Safe City Ch.61

Chapter 61: The Temple

For many of the residents who had joined later, their first impression of the temple and its clergy was simple: a sense of reassurance.

The clergy all shared certain traits. They wore gentle smiles when caring for patients, carried calm and composed demeanors, and even during the morning and evening prayers, their voices remained steady and soothing.

Their loose, plain-colored robes gave them an air of holiness, making them seem harmless and benevolent.

Because of that, many of the newer residents never noticed the well-developed muscles hidden beneath those dignified robes.

At least, Yuan Ben, a doctor from Velvet Star, was thoroughly shocked by his colleagues.

After officially becoming a believer of the Great Creator God, Yuan Ben recited the physician’s oath before the deity and was assigned to work at the temple in the Fifth District of the Inner City.

This was now his first month on the job.

To him, it felt just like working at Blue Sea Fifth Hospital.

The basic duties were no different from those on Velvet Star: caring for patients, staying busy with work, eating all three meals in the cafeteria, and occasionally chatting and joking with coworkers.

The only addition was the daily routine of gathering in the central area every morning and evening to pray before the statue of the Great Creator God.

Yuan Ben accepted this quite naturally.

Once he had truly become a believer, he no longer had any doubts about the existence of the Creator God. Like everyone else, he sincerely believed in the deity, and prayer had become something that brought him genuine happiness.

He had almost no worries—except for one thing.

Every day, Yuan Ben studied diligently and memorized tirelessly. Through sheer effort, he had finally reached the point where he could communicate with his coworkers in everyday Blue Sea language without relying on translation.

He had just excitedly announced this achievement to his colleagues when, in the very next moment, all believers received a divine blessing.

Believers could now understand the languages of all civilizations. No one needed to learn foreign languages anymore!

Yuan Ben: “…”

“No matter,” he comforted himself. “At least my Blue Sea language still isn’t perfectly fluent. With this blessing, I won’t need a translator to talk to my coworkers anymore.”

Then, three days earlier, the Pope had announced that, in accordance with a divine revelation from the Great Creator God, clergy would be selected to go out and spread the faith.

Yuan Ben had assumed that meant accompanying the military or joining one of the elite crystal hunter teams.

He had no experience with missionary work, but since he himself had joined Blue Sea only after the fact, he felt he ought to qualify as well.

Countless times, Yuan Ben had been grateful that a group of crystal hunters had brought him to Blue Sea, giving him the peaceful life he enjoyed now.

Now he wanted to help others too, so that the survivors on Dazzling Star could, like him, bask in the protection of the Great God.

So he signed up without hesitation.

Then the AI informed him that his combat rating was insufficient and that he was ineligible to register.

Yuan Ben: “…”

Still unwilling to give up, he went to ask one of his coworkers.

“Missionary work requires a combat rating too?”

His coworker looked even more surprised than he was.

“Of course it does. If we didn’t consider combat ability, how would you survive out there?”

Yuan Ben realized the real reason for his coworker’s surprise was that someone with such a low combat rating had actually dared to volunteer.

“I thought missionaries would go out together with residents who have stronger combat abilities.”

His coworker looked even more astonished.

“Why would you think that? That would be so inefficient.”

“A missionary should take charge of an entire region alone. We keep in contact with one another, of course, but each of us operates independently without interfering with the others.”

Yuan Ben was thoroughly confused.

“But Dazzling Star is so dangerous. If you’re only choosing clergy with high enough combat ratings, will there even be enough people?”

His coworker burst into laughter.

“Bishop Yuan, haven’t you ever read the history of the Temple?”

“I have! I’ve read it several times.”

“Then didn’t you notice? Throughout its entire history, the Temple has always been the one rescuing wounded soldiers on the battlefield.”

His coworker patted Yuan Ben on the shoulder.

“Swords have no eyes, and neither do bullets or artillery. How do you think the clergy managed to pull wounded soldiers off the battlefield?”

Yuan Ben froze.

He had read the history of the Temple. He knew it had always been devoted to saving lives, but he had never thought about it from that perspective.

