But the corruption and Void Monsters are real, the Evil God is real, and the fact that It will awaken and destroy the world is real. The only difference is that the arch-culprit of all this is actually that old scoundrel, the Old Ancestor.
To contend with It, one must have a certain understanding of these matters; sooner or later, they would have to be told.
The heroic story he had constructed would provide them with enough spiritual support, so they wouldn't mentally collapse and flee upon encountering a monster.
The story he had just told was merely a screening process; what came next was the true core.
"Don't be so pessimistic. In fact, my family did leave me some power to combat evil."
Lance focused his attention on a corpse and then reached out to touch it.
[Sacrifice] was activated. The freshly deceased corpse seemed to collapse inward as darkness devoured it, leaving behind only clothes and scattered items.
As the spellcaster, Lance could see points of light emerging from the Void and entering his body.
At that moment, he felt as if his body were a bottle, inside which points of light drifted erratically.
Lance hadn't understood what the [Tribute] mentioned in the Ability description meant until that moment. He finally grasped the changes Sacrifice brought him.
[Tribute]—those points of light—could be understood as experience points or an energy bar.
And [Bless] was the Ability to strengthen the body by consuming [Tribute]—essentially leveling up. It could even strengthen objects.
More importantly, [Bless] wasn't just for strengthening himself; it could be used on others too. This meant that as long as he had enough [Tribute], he could build a powerful army.
Lance keenly sensed that this was the key to establishing his foothold in this world.
Consuming all the [Tribute], the points of light in his body vanished. A warm current seemed to materialize from thin air, flowing within him. The fatigue accumulated from his earlier exertions was swept away, and the anxiety born from exhaustion was dispersed by a continuously surging power.
He could distinctly feel his body growing stronger, but the sensation vanished in an instant. Lance knew he needed more [Tribute].
Dismas and Reynard watched in surprise, the scene unfolding beyond their comprehension.
If it hadn't been for the preemptive warning he'd given them, they would probably have attacked Lance as a monster on the spot.
Noticing their reactions, Lance waited until he had sacrificed the other two corpses before explaining.
"That Evil God is the Flesh God. It corrupts and attracts monsters to make them fight each other. The flesh of every creature that dies in this area provides It with power. Therefore, merely killing enemies isn't enough; their remaining corpses must also be cleansed.
"My family's Old Ancestor, through Divine Revelation, obtained a mysterious and powerful ability. Through long resistance, family members learned to rely on the power of their bloodline to perform ancient rituals left by that same Old Ancestor. These rituals completely purify the enemy's flesh, preventing the Evil God's power from strengthening and breaking free from Its seal."
Of course, I can't say I'm 'sacrificing' the corpses, Lance thought. Describing it as 'purification' is much more acceptable.
In truth, the Old Ancestor was indeed plotting deification using the power of flesh. So, by sacrificing the corpses, Lance was, to some extent, genuinely weakening the Old Ancestor's power.
Fortunately, his earlier story had worked. Although Dismas and Reynard had never witnessed such a bizarre ritual, they chose to believe him.
"There's no need for surprise. There are many wonders in this cursed land. In time, you'll see even more incredible things."
Lance didn't elaborate. He picked up the clothes from the ground and wiped the blood off his long-barreled flintlock gun. Then, he tied the dead strongman's gunpowder bag to his own belt. His scholarly demeanor suddenly gained a ferocious edge.
Returning to the carriage, Lance sacrificed the Gunner's corpse. Feeling the points of light increase within him, he was like a miser watching his gold coins pile up, a sense of profound security washing over him.
However, he didn't immediately use this [Tribute]. Minor strengthening wouldn't be very effective; saving it up was like having an insurance policy.
The scattered boxes mostly contained his predecessor's miscellaneous belongings, of little use to Lance. The truly important item, the inheritance certificate proving his identity, was on his person.
He selected a few items to stuff into his briefcase and tossed the long-barreled flintlock gun to Dismas, the only one among them who could use it effectively.
He then piled the remaining items in the undergrowth of the dense forest. It would be best if they're found later, but it doesn't matter if they're not, he thought.
Decisively, he set everything ablaze, watching the flames consume the carriage emblazoned with his family crest. Lance felt no nostalgia. Carrying his briefcase, he turned and gestured to the two men.
"Let's go! Time to take up my post in Hamlet Town."
They walked along the old road for an unknown distance. Finally, as dawn broke on the horizon, sunlight tore through the heavy clouds, dispersing the darkness from the land. Only then did Lance faintly make out human structures in the distance.
At last, they had arrived.
This journey made Lance understand why games imposed inventory limits. Just carrying these few items for a while had exhausted him. If not for the continuous strengthening from [Bless] that dispelled his fatigue, he might still be dragging his feet.
But this also consumed his already meager [Tribute]. Now, all he wanted was to find that runaway Butler and shoot him.
How dare he steal my horse!
Before they continued, Lance called the two men to a halt. He took out two small leather pouches from his pocket and handed one to each.
Their mission had been to escort him to town for a total payment of one thousand copper coins—five hundred per person. The money had been provided by Lance's teacher, the old professor who had raised him.
According to this world's currency system, 1 Gold Coin = 20 silver coins = 240 copper coins.
One thousand copper coins was equivalent to four Gold Coins and forty copper coins.
It might not seem like much, but in this world of low productivity, currency held significant purchasing power.
In Lance's memory, an ordinary urban craftsman earned about three copper coins for a day's hard work. Only those in more technical positions earned slightly more, perhaps five copper coins daily.
Lance's teacher, a university professor, earned a monthly salary of five Gold Coins, considered a high income even in large cities.
As for Serfs, they might never even see a coin. Exploited by farm owners like Slaves, they were fortunate if they merely avoided starvation.
However, neither man took his pouch, looking at Lance in puzzlement instead.
"Take it. This is your payment for the mission," Lance insisted.
"My Lord, what is the meaning of this?" Dismas asked, somewhat annoyed and feeling insulted. "I swore an oath to you to fight evil!"
"But everyone needs to eat, don't they? And your equipment needs maintenance, right?" Lance said soothingly with a smile. "I can't have you fighting evil with me on empty stomachs and with battered weapons. Since you've chosen to follow me, I must take responsibility for you. This is my duty, and it doesn't conflict with our primary goal."
With that, he stuffed the money pouches into their hands.
This was the crucial time to win their loyalty. Lance couldn't afford to be stingy, as it might breed resentment. It would be truly laughable to hoard wealth now, only to become a dead man guarding it later.
Persuaded by Lance, the two men accepted the payment. Only then did they proceed into Hamlet Town.