Chapter 518

Chapter 518

The Church was naturally quite dissatisfied with how Blue Star handled things.

In their view, even if their bishop had truly done something wrong, it should have been dealt with internally by the Church—not Blue Star imposing punishment.

This was The Church's consistent practice, like other large organizations such as the military. Their members seemed to possess an unwritten privilege everyone recognizes—even if they violated the law within an empire or a noble's territory, they would be dealt with by their own organization.

This was their privilege and pride.

However, this time, Blue Star's stance was unusually firm.

According to Lorant, within Blue Star's territory, everyone must abide by Blue Star's rules—no exceptions.

If they made an exception for The Church today, tomorrow the military and the knights' orders would follow suit, walking all over Blue Star. In the eyes of the outside world, no matter how strong Blue Star grew, it would still be seen as inferior to these established organizations.

Once others' rules took precedence over their own, not only would their authority be undermined, but even their own possessions would be difficult to protect.

Lorant knew this was a test—whether intentional or not—a challenge to Blue Star.

If mishandled, Blue Star would be forced into a disadvantageous position for a long time, oppressed by the savage rules of this world.

Take some of the weaker races, for example, like the goblins. Even if a human practitioner committed a serious crime within goblin lands, the most the goblins could do was assist the human empire's enforcers in capturing and returning the criminal to the human empire for punishment.

The reason was simple: they were goblins, the weakest race on the continent. Weakness invited oppression from all sides—not just from humans, but even orcs and elves did not need to abide by goblin laws.

Lorant had no intention of letting Blue Star fall into such a state. With sufficient strength at his disposal, he had to establish enough authority to earn the respect and power Blue Star deserved. He had to seize every opportunity to demonstrate Blue Star's firmness to the outside world, making those with ill intentions think twice before provoking them.

This unfortunate bishop who walked right into their hands was clearly an excellent choice.

There was an art to "killing the chicken to scare the monkeys"—selecting a creature that could really wow everyone would maximize the impact of the execution.

Of course, Lorant had no intention of deliberately antagonizing The Church. In fact, had this bishop not brought about his own downfall, Lorant had originally planned to make an example of a few outsider adventurer groups.

While he ignored the protests of The Church and made an example of the bishop, even putting his mangled body on display in the square as a warning, Blue Star simultaneously rolled out a PR campaign in major Church cities under the guise of preaching and promoting the Blue Star Mountains.

These lectures naturally required some embellishments—souvenirs for attendees, or larger "donations" to various churches.

The most enticing of these gifts—and the reason The Church chose to remain publicly silent on the matter—were a few dozen Dream Jellyfish.

In comparison, The Church would have much preferred Lorant to grant them a batch of Dream Weaver allocations.

But Dream Weavers were way too rare and valuable. In Lorant's eyes, The Church's minor embarrassment wasn't worth a batch of Dream Weavers to make up for.

He was also reluctant to part with Healing Chimes, leaving only Dream Jellyfish as the sole creatures that could really wow The Church's members.

Of course, who knows how much weight the extravagant "Goddess of Light" carriage—specially crafted by Lorant's orders and privately gifted to the Pope—played in this affair.

Thus, no matter how much dissatisfaction, anger, or self-concern the Church members in Blue Star's camp harbored, their protests were swiftly suppressed from the top down within The Church itself.

The most unruly and troublesome among them were even shipped off to backwater churches, basically banished to think about what they'd done.

The replacement priests, meanwhile, arrived all smiles, giving off that signature holy glow—living up to The Church's public image.

It was the dazzling brilliance of people who'd gotten what they wanted.

Proper and picturesque.

But if Lorant hadn't made some amends after dealing harshly with the Church, the Church’s remaining followers here would likely be far worse off.

Even the demons in hell would probably give them a wide berth.

Just as the Church, the military, the Mage Association, and the Knights’ Orders have always looked down on each other yet been forced to work together for centuries, they all possess roughly equal strength, making it impossible for any side to dominate. The reality of their situation also prevents them from taking action against one another, leaving them no choice but to compromise and coexist.

