound, in such an atmosphere, seemed instead mysterious and captivating.
With a small leap in place, Horn once again spread his arms like an albatross.
"Hear me! In these times of calamity, I have sent down Horn, the adopted son of my daughter Miseria, to lead you through the trials!" At this point, Horn's majestic gaze swept over everyone, and no one dared to meet his eyes.
"Do not doubt, with him, all challenges will pass, and after I depart, he shall be my only eye among you!"
"Only by resolutely facing the difficult times together, can you enter Paradise Mountain--Aah, oooh, ooooh--"
The sound echoed between the mountains and the black pine forest, even the sound of the rain seemed to diminish for a moment.
Horn paused, but no one spoke; they all listened reverently to the "sacred teachings."
"I have spoken my piece--"
With a powerful wave of his right arm, Horn took a deep breath, wearing a benevolent expression: "Return to Heaven I go--"
"Ooooh, ooooh, oooh--"
As soon as he finished speaking, Horn immediately shuddered from head to toe, sweeping his arms in large circles in front of his chest as if swimming, convulsing for almost half a minute.
Like shaking off the last drops after urinating, Horn gave two final shudders and ceased all movement.
He waited two seconds, adjusted his mindset, and switched roles before he opened his eyes again.
Like one awakening from a dream, Horn widened his eyes blankly: "This is the mortal realm; I have returned to the mortal realm!"
He first turned around, glancing left and right, seemingly ensuring he was truly back, but actually scouting an escape route.
Once confirmed, Horn lifted his head to ask the gathered crowd: "My spirit just went to meet my mother Miseria; what has happened here?"
No one dared to answer, as all present turned their gaze toward Priest Kosse.
Seeing everyone looking at him, sweat poured more profusely from Priest Kosse's back as he faced an enormous dilemma--
Is this Holy Father's descent real or false?
It's known that the Master Knight and villagers could be duped, as they are "protected" believers.
But you, Priest Kosse, if deceived by a demon and recognize it as divine...
So, are you really in league with a demon?
If it were a properly educated monk with legitimate seminary training, they'd have a thousand ways to verify Horn's identity.
At the very least, casting a "Blessing of Light" on Horn would reveal the truth with a smile or a scream.
But Kosse's priesthood was bought, replacing another monk's credentials and documents.
He genuinely couldn't discern the truth; he was truly uncertain.
With his head in a fog, Kosse stood there stiffly.
Until a young monk beside him secretly nudged his waist, awakening him from his stupor.
"Teacher, it's time to speak."
Using the corner of his eye, Kosse glanced at Barnett, whose eyes glinted coldly, staring intently at him.
Kosse swallowed hard and finally made a decision.
The county magistrate is nearer than the emperor; "disrespecting the divine" is better than "demon worshipper."
Raising his foot, Kosse confidently stepped towards Horn, but the moment his foot fell, he sensed something amiss.
Despite not knowing what he stepped on, it was surely not solid ground.
His left foot, expected to stay put, unexpectedly slipped backward with a squeak, and his other foot was still lifted in mid-air.
Like a penguin slipping, Kosse flailed his arms, trying to catch onto something, yet couldn't stop the ground rapidly approaching his knees.
"Crack!"
With knees striking the ground hard, Priest Kosse nearly fainted from the pain.
Without a second to wallow in the pain, Kosse immediately tried to halt his forward movement.
Otherwise, he'd truly be kneeling to Horn!
However, under the heavy momentum and the slippery grass, his kneeling momentum barely diminished.
His knees plowed through the muddy water, propelling Priest Kosse straight towards Horn.
Propped up on the ground, his face contorted.
Stop, damnit!
Perhaps Kosse's inward prayer worked; he miraculously halted less than a step from Horn.
Thank goodness, there was still room for an explanation.
Supporting himself, Kosse was about to stand.
Perhaps due to the sudden changes in blood pressure from sudden movements, his vision suddenly darkened, and his act of standing became uncontrollable.
The next second, a relieved smile still on his face, Kosse found himself inexplicably nearing Horn's boots.
Thus, in the eyes of all, they witnessed the long-pondering Priest Kosse taking a step forward, then suddenly collapsing to the ground in a gesture of obeisance, like a starving tiger pouncing on prey.
The heavy, clear sound was painful even to watch.
Yet the reverent Priest Kosse appeared unfazed by the pain.
He continued forward with a painful sliding bow, ending precisely at Horn's feet, offering a foot-kissing ritual with a beaming face.
Oh! Such a steadfast belief!
After a brief silence, the gathered villagers once again bowed, but this time they chanted:
"Hail the Holy Grandson!"