Chapter 8: The Princess’s First Client

A dazzling white light bloomed in an instant.

The sound of the explosion was like thunder on a clear day, shaking the earth with a rumble.

Old Qien, who should have been the first to die, quietly closed his eyes, awaiting his own death.

He had lived for fifty-seven years.

In this era, a lifetime of hard labor meant most people didn’t get the chance to die of old age.

There weren’t many common folk who lived to his age.

And not only did he have a clever adopted daughter, but he also got to experience a “grand and glorious” life before his death.

All in all, Old Qien felt it was a worthwhile trade.

The anticipated pain never came.

Perhaps it was because death traveled faster than pain.

With this thought, Old Qien slowly opened his eyes.

Before him were ruins scattered by the shockwave, a large crater left by the explosion, and…

A bizarre tentacle that was shielding him?!

The pitchfork in Old Qien’s hand fell to the ground with a “clang.”

He had lived for fifty-seven years; what hadn’t he seen?

This scene, he truly had never seen before!

For a moment, Old Qien was at a loss.

Looking around, the goblins’ asses were still hanging from the ruins, swaying in the wind.

Clearly, the power of the explosion was no fake.

But looking at the bizarre tentacle, there wasn’t even a single wound on it?

Old Qien belatedly realized that he had encountered a powerful magical beast, one far stronger than those goblins!

His responsibility as the village chief and his belated fear clashed at this moment.

Old Qien bent down with trembling hands, picked up the pitchfork, and thrust it at the tentacle.

As expected, it didn’t break its defense.

Seeing this, Old Qien immediately turned and ran, not forgetting to attract the tentacle’s attention as he fled:

“Come on! You monster!”

The bizarre tentacle curled in confusion, then shrank like a deflating balloon.

Only then did Old Qien see the black-robed figure.

The figure wasn’t tall, even smaller than his adopted daughter, but he didn’t dare to underestimate them for a second.

Didn’t he see such a large tentacle emerge from their head? Was their true form a hundred-meter-tall amorphous flesh mound?

Seeing the black-robed figure remain motionless, Old Qien stomped his foot fiercely, his eyes subconsciously glancing at the entrance to the cellar.

It was close! If that black-robed figure had a mind to, they could reach the cellar in just a few short steps.

At that time…

Old Qien didn’t dare to think further.

Anger drove the fear from his body.

He shouted a war cry and charged with his pitchfork, aiming for the black-robed person’s head.

Hopefully, after killing him, the other would be satisfied and leave.

However, fate had other plans.

Old Qien’s pitchfork stopped less than a meter from the black-robed figure, the recoil stinging the web of his thumb.

He looked closely and saw a small tentacle extending from the hood.

Though it was no thicker than his finger, it had easily blocked his attack.

Cold sweat dripped down.

In Old Qien’s amber pupils, the black-robed figure’s movements were reflected.

She was actually taking off her hood!

“Clang.”

The pitchfork was knocked to the ground by the tentacle.

Old Qien was dumbfounded.

Under the hood was not the amorphous flesh mound he had imagined, but a young girl.

As an old father, his daughter should always be first in his heart.

But at this moment, Old Qien’s conviction was put to the test.

“My kin, this person tried to hit you as soon as he saw you, how mean… I don’t want him as a follower!”

Opposite Old Qien, Nastasia was whispering to Violet.

In the original storyline, this old man was a fanatical believer of Nastasia, but Violet couldn’t just tell Her “I’ve read the script.”

She could only helplessly pat Nastasia’s body to soothe the bristling Evil God.

“Even if, even if you plead for him, my kin…”

Nastasia was so comfortable she had melted into a pile, but she was still being stubborn.

The corner of Violet’s mouth twitched, and she had to turn her gaze to Old Qien.

Being stared at by those rose-red eyes, for some reason, the world-wise Old Qien had the illusion that his innermost secrets were being laid bare, and a chill ran down his spine.

“Hello, my name is Elynne.”

Violet extended her hand to Old Qien, and without waiting for his reply, continued:

“I am an apostle of the Evil God—Nastasia.”

Old Qien’s pupils contracted sharply.

Inside the cellar, a golden-haired girl was surrounded by several large men.

Despite their huge advantage in size and numbers, the men were actually on the losing side.

The golden-haired girl’s eyes were red-rimmed, her tear-stained face smudged with dirt she had accidentally brushed against.

She swung the staff in her hands like a club with such vigor that it forced the large men to keep retreating.

But no matter how they retreated, the men still didn’t give way.

Even when they were hit and grimacing in pain, not a single one of them yielded.

At that moment, the cellar shook violently.

The sudden tremor caused the girl to fall to the ground.

She didn’t get up immediately, but lay there.

From within her scattered golden hair came her suppressed, grief-stricken sobs.

The men also fell silent.

After a long while, the middle-aged hunter who had brought her into the cellar gritted his teeth and stepped forward to help her up.

“Tia, this was Old Qien’s own decision.

He will become a star in the sky, always watching over you.”

The golden-haired girl kept her head down, still unable to stop sobbing.

Just as the middle-aged hunter was about to say more, the entrance to the cellar—the entrance they had blocked—suddenly began to vibrate!

Something was trying to force its way in from the outside!

The men’s faces immediately turned cold.

They all grabbed their weapons, ready to fight the guys outside.

The golden-haired girl also stopped crying, a hateful light shining in her eyes.

But before she could take a step, a familiar palm covered her mouth again.

The middle-aged hunter gave her an apologetic smile, then dragged her deeper into the cellar.

Outside the cellar, Old Qien was cursing as he poked the entrance on the ground with his pitchfork.

Behind him, Violet stood quietly to the side.

She hadn’t expected proselytizing to go so much smoother than she had imagined.

Old Qien had chosen to become a follower with almost no hesitation.

Although, according to Nastasia, the Old Qien before her was just a “lay believer.”

The so-called “believes in a little bit of everything.”

And because of Old Qien’s poor performance earlier, Nastasia refused to grant him a blessing, making him truly miserable to the extreme.

“My kin, are we going to build our nest here from now on?”

“Yes. With the village chief leading the way, and with our efforts, this village should be able to accept the existence of an Evil God quite well.”

Violet tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear, her gaze fixed on Old Qien’s back.

“By the way, I wanted to ask, is the doctrine really unchangeable?”

“Hmm… probably? At least in my remaining memories, no god has ever changed their own doctrine.”

However, Violet shook her head, reached up to take Nastasia from her head, and held Her in her arms, stroking Her.

“I was thinking, what if it’s people who change the doctrine?

You know, the same sentence can have different meanings to different people.

Disorder, chaos, they don’t necessarily have to represent evil.”

As she said this, Violet couldn’t help but think of the players.

She might know why her compatibility with Nastasia was one hundred percent.

Players were never just black and white.

They could always do unexpected things for all sorts of bizarre reasons.

One moment they might be working for you like a loyal steed, the next they might stab you in the back.

If one had to assign them an alignment, it would probably be…

[Chaotic Neutral]