The cost of any one side attempting to suppress another with sheer force would be absolutely unacceptable—not just for one party, but for every faction, even the entire continent. The scale of such losses would be catastrophic.

Until the shared Yishou threat is completely resolved, no clear-headed individual would stand by and allow such conflicts to arise.

So from the very beginning, Lorant never intended to overthrow those established organizations and take their place. In fact, there’s room at the top—Blue Star can easily secure a spot among the top-tier organizations.

After that bishop was singled out, flogged to the point of maiming as a warning to others, and left hanging in the square for three days and nights with people forbidden to approach, Blue Star officially became, in the eyes of ordinary citizens, a force rivaling giants like the Church.

Commoners’ logic is always straightforward: if Blue Star dares to humiliate the Church like this, it means they are of the same caliber.

Conversely, had Blue Star failed to retaliate against this bishop, it would have confirmed their inferiority to those long-established organizations.

Now, by bringing this up, Lorant is issuing a veiled warning to all.

His determination to uphold Blue Star’s internal discipline is evident just from what happened to that bishop. No one wants to be made an example of next—or see their subordinates become the next victims.

Those present went cold at the thought: if their own people committed the same offenses as that unfortunate bishop, the consequences would likely be even more brutal.

If Blue Star’s own rules were broken by its own people, everyone could imagine the store manager’s terrifying rage beneath his usual smile.

The attendees hastily nodded in agreement, each mentally fortifying themselves. No one wanted to be the fool who sticks his neck out.

Lorant looked around with satisfaction, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrents of tension, and continued casually, "Of course, basic provisions will remain centralized by Blue Star for now. Each of your legions can set aside some operational reserves during this period. Although the Black Forest has been cleared, the surrounding resources remain plentiful. And once the fortress enters the tunnel and is fully established, all legions can stay here for an additional month."

"After leaving the Lopulo Mountains, if you wish to return for another rotation, you’ll have to fight for it yourselves."

As Lorant had said before, the Lopulo Mountains hold not just danger but also abundant resources.

Blue Star commands numerous legions, and Lorant neither can nor will micromanage their operations. To thrive, they must rely on their own efforts.

Only those who perform well will earn the right to garrison the Lopulo Pass.

During their tenure, the legion will naturally receive a share of the mountain’s bounty.

If they can’t secure the lucrative post at Lopulo, holding the line in the Black Forest is also a decent option. But if they fail to compete for any of these benefits, they’ll have no choice but to watch from the sidelines as other legions grow stronger on the front lines—perhaps even strong enough to absorb them entirely.

Once this phase of mountain development concludes, Blue Star headquarters will no longer micromanage their operations.

Their future will depend entirely on self-sufficiency, and their success or failure will be entirely their own doing.

From the very first time Lorant met these Legion Commanders, he laid down the law: if a legion performs poorly and its commander proves incapable of leading, Blue Star has no need for so many legions.

A smaller, elite force is no bad thing—natural selection rules.

Lorant’s ultimate vision for his legions is akin to the Knights’ Orders: each one wholly self-sufficient, capable of recruiting its own members, sustaining itself financially, and even garrisoning territories independently—yet able to unite into a formidable force when needed.

"Don’t worry, store manager, we’ll work hard."

"Exactly, our boys are all well-behaved—none of those issues will arise."

"Right, right! Our people would never act like those Church beasts, and we’ll keep the Little Qing and Little Black in line—rest assured, store manager!"

The Legion Commanders immediately began vying to prove their loyalty, each terrified of losing ground to rivals in Lorant’s eyes.

Lorant nodded in approval. Once the chatter died down, he continued, "Good. Now, who would like to go first and give their status reports?"

The meeting hall instantly fell silent, like someone dumped ice water on the room. The previously impassioned crowd now stared at their feet, none willing to speak first.

Silem glanced around, then stepped forward. "I’m in charge of the Black Forest advance. Let me start, and if anyone has additions, they can speak afterward. That work for you, bro—I mean, store manager?" The young man caught himself mid-familiarity.