As the sun set, the evening glow faded away.
That night.
York began to address the tasks he had planned.
But then he discovered something very strange.
He noticed that the number of people at the Pluto Church was not decreasing as expected.
Instead, after a slow decrease, the numbers started increasing steadily.
As if on cue, cars began to appear outside.
Some people even entered the church cautiously, timidly greeted him, and then found a seat on the pews.
York momentarily ignored the people inside the church, assuming they rarely prayed and would stay longer since he wasn't planning to close the church for the day.
But when he saw through a 3D image that people outside were setting up camp-like equipment, York was indeed baffled.
"Are they here specifically to camp?"
He saw Mirta communicating with some people, nodding repeatedly, unsure of what they were discussing, then called Mirta in for a conversation.
The explanation he received was somewhat helpless but understandable.
"You're saying they feel safe here? That they can sleep peacefully?"
York looked at Mirta, recalling her words, unsure of what to feel.
But seeing the church filled with candlelight and people, combined with Mirta's explanation, he could imagine how the world was surviving.
Not quite living day by day, but certainly in constant fear.
"Yes, Father York." Mirta looked at the priest who brought an indescribable sense of safety just by being present, and spoke earnestly.
"They also said that after meeting you, they found a place that calms their hearts, and they don't want to leave, so..."
At this, York chuckled wryly, looking at the silently praying congregation and the people outside setting up camp.
It seemed he could feel it too.
"It looks like they are happy, alright then, you go on with your duties."
York shook his head, dismissing Mirta.
"Yes, Father York."
Mirta bowed slightly and then continued towards the outside.
Along the way, Mirta responded to the nods of the churchgoers.
It was a very harmonious atmosphere.
"So my presence can still bring about this change, let them be, as long as they are happy. After all, the church also has a duty to provide refuge."
York sighed to himself, sitting in his usual spot, letting the congregation occasionally steal glances at him as he began to manipulate the dense faith energy visible before him.
Of course, he also had to start with the first step.
That was to consecrate the image of Jesus in front of him, imbuing it with the function to convert.
Just as he had consecrated the Bluetooth speaker and the mobile phone, enabling them to function accordingly.
Now, he only needed to consecrate the Jesus image for it to convert on a one-to-one ratio.
This was a significant authority.
In the real world, churches are consecrated by the headquarters before they can have this function.
So when he discovered and mastered the skill of consecration, he found it somewhat dangerous and chose to conceal it from the church.
Because possessing this skill meant that even if he left the church, he could still use it to form his own sect, even compete with the church for followers, and possibly cause the unified church to split.
However, in the end, he couldn't keep it hidden, and the outcome was different from what he had expected.
Of course, the church only knew about his power superficially, not knowing the extent of his consecration abilities.
"Probably need about ten points of holy power..."
Based on the feedback and sensations, York remained still, his power flowing continuously toward the Jesus image on the high platform.
From the base under his feet, through the cross, to the image of Jesus.
Spreading from end to end.
So much so that the entire high platform began to emit a subtle glow.
And it was after consuming exactly ten points of holy power that York saw the result.
[10 points of holy power consecrated]
Hearing the prompt by his ear, York stopped the transfer of consecration and watched as the faith energy that had spread throughout the church began to gather under the base of the Jesus image.
"Success."
Seeing this, York finally breathed a sigh of relief.
If it hadn't been successful, then all the things he wanted to do would have been in vain, and he would have even had to sacrifice.
Now, with holy power in the church, he could continuously produce a batch of genuine clergy.
"I wonder if this church's capacity can support double digits."
York didn't hesitate, ready to call Mirta back in and baptize her, making her a true clergy member, capable of dealing with demons or corrupted beings without being powerless.
At that moment, an unexpected change occurred.
Along with the prompt, a virtual window suddenly appeared in front of him.
"What's this?"
Staring at the sudden window, York was stunned.
The window displayed not a random task or his personal data but
all the information about Pluto Church.
[Pluto Church]
[Level One Church]
[Holy Power Accumulated: 93 points]
[Number of Followers: 1359]
[...]
