The more they object, the more it means I did the right thing

Chapter 17 My name is Xianzong, and I like to offer sacrifices the most



Wellington was twelve years old and the son of a carpenter.

He has no mother. His mother died in childbirth. At the same time, he was not blessed by the Holy Light.

There is only a very rare light element in his body.

Most of the body is occupied by darkness. Although the concentration is far from that of Ansu, the one-in-a-thousand 'cursed son', it is also called the son of darkness.

Unlike Ansu, little Wellington's childhood was not as lucky as the former's. Although the dark element in the latter's body is far less dense than Ansu's.

His father blamed him for his mother's death and kicked him out of the house when he was six years old.

Little Wellington couldn't find a job. No restaurant or daily necessities store was willing to hire a son of darkness.

Wellington made a living by begging and suffered discrimination and abuse - this was also the childhood of many children of the curse.

Although it was very difficult, I slowly managed to survive in this city.

As usual, before the morning dew had soaked through the whole morning, he got up, took his tattered small bowl, crawled out of the dark and damp sewer, and went to the morning market to beg for today's three meals.

If they arrive late and the urban management gets up, they will be kicked out.

If he was lucky, he might be able to pick up one or two dead rotten fish, which together with the collected mushrooms would be enough for him to eat for a day.

Wellington's wish was to taste the cake. His grandmother said that children who can taste cake are children who are loved by God, are blessed children, and can enter heaven after death.

It's a pity that his grandma is dead and he didn't get to taste the cake.

He will be thirteen years old this year and makes a living by begging. He has lived in this city for thirteen years until today.

The uncle didn't look like a city manager. He was wearing a hood and his face couldn't be seen clearly. He told Wellington that if he followed his uncle, he would have his cake and eat it too.

Wellington followed him.

But I didn't taste the cake.

Wellington was put in a sack and driven into a carriage.

He shouted loudly, knowing that maybe some passers-by heard his voice, but who would care? Who would care that a little beggar, a child of darkness, was kidnapped?

Without them, the city would be cleaner.

People are kidnapped every day in this city, and people disappear every day.

Even the saints of the Holy See would not care if a beggar was kidnapped.

What they want is to eradicate the secret sect's dens and gain the goddess's faith points.

The more frequent the kidnappings, the easier it is for the secret cult's hideouts to be exposed.

Wellington didn't know how far he had traveled. He might have left the city and arrived in a deserted wilderness. He could feel that it was getting dark and the surroundings were eerily quiet.

After the blindfold was removed, Wellington saw an altar.

The altar was filled with white skulls, and the bright torches poured blood-like light everywhere. Men wearing golden masks surrounded the altar, chanting something loudly.

The uncle who drove the carriage escorted him to the altar.

"Any last words?"

Little Wellington didn't know what would happen next. He had no idea about sacrifice, but he knew that he was about to face death, and unparalleled fear came to his mind.

"I haven't eaten cake yet," he murmured, "I haven't eaten cake yet."

He hasn't eaten the cake yet, and he won't be able to go to heaven when he dies.

Wellington was not afraid of death, but he knew that his grandmother had been a good person throughout his life, so good people would definitely go to heaven.

But he is the son of a curse, he is not a good person, he has never eaten cake, he is not blessed by the Holy Light, and he cannot enter heaven.

Then I can't reunite with grandma.

Grandma has been waiting for him in heaven for six years,

In the past six years, he has been trying to save money and survive. He wants to buy a cake and try it. After eating it, he can go to heaven to find his grandma, so that he can die in peace.

But his money always disappears, maybe taken away by the city management, maybe by a thief.

He hasn't eaten the cake yet and he's going to die.

He was about to miss his date with his grandma - this was what little Wellington feared most.

After hearing what Little Wellington said, the priest smiled contemptuously and said,

"It's boring. Mother Goddess won't like it. You'd better cry, then Mother Goddess will be happy."

Wellington's shoulders trembled and he closed his eyes.

The priest was about to prepare for the ceremony when he suddenly heard a loud noise coming from outside.

He suddenly felt something bad. Could it be that the location of the stronghold had been exposed.

But when he saw one of his followers running over, he said to the priest with a strange look on his face, "It's just a young man. There's no one else around him."

"A young man?" The priest's eyes widened.

"Yes." The believer paused and said with a strange expression, "He said he wanted to come to our silver party."

"Moreover, I can feel that the dark element in him is not low."

The priest soon saw the young man:

He was escorted in by several esoteric cultists. He was wrapped in a heavy cotton coat and gray trousers. He was quite bulky and had a cold-proof hood on his head. He had a very intelligent face and revealed a few secrets. Clear and intelligent eyes.

"Just give me a ride."

He looked very shy and polite. As soon as he entered the door, he rubbed his hands and showed a flattering smile, "One is a gift, two is a gift."

What kind of heroic attire is this?

The priest almost laughed in anger.

This kid thinks this is fun and exciting, right?

"What's your name?" asked the priest.

"Well, I like to offer sacrifices. I think it's very interesting. My dream is to be the pope of the Holy See when I grow up."

The boy thought for a while and said, "Just call me Xianzong."

Xianzong?

What a crazy name.

The priest felt that the child was making a fool of himself.

He immediately became angry, "Okay, Xianzong, come here."

After so many years of doing this job, this was the first time he saw someone come to the door to be sacrificed!

You have no respect for your profession at all!

No matter if there is something fishy about him,

If I don’t sacrifice this little boy today, then he has lived in vain for so many years!

He asked his men to prepare materials and drove him next to Wellington.

Wellington stared at the newcomer, "Are you also a child of darkness? Have you ever eaten cake?"

"Cake?" The man was stunned.

"Because we are sinners," Wellington said. "Only by eating cake can we go to heaven."

"Have you ever stolen anything?" the man asked.

"No."

"Have you ever robbed money?"

"nor."

"Then why do you think you're a sinner?"

"Because... they said we were guilty."

"I don't think we're guilty,"

Xianzong turned around, his eyes hidden under his hood, reflecting the bright light.

"Child, you are not guilty. They are the ones who are guilty. You should live more confidently."

He said softly,

"Now close your eyes and cover your ears, Enya, use secret magic to block his five senses - count sixty seconds in your mind, yes, that's it. After leaving here, you go to Morning Star Manor to find the deacon to get a piece of cake. Know they will give it to you.”

"Yes, just close your eyes and cover your ears. Be obedient and don't open your eyes."

——"I have come to sacrifice their sins."

For some reason, Wellington chose to believe him. He closed his eyes, covered his ears, and counted down silently in his heart.

"one."

"two."

"three."

"."

Wellington didn't know what was going on around him. He faintly heard the boy's low voice, but he couldn't hear what was specifically said.

It was eerily quiet.

Wellington finally counted sixty and opened his eyes.

I found that everything around me had disappeared.

Those terrible men disappeared without a trace, and the cold moonlight shone on the altar, like layers of silver frost.

The big brother next to him also disappeared, replaced by a small bag of coins.

The sharp jacket, the handsome cotton trousers, and the plain and simple face that revealed a vague clarity of wisdom were all deeply imprinted in little Wellington's mind, as clear as fireflies in the dark night.

"Brother Xianzong?"

A dream quietly sprouted from the heart of a young man.

Thanks to my good brother Xixi for your recommendation and help. Xixi’s book was really popular in Nagada before us.


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