Under the threat of slaughter, confronted by the monstrous serpent that had slain the original ancestral spirit of the Flame Giant Bird, the natives cowered and chose submission, offering up their faith.
Vast and chaotic currents of faith, carrying some indescribable filth, surged through the invisible web of belief and poured into
"Faith born from awe…"
As the harvest of faith continued, Leylin's understanding of the path of the gods grew ever deeper.
The divine-mortal covenant was merely the foundation — the power of awe had to be layered upon it as well! Once that power was lost, disloyalty toward the faith was only a matter of time.
And slaughter and death were the finest means of demonstrating that power of awe!
"Still… the faith of natives truly is defective…"
Sensing the enormous taint within it — enough to pollute his divine power and drag his very essence toward corruption — Leylin let out a cold laugh.
"My soul's origin — how could such petty filth ever hope to stain it?"
Hummm!
Dark crimson patterns spread across Leylin's entire body. At the center of his forehead, the Nightmare Eye opened, and it began to purify and absorb this corrupted force as well, converting it into the purest possible essence of Nightmare Energy.
"When it comes to sheer inclusive capacity, Nightmare Energy is by far the most ideal…"
Leylin nodded inwardly at the sight.
With the Warlock's origin soul and the Nightmare Energy Absorption Body, he could take in the faith of these natives without any issue whatsoever.
"Vast but unstable — it will likely need to be slowly digested…"
Through the threads of faith, Leylin could clearly perceive the fear in his followers' hearts, along with a great deal of instability.
After all, this was faith coerced through slaughter and death. That it had already reached this degree right from the start was more than satisfactory.
"They are an alien race after all. Drawing up future policies for them is going to be a headache…"
Leylin's mind immediately recalled the bitter lessons of his previous life. Countless years and cases had proven it time and again — alien races and outsiders were ungrateful wolves that could never be tamed, no matter how generously you treated them. The moment you showed weakness, they would sink their teeth into you all over again!
The only way to deal with them is through relentless slaughter and intimidation. Constant exploitation, even leading to complete extermination, and the absorption of their bloodline into our own.
Anything else is heretical and will easily backfire.
The difference between eating and being eaten is that simple!
If Leylin had been merely a human leader, he would have certainly ordered policies of massacre and extermination.
After all, he was at an absolute disadvantage in numbers; no amount of assimilation would work. Historically, even major races assimilating minor ones faced great difficulties, so what about a smaller force trying to overcome a larger one?
Take the Bald Eagle's policies from his previous world, for example. Without the blood and tears of so many natives, how could there have been the glory of the United States of America?
However, after assuming a divine perspective, Leylin's mindset had changed once more.
The path of a god is the path of transcendence, as if standing outside the game, no longer bound by mortal perspectives.
Conflicts like racial tensions were a mere joke before a god's vast stretches of time.
To speak a cruel truth, as long as the natives could provide him with sufficient faith power, then even if they ruled the entire Primary Material Plane, it would matter little!
Therefore, the current Leylin had transcended narrow racial doctrines in favor of a doctrine of faith. Whoever believed in him more fervently and could provide him with more faith power, he would naturally bestow his glory upon.
To be specific, as long as natives were devout in their faith, they could still be elevated to high positions, even becoming priests, bishops, and finally the Pope!
Leylin couldn't help but recall a famous saying from his previous life: Heaven and Earth are impartial; they treat the ten thousand things as straw dogs.
While there were many interpretations, he understood it as meaning Heaven and Earth were supremely impartial, treating all things in the world equally, all as mere ants and straw dogs.
The gods of the pantheon world also showed a trend of moving toward this level of impartiality.
But true, absolute impartiality—so far, perhaps only the will of each world could claim to approach it.
Focusing on reality, for now, his original pirate crew and the religious sect still held more faith in him. Furthermore, he would need their strength when conquering the Bankes Archipelago later. Thus, his current policies would naturally favor these two groups.
However, it was also essential to timely elevate a few native priests or priestesses to demonstrate his impartiality and inspire the other natives.
Through his divine vision, Leylin focused his gaze directly upon the square.
The slaughter was still ongoing. Not every native would follow the fear in their hearts.
While faith was being forced upon them, a few 'heroic' figures would occasionally emerge—men and women, old and young, the only constant being the unwavering light in their eyes and their unshakeable resolve to die rather than submit.
The pirates dealt with such people in the simplest way possible: a single stroke of the blade to sever the head, letting blood pool across the square until the other natives trembled in terror.