That was true.

When Blue Sea people fought, they had a habit of fighting with terrifying ferocity, becoming little short of human tornadoes that tore through anyone in their path.

Sometimes, while watching documentaries about Blue Sea’s famous battles, he even got the impression that they weren’t fighting to seize territory at all—they simply loved fighting.

On a battlefield like that, how could the clergy who casually carried the wounded to safety possibly be weak?

From the histories he had read, every time the Temple suffered heavy casualties, it was because of massive natural disasters. The clergy had rushed into danger without regard for their own lives to rescue others. Nature was merciless and beyond human resistance, and that was why so many clergy had perished.

Not once had the Temple suffered large-scale losses because of war.

He took out his phone and opened the Temple’s historical records.

The pages were packed with the names of battles in which the Temple had participated.

In the past, whenever Yuan Ben saw this endless list of campaigns, he had simply admired the Temple and believed that its clergy had truly lived by their oath—to love the people and save the people.

But now, as he stared at the seemingly endless roll of battle names, he suddenly realized something.

Before Blue Sea was unified, it had been divided into many different nations.

Those nations went to war from time to time, and between wars they enjoyed periods of peace and recovery.

Every nation had its own times of rest.

The Temple, however, had never missed a single war.

As long as the Blue Sea civilization had existed, the Temple had been present on its battlefields. Generation after generation, its clergy had tempered themselves amid the fires of war.

So now, as Yuan Ben stood on the rooftop of the dormitory, watching more than ten thousand white-robed bishops spread their black wings and soar into the sky, he couldn’t help but think:

I knew it.

“Ah… This divine mission required a combat rating of at least eighty-five. I missed it by just three points.”

The coworker who usually wore a priest’s robe, went about his work at a leisurely pace every day, and lived like a complete couch potato walked over with a cup of coffee and stood beside Yuan Ben.

“I know that even if I had reached eighty-five, I probably couldn’t have beaten the hundred thousand-plus other applicants. But if I’d at least made the cutoff, I could’ve attended the Holy Commissioning Ceremony.”

Yuan Ben, whose combat rating was 25, replied, “…It’s fine. Watching from the dormitory is just as good.”

The Holy Commissioning Ceremony was one of the Temple’s traditional rites.

In essence, it was simply a gathering of the clergy who were about to depart on distant missions, where His Holiness the Pope would offer them words of encouragement and bestow blessings upon them.

Whenever the Temple selected people for an expedition, there was always fierce competition. Those who had qualified to compete but ultimately failed to secure a place also attended the ceremony.

After blessing those who had been chosen, His Holiness would offer a few words of encouragement to the unsuccessful candidates as well.

The message was always the same: although they had missed the chance this time and had not been selected for this dangerous yet sacred mission, there would always be another opportunity in the future.

Apparently, in the past, all members of the clergy had been allowed to attend the Holy Commissioning Ceremony as spectators.

But eventually there simply wasn’t enough room.

So clergy like Yuan Ben—who hadn’t even met the qualifications to apply—could only watch the spectacle from the dormitory buildings.

When Yuan Ben first learned that more than a hundred thousand clergy attended the Holy Commissioning Ceremony, his expression had been priceless.

More than a hundred thousand clergy with combat ratings of 85 or higher.

Even the coworker standing beside him—the soft-spoken, flower-loving, movie-watching couch potato—had a combat rating of 82.

…So how did a weakling like me ever end up joining the Temple?

Seeing the disappointment on Yuan Ben’s face, his coworker draped an arm around his shoulders.

“Don’t be so down. It’s not our fault that we’re not strong enough.”

“Whether you’re out there spreading the faith or here in the Inner City treating patients, you’re still contributing to Blue Sea.”

“And besides…”

He pulled out a card and grinned.

“The Temple’s been busy for a long time, but now that things have settled down a bit, the Sacred Training Hall has reopened. I just got my access card. Want to go together?”

“The Sacred Training Hall?”