Simultaneously, York felt the information from the window embedding itself in his mind, available for his recall at will.
Looking at the dense information on the window, York stopped getting up.
There was a lot.
All the data for Pluto Church.
It even assigned a level to Pluto Church.
"Level One Church…"
York looked at the related description,
"Level one can support the supply configured for one priest, level two can support three priests, level three can support five priests…"
He read through quickly, unconsciously licking his dry lips, unsure of his own status.
The grading system was very standardized; each church level increase added two slots, until level twelve, which directly supports a bishop's configuration.
And the criteria for leveling were based on the number of followers: one thousand followers for level one, two thousand for level two, continuing in this ratio.
Since there were levels, then naturally, the holy power a church could accumulate was limited.
Level one could accumulate one hundred points of holy power.
Level two could accumulate two hundred points.
And so on, extending upwards until level twelve, which could accumulate twelve hundred points of holy power.
Most importantly, according to the information fed back through this window, and added to his own feelings.
He seemed to control all of this, like arbitrarily withdrawing the church's holy power, even controlling and withdrawing the power within a priest, turning him back into an ordinary person.
Because he was the creator of all this, the source of all…
"No way…"
York murmured, "That seems a bit exaggerated."
Staring at the virtual window in front of him, York couldn't calm his mind for a long time.
He knew what this meant and how significant the benefits could be.
It meant he could become the master of this world, replacing God's authority from the moment he personally created a church.
"Shh!"
Thinking of something, York couldn't help but pinch his knee.
He thought, if he created countless churches in this world, then in times of crisis, could he instantly withdraw the holy power stored in all these churches for his own attack?
"This is completely a trump card, a big move!"
"Struck gold!"
York gasped, pinching his knee hard, suppressing his emotions, but a rare hint of excitement still appeared on his face.
"Didn't expect, coming to this other world, to have this change,
With this, who the hell cares about triggering random tasks,
Churches! Churches! Make a big deal!"
York suddenly felt a strong surge of motivation.
He looked at the virtual window in front of him, making a decision in his mind.
"Create hundreds of churches here, thousands of churches! Tens of thousands of churches…"
He didn't know how long it had been, but by the time York had roughly figured out this function, he called Mirta back over.
By this time, it was almost ten o'clock in the evening.
And the followers of Pluto Church were still not decreasing.
Indeed, from now on, York had begun to refer to these townspeople still in the church and camping outside as followers.
From the data of Pluto Church, the number of over a thousand followers clearly included these people.
This made York view these followers as if they were treasures, letting them continue to stay, sleep, even if it was for a lifetime.
After all, the number of followers affected the church's level; the more followers, the higher the level of the church, and the more holy power it could accumulate.
A church without followers was merely an ordinary building, akin to a castle in the air.
"Father York." Mirta arrived, standing beside the priest, not daring to sit down.
"Kneel!"
York commanded calmly, causing Mirta's eyes to widen, her heart barely containing her excitement.
"Now, you will become a true clergy member."
Mirta took a deep breath, with the surprised followers behind her slowly kneeling in front of York.
York picked up the Bible beside him, stood up, and placed his hand on Mirta's head, speaking gently.
"Mirta, are you ready."
"Ready to dedicate yourself to this world, to the followers…"
As his voice fell, the followers behind him widened their eyes, standing up from the pews to witness the scene before them.
They felt they were about to become part of witnessing history, witnessing the beginning of change.
Mirta's face was resolute as she spoke loudly:
"Father York, I am ready, with no regrets even in death."
York smiled, holding the Bible in one hand and resting the other on Mirta's head, speaking gently.
"Good."
As these words fell, his power surged again, and York began to withdraw the accumulated holy power from Pluto Church to consecrate Mirta.
Watching as a halo of holy light envelop
ed Mirta, watching as her body was baptized,
As the followers stood solemnly witnessing, York recited phrase after phrase:
"Mirta! You will become a servant of God, dedicated to His mission, becoming a spiritual guide for the followers, leading them towards the path of light and truth.
