Banquet

Initially, the Celestoria Mountain Range was regarded as the greatest work of the First God, Alkis.

When he and his disciples arrived at this place, they saw that it was barren and devoid of life.

The land was desolate and bleak, so Alkis picked up a stone and spoke words that the disciples could not understand.

In an instant, a great mountain stood tall before them, and it breathed life and vitality into the city of Celestoria.

The mountain gave people a sense of grandeur and majesty, and so this city-port was named "Celestoria."

However, due to its internal terrain, which was very suitable for magical beasts, these creatures slowly took over the area.

Gradually, the Celestoria Mountain Range became the most rampant area for magical beasts on the entire Holy Continent.

Later, the Church recognized the severity of this threat.

They believed that the mountain was a divine gift, and allowing magical beasts to occupy it was a desecration of God's creation.

Thus, every five years, they organized a coalition army to conduct a large-scale crusade against this mountain range.

The bravest and most heroic of the armies would receive commendations and promotions from the Church.

But over time, more and more people started bribing the local Regional Priest to report false information to the Church.

As a result, truly courageous armies would go unrecognized and return home injured and battered, while those who had offered bribes received rewards without shedding a drop of blood.

Another week passed, and the remaining two armies finally arrived in Celestoria to join the assembly.

"You took your time getting here," Thomas remarked to the two priests who had just arrived.

The two priests kept their faces expressionless, offering no retort.

"Two useless fools. It seems I have no real competition now," Thomas thought to himself with a sneer.

The two priests who had just arrived, on the other hand, had already suffered financial losses and lost many men and supplies.

They were clearly in no position to put up much of a fight.

However, both of them had their own plans and thoughts, which they chose not to reveal at the moment.

Seeing this, Thomas rejoiced inwardly.

"It seems I am not only smart but also know how to please my superiors. This time, the reward and promotion are in the bag!"

Night soon fell.

With the arrival of the four armies, the priest of Celestoria invited the four visiting priests, along with the local priest, to join him for a banquet at his residence.

He intended to use this opportunity to discuss military affairs.

The lavish banquet was held in a grand hall illuminated by candlelight, which highlighted the opulence of every corner.

The walls, adorned with intricate gold leaf patterns, shimmered in the light, while the ceiling bore religious frescoes depicting ancient legends.

A long cherrywood dining table was laden with sumptuous dishes, served on bowls and plates crafted from beast cores and inlaid with gold.

The exquisite tableware held a variety of high-end ingredients — the choicest cuts of meat from high-level magical beasts and an array of rare delicacies.

The air was filled with the rich aroma of the food.

Six priests, dressed in elaborate garments, sat around the table.

Although they were men of the cloth, the atmosphere at the dining table was charged with a subtle tension.

Seated at the center was Marco, the priest of Celestoria, who bore a dignified expression, a hint of authority evident in his brow.

Beside him sat Vis, the local priest, whose face betrayed a trace of unease.

The other three priests appeared slightly tense but kept their composure, evidently seeking to negotiate with him privately and hoping to secure his support through bribes.

As the banquet began, the servants presented one exquisite dish after another.

The six priests raised their glasses to toast each other, maintaining a facade of politeness and humility, even as hidden currents flowed beneath the surface.

Thomas, being the first to speak, broke the silence.

Known for his poise and experience, he often played a pivotal role within the church.

He set down his silver knife and leaned slightly towards the priest in the center.

With a smile, Thomas said:

"Father Marco, your contributions to the church have always been evident, and I, along with my fellow brothers, hold you in the highest regard.

I heard that you have been renovating a chapel recently and might be running short on funds.

If you are willing to accept, I have some personal savings that could serve as a modest contribution."

A flicker of cold light flashed in Marco's eyes, but he maintained a calm exterior, raising his glass slightly with a smile.

"Thomas, you are too kind. God's grace is everywhere, and the church will naturally make the necessary arrangements."

Thomas kept his smile steady, but he understood that Marco had not outright refused.

This was an open hint, suggesting he was willing to accept further "assistance."

Not far away, Phillips, the priest from Aetherhaven, was unwilling to be left behind.

He took out a delicate little gold box from inside his robe and placed it before Marco, lowering his voice.