When they happened upon a beautiful native woman, it became an occasion for the male pirates to show off their prowess—even competing with one another to slaughter the unyielding native elders and children for sport.
Even
A revolution in faith was inevitably accompanied by bloodshed. Those who refused to bend even to a surface submission could only be sent to their deaths.
Though their spirits could not be conquered, their bodies could be eliminated. Before civilisation had been enlightened, slaughter might not solve the underlying problem, but it could eliminate the problem itself.
Once the people's awareness had grown, however, this approach would only meet with abandonment.
Unfortunately, in a world of gods—even on the mainland—the slaughter of different races had nothing to do with justice. It was simply a matter of strength and weakness.
"After this round, the overt troublemakers will be gone, but there will surely still be those who submit on the surface while secretly plotting treachery…"
A hint of amusement flickered through Leylin's eyes.
As the saying went, kneel long enough and you get used to it. Since these people had already yielded to him once, there would be plenty of ways to slowly reshape their faith and even solidify it over time.
As for the hidden troublemakers? That was even simpler. Could Leylin, as a god, not sense whether his followers were devout or not?
Those whose faith was shallow—or who were outright hypocrites—would never rise to any position of power in their lifetimes. The moment they showed any substantive signs of rebellion, they would be dragged out and executed as an example.
With this combination of soft and hard measures, Leylin was confident that within a few years, he could bring these natives completely to heel—making them devoted to him, body and soul.
"What a pity… there still isn't enough time…"
Leylin shook his head.
"Those who worship my Lord and cast aside false gods—not only yourselves, but the souls of your families as well shall be saved…"
At that moment, many apprentice priests clad in black vestments were moving through the square, comforting these lambs.
When one's very life was under threat, the heart became most vulnerable—its defenses at their weakest and most open to intrusion. Without Leylin needing to say a word, Tiffa had already grasped this and begun dispatching the apprentice priests to hone their skills.
It had to be said that under the coaxing of these professional charlatans, even more natives chose to follow Leylin. The threads of their faith had grown ever more firm.
"If... if I believe in the gods, can my father also be redeemed?"
A native girl looked timidly at Tiffa before her, her small dark face filled with unease.
"Who is your father? Where is he?"
Tiffa wore a benevolent smile, crouching down directly to meet the girl's gaze.
The child had pale yellow skin and ink-black hair, her face still smudged with mud and charcoal marks.
"He... he was a warrior of the tribe. He died at the seaside today..." the girl said timidly.
"He will!" Tiffa gently stroked the girl's head. "Our Lord commands slaughter. All the souls who fell in battle today rest within His palm. As long as you serve Our Lord with a devout heart, his soul will one day find redemption..."
"Then I believe!"
The girl knelt before the divine statue and bowed in solemn reverence, so fervently that bruises and traces of blood appeared on her forehead.
"Great High Priest, I know the whereabouts of a group of tribal warriors. They're hiding in a cave in the Bakara Mountains. Among them is the tribe's young chieftain..."
The girl walked up to Tiffa, her composed expression enough to move even Tiffa.
A murmur rippled through the gathered natives—clearly, the little girl's betrayal had shocked them all.
"Very well! You shall be rewarded for this!"
Tiffa signaled to a priest standing nearby, who immediately ran off to relay this vital intelligence to the other leaders.
Tiffa herself regarded the native girl with a warm and kindly expression, but before she had even decided what reward to bestow, golden light erupted from the statue of the Targaryen Wyvern.
"My God..."
The overwhelming power forced every person present to their knees.
Beneath the holy radiance, the majestic statue seemed to come alive, its spiritually charged gaze settling directly upon the native girl.
"You are kind and resilient—you deserve My blessing!"
Layers of golden light coiled around the native girl, forming a golden sigil upon her forehead.
"Your name!"
After Leylin's gaze withdrew and the divine radiance dissipated, Tiffa regarded the native girl before her with a solemn expression.
"My name is
"You have received the blessings of the Feathered Serpent God. From this day forward, you are the Holy Maiden of our church!"
Tiffa lifted Barbara's small, frail body onto her shoulders. "May the Feathered Serpent God be with you!"
"Feathered Serpent God!" "Feathered Serpent God!"
The numerous priests cried out Leylin's divine name, their shouts growing increasingly frenzied. This atmosphere — and especially Barbara's sudden rise — caused a gleam of something called hope to quietly kindle in the eyes of the other natives.
At the same moment, Leylin felt the faith power from the natives surge dramatically, with even the previously existing lines of faith becoming far more firmly established.