You will spread the power of love and kindness, giving people strength and courage, becoming a beacon for the followers, guiding them to find true happiness and peace in the darkness.
You will also face many challenges and responsibilities. You need to maintain humility and courage at all times, respond to the followers' needs and confusions with wisdom and compassion, becoming their confidant and comforter, supporting them in their pain and difficulties.
No matter where you are, no matter what difficulties you encounter, you must hold fast to your faith, move forward courageously. Believe that God will grant you strength and wisdom, helping you overcome all difficulties, fulfilling your mission…"
As his words ceased, the shift in history began from this moment.
The night passed.
Because of last night's witness, word spread rapidly, and many followers who slept inside and outside the church were too excited to sleep.
At the crack of dawn.
York watched one after another with panda eyes yet spirited followers politely greet him.
"Father York."
York nodded in response, among their devout gazes, slipping into the church.
"Father York."
Mirta appeared before him, bowing.
After the baptism, her body began to accumulate holy power, making her seem even more sacred, even appearing younger than last night.
This was the benefit of the holy power baptism, more longevity than ordinary people, and physical qualities that would surpass normal humans over days of consecration.
"Hmm."
York nodded.
"Start preparing for the mass, Mirta."
"Yes!"
Mirta nodded, leaving the spot.
York watched as Mirta, looking more and more like the young nun Eileen, felt a tinge of regret.
Because it was regrettable that Mirta's abilities had a limit.
Even after being baptized as a true clergy member and using holy power, she only had about twenty to thirty points of holy power.
Although through reading the scriptures and the amplification of the Bible, these twenty to thirty points could exert the effect of a hundred points of holy power, and she could draw on the church's stored holy power when inside the church,
But for him, for the current situation, it was still too weak.
Of course. It might also be because Mirta was just a deaconess, not a priest, so her limit was indeed not high.
"Hope the upcoming Purifiers produce some tough ones, I need to push back the No Man's Land forbidden zones, creating churches…"
Thinking this, York instinctively beckoned, and the church's stored holy power instantly merged into his body, freely usable, even combinable with the amplification of magic power.
"Heh, not a bad feeling, if I could create hundreds of churches, using the power stored in hundreds of churches, I must let the demons in the forbidden zones experience what is called the illumination of the holy light."
After experiencing it for a while, he casually dispersed it again, York, with his hands behind his back, walked down the central aisle towards his usual spot.
He hadn't forgotten the daily tasks.
Brothers and sisters, it's the end of the month, may I ask for your votes? If you don't have any book in mind, please consider giving them to your little brother here, my data is too poor…
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Chapter 294: A Thousand Points of Light
"It's a novel experience."
As Mirta and the elderly woman were talking, unbeknownst to them, an invisible figure above them was experiencing the sensation of divine descent, patting around as if physically present.
"It feels tangible, indescribably so."
York squinted his eyes, feeling his thoughts unaffected.
It was as if a computer could run two processes simultaneously, with his consciousness guiding both his actions in the town and his remote control from the church.
"Since that's the case, let's give it a try."
York, hovering above, focused on the elderly woman's home, his gaze seemingly penetrating the house to rest on a man inside.
"Wesley..."
At this moment, Wesley, whose swelling had spread to his chest, looked outwardly normal but had become a host for a demon.
"Let's start with you."
As Wesley seemed to sense his presence and looked up, York extended his hand downward towards the house.
Simultaneously, the two hundred points of holy power stored in Pluto Church began to rapidly deplete.
Dropping swiftly by one hundred fifty points.
"It doesn't seem too difficult."
York muttered, directing his will as a pure, immaculate light emanated from his hand, instantly expanding to encompass the entire house below.
"Purify."
With that command, a robust holy force pressed down amidst Wesley's screams.
The demon seed inside him, trying to break free, formed a translucent shape in the air, opening a massive maw towards the sky.
But the power disparity was too great.
Without the demon's true body present, it had little strength and was promptly purified by the relentless holy power, turning Wesley's inner demon seed to ash...