"Father Marco, this is a rare treasure from the East, symbolizing great power.

I know you have always loved collecting such rare objects; I hope it brings you inspiration."

The gold box glimmered softly, seeming to emit a tempting glow under the candlelight.

Phillips then took out another small box from his clothing and placed it in front of Vis.

"You've worked hard as well, Father Vis."

Vis merely stared at the items before him, not daring to move.

Marco glanced at the gold box, fully aware that this was far more than just a simple gift exchange.

It represented Phillips' support for him, an attempt to use material bribes to secure an advancement in the church's hierarchy.

Marco did not respond immediately, but he nodded slightly to indicate he had accepted the gesture.

At this moment, Father Carlse of Eldoria, also unwilling to be outdone, made his move.

He was young, ambitious, and his eyes gleamed with the fire of ambition.

He knew that Marco's assistance was crucial in the power struggles within the church.

He slowly raised his hand, signaling a servant to bring forward a silver platter holding foie gras, next to which was a heavy bag wrapped in velvet.

"Lord Marco, as you know, I always uphold the teachings in all my dealings. Inside this bag is some of my personal savings. I hope it can provide you with some convenience in your future endeavors."

His tone was calm, as if he were doing something entirely routine.

He then placed another bag in front of Vis.

"And I hope this can offer you some assistance as well, Father Vis."

Vis's face showed a hint of bitterness. He seemed to want to reach for the bag, but his body remained motionless.

Marco looked at the bag, noticing the faint glint of gold coins from its opening. He still did not speak but lifted his cup and took a small sip of wine.

Carlse smiled, evidently confident in his move.

The bribes from the three priests came one after another: Thomas offered financial support, Phillips presented rare treasures, and Carlse wagered his wealth and loyalty.

Every gesture at the dinner seemed ordinary on the surface, but beneath it lay hidden intrigues.

The atmosphere around the table gradually grew more subtle; behind the bribery was a battle for power within the church, and everyone was carefully weighing the costs and benefits.

However, sitting at the far end of the table, the fifth priest, Raphael of Brightwater, stood out remarkably.

He was young, with a gentle countenance and eyes that shone with unwavering faith.

Unlike the others, he had shown dissatisfaction with this banquet from the very beginning.

Every hint of bribery, every exchange of gold and silver, caused his brows to furrow tighter.

He was one of the few in the church who adhered strictly to purity and moral convictions.

Watching this blatant corruption unfold before him filled him with anger and disappointment.

When Carlse handed over the last few bags, Raphael could no longer hold back. He stood up, casting a cold, sweeping glance over the 'transactions' taking place at the table.

He said nothing, but his gaze conveyed silent condemnation.

Marco looked up, slightly puzzled, at Raphael.

"Father Raphael, where are you going? The banquet is not yet over."

Vis hastily added, "Is the food not to your taste, Father Raphael? I will have it changed immediately."

But Raphael's voice was calm, yet filled with resolute determination.

"Father Marco, Father Vis, I came here to fulfill my duty, not to partake in these corrupt dealings. I cannot continue at such a banquet. Please forgive my departure."

His words echoed through the grand hall, and for a moment, the other priests around the table were silent.

Thomas, Phillips, and Carlse showed a hint of unease on their faces, knowing Raphael would not accept their bribes.

Marco remained calm, giving a slight nod in understanding.

"Raphael, faith is a personal choice. If you must leave, I won't stop you. May God bless you."

Raphael said no more. He turned and left the banquet hall, his back straight and unyielding.

The banquet continued, but Raphael had made up his mind—he would no longer take part in such gatherings.

Vis, seeing this, also felt a strong urge to leave, but in the end, he chose to remain.

Greed persisted, and the dealings never ceased.

With Raphael's departure, the atmosphere of the banquet grew a bit heavier, but it did not halt the proceedings.

Marco raised his hand slightly, signaling the servants to continue serving dishes.

He looked at Thomas, Phillips, Carlse, and the hesitant Vis, smiling as he spoke, "Church affairs are busy, and we, as priests, must support one another."

The others exchanged glances and smiled back.

They stood and raised their glasses.

Vis hesitated for a moment but eventually joined in.

The banquet continued, undisturbed.