“Yep. It’s where the clergy train. Normally, new clergy like you are supposed to undergo three years of training before officially taking up their posts. But then the apocalypse happened, everything became chaotic, and the Training Hall stayed closed. Now it’s open again. Since everyone already has their own duties, though, whether you train or not is entirely up to you.”

His coworker handed him his phone, displaying several training videos from the Sacred Training Hall.

“Look! Isn’t it amazing?”

Yuan Ben watched footage of grueling strength training and intense sparring sessions.

Some drills had all kinds of projectiles hurtling toward the trainees at high speed, forcing the clergy to develop instinctive reactions and emergency evasion skills.

Others trapped them in confined spaces where they were attacked relentlessly, training their footwork and positioning.

There were also exercises that involved scaling sheer walls with virtually no footholds, or fighting blindfolded.

The training intensity was simply outrageous.

Even the special forces on Velvet Star wouldn’t train this hard!

Sacred Training Hall…

Did they call it that because it literally forged people like metal?

His coworker, meanwhile, was still sighing happily.

“I’m telling you, we clergy get incredible benefits. Back when we were on Dark Star, a complete training course like this cost a fortune. But for us, it’s completely free.”

Yuan Ben knew his own limits.

“With my combat rating, I’d probably collapse after a single class.”

“You won’t,” his coworker said. “The archbishops are all incredibly capable. They constantly monitor our physical condition, and once you reach your limit, they won’t let you keep training.”

“And besides, we have holy water. If you really push yourself to the limit, just drink some.”

Yuan Ben looked puzzled.

“We have holy water in the Temple?”

How had he never heard of that?

“Oh!” his coworker explained. “It’s just starfruit juice! In ancient times, starfruit was called the Sacred Fruit, so starfruit juice became known as holy water.”

“The Temple is rich, after all, so the Sacred Training Hall has always provided unlimited starfruit juice. If you train until you can’t take it anymore—say your whole body won’t move and it feels like your muscles are about to explode—you just drink a cup. Then you can keep training without hurting yourself.”

Everyone acknowledged that the Temple was wealthy.

Whether back on Dark Star or now, that had always been true. In the past, Blue Sea’s people donated money to the Temple. Now they donated contribution points.

As a result, the clergy had always enjoyed the best benefits in all of Blue Sea.

No one questioned it, though, because whenever something dangerous happened, the clergy were always the first to step forward.

“So you just keep training. When you hit your limit, drink some starfruit juice, then keep training. Hit your limit again, drink another cup. If you keep at it like that, your combat rating is bound to go up!”

Yuan Ben blinked.

“…You can do that?”

His coworker nodded.

“So, are you coming? If you do, we can train together every day.”

“We’ll train for two hours before work, three hours after work, and after lunch we can squeeze in another hour of sparring together. Doesn’t that sound awesome?”

Yuan Ben: “…”

Now he finally understood why every member of the clergy had such terrifying combat ratings.

They trained as if, so long as they didn’t actually die, they should keep pushing themselves as close to death as possible.

Looking into his coworker’s hopeful eyes, Yuan Ben clenched his teeth.

“I’m in.”

He was a member of the clergy.

He wanted to go out and spread the faith.

He wanted to carry out the divine command and bring more people to Blue Sea.

He wanted everyone on Dazzling Star to be blessed by the Great Creator God, just as he had been.

Yuan Ben gazed into the distance, where the silhouettes of the ten thousand white-robed bishops could still just barely be seen as they flew toward the horizon.

With admiration—and even deeper longing—filling his heart, Yuan Ben thought to himself:

‘One day, I’ll become one of them.’

…

Cheng Qisheng was also watching the white-robed bishops soar through the sky.

She had never once doubted the clergy’s ability to carry out a mission.

Barring any surprises, Blue Sea’s population was about to experience explosive growth.

In fact, Blue Sea’s current territory was already starting to feel a little crowded.

She opened a chat with Coriander Safe City.

[Coriander, tell me more about that Safe City you mentioned before—the one that seemed to be trying to trick me into going there.]

[At this point… I wouldn’t mind fighting another Safe City war. =v=]

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