Outside the house, Mirta seemed to sense something and looked up, having just heard Father York's voice.
Then, she widened her eyes, feeling the recent commotion as someone who had been baptized and could sense the holy power.
Ripples emanated from the house, spreading in all directions.
"Father has acted."
Mirta realized only those who wield such power could understand how formidable Father York truly was.
Just as she was processing this, Father York's voice echoed in her mind.
"It's done, Mirta. Go check on him and call a doctor. The young man is lucky; he can survive with treatment."
Hearing this voice, Mirta bowed slightly, under Sandra's gaze, and respectfully responded to the void:
"Yes, Father."
"What happened, Sister Mirta?" Sandra felt an unexplainable stir in her heart.
Mirta exhaled, feeling a wave of relief wash over her.
"Lady Sandra, Father York has just purified this place."
"And..." Sandra's heart tightened: "My son?"
Mirta smiled: "Your son is fine. He just needs one thing."
After calling the town's doctor in front of Sandra, they entered the house together.
The room was still filled with lingering holy power, and Wesley, swollen and immobile, opened his clear eyes to greet his excited mother.
"Mama."
...
"It feels pretty good, like playing with a toy."
York, feeling as if he was closing a drawer, dispelled the divine descent at Mirta's location.
"It just costs a bit of my own holy power."
Hearing the prompt and feeling a minor depletion in his power, York was unconcerned.
A point of power could be recovered in a minute, allowing him to perform divine descent over two hundred times. With controlled timing, it was practically limitless.
As the consumed holy power was restored after a minute, York pondered his next move.
Hearing another prayer, he pinpointed its origin as some followers couldn't wait until night to use the holy water.
Consuming another point of holy power, York arrived at a villa, more luxurious than Sandra's home, but sensed no demonic presence.
Still, he preemptively used the church's stored holy power for protection, essentially returning the follower's faith.
Back in the church, York sat on the pew, controlling everything within the town from afar.
Hearing the prayers in his mind, he "opened drawers" to their locations.
After sweeping through numerous homes, the church's stored faith was slowly converted into holy power for his use, effortlessly on York's part.
Every experience made York more adept at this god-like ability, hardly taxing him.
"Feels like I've visited the entire town..." Ending another divine descent, York shook his head.
Creating a detailed map of the town in his mind, he knew every building and resident.
As evening approached and Mirta returned, the sky darkened.
"Father, Wesley's condition has stabilized," Mirta reported with utmost respect.
"That's good."
York nodded, leading her out to the courtyard where camped followers greeted them.
Seeing lights ignite across the town, York pointed to a resilient gleam on the horizon, "Look, Mirta, there's light."
"Really?"
Mirta, following his gaze, was hesitant.
"Yes," York reassured, "The darkness lurking in Amaral has been banished."
Remembering the divine protections he'd set, which not only served as radar but also as a barrier, he mused, "If demons can penetrate this, I might as well be dead."
Sensing that the situation had unfolded as expected, York knew that dispelling fears of demons and attributing changes to his intervention would strengthen and solidify faith.
He kept these thoughts from Mirta.
In the town, villa lights blazed more brilliantly than ever, stirring neighbors.
"Hey, Joachim!"
Relaxed, Joachim responded to his neighbor Kenneth.
"You turned on the lights!"
"I'm not crazy," Joachim shrugged, casually glancing around and adding with a smile, "Look around, Kenneth. It's not just me; many are taking a chance."
Seeing the pervasive light, Kenneth was moved, "The town looks pretty good."
As lights continued to spread, forming a radiant spectacle, even the desolate Amaral seemed to come alive.
At the police station, officers, including Chief Lak and Ryan, celebrated with laughter and tears.
"So many years... I thought I had forgotten this sight."
"We might as well face death awake and aware!" Joachim declared, holding Mary's hand.
As the town lit up, a convoy of Cleansers sped towards Amaral, drawn by the bright beacon of change.
"Let's reach Mirta before dawn," declared Marcus, witnessing the transformation, hopeful for a new beginning.
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