Endless Debt Chapter 1174 - 25: Benevolence

Under the thick darkness of night, the priest’s church was not easy to find. It was hidden among a cluster of low buildings, with a faint light seeping through the gaps, like a distant firefly rising in the field. Without the townspeople he encountered on the road to guide him, Bologue would have a hard time finding this place.

Unlike the priest’s esteemed position in Gray Stone Town, his church was small and even a bit dilapidated. The bricks and stones of the building were riddled with cracks and indentations. An earthquake hadn’t toppled this small church, and afterward, it had not been repaired.

It was strange. All the houses that Bologue saw along the way had been repaired to varying degrees, and some had simply been rebuilt.

In contrast, the priest’s residence seemed forgotten, which left Bologue puzzled.

Bologue said, "The old townspeople all say he lives an ascetic life, one that appears even more burdensome than I imagined."

"Can someone really renounce all desires?" Aimou asked.

"I don’t know," Bologue continued, "but ask yourself, if a person loses all desire, are they still human?"

Bologue’s question rendered Aimou silent. As a scholar, seeking the unknown was Aimou’s instinct.

"I have read research reports on similar questions."

"Why would you read such things?" Bologue asked with curiosity.

"I just became curious... after all, if humanity were to undergo psychological castration and completely suppress the birth of desires, wouldn’t it greatly limit the existence of devils?"

"Psychological castration? It does sound like it could curb the devils, but human civilization might become lifeless."

Just thinking about such a human society, regardless of whether psychological castration could be realized, made Bologue feel utterly bored.

Aimou expressed her thoughts, "Desire is like a double-edged sword. With proper control, it can become a driving force that propels us forward. But once left unchecked, it can turn into a wildfire and burn us to bones."

"If the priest is truly as devout and faithful to the code as the townspeople say, then he must be able to ward off all of the devils’ temptations."

Bologue said, "Similarly, if he cannot maintain his virtues..."

"What will happen?" Aimou pressed on.

"He might give up entirely, slipping from one extreme to another, becoming a monster with insatiable desires," Bologue said. "I’ve been through such an extreme, during which I felt no different from a madman."

Aimou knew about Bologue’s experiences during that time. Bologue had become a nightmare lurking in the city’s shadows, slaughtering demons and criminals with abandon. He never showed mercy.

"But you’ve regained your normalcy. I mean, while still a bit extreme, you can control yourself now, instead of becoming a chaotic monster," Aimou said.

"But it’s not an easy process, Aimou," Bologue said. "When your steadfast beliefs and doctrines are shattered, your first inclination may not be to fall into despair but to drag everyone into your anger, leading them along with your broken beliefs and doctrines into the fire."

Bologue’s attitude took on a hint of arrogance, "I managed to rebuild my beliefs, but I can’t be sure if others can achieve the same miracle."

The discussion ended, and after pushing open the church’s door with a creaking sound, Bologue walked into the tranquil church.

The church’s interior was spacious, with wooden pews lined on either side. Strips of white candlelight flickered on high candlesticks, casting weak flames that illuminated the entire space, casting reflections on the arched ceiling. Despite its compact dilapidation, it still exuded an air of solemnity and reverence.

Bologue did not find the priest, but he smelled a hint of blood in the air that shouldn’t be there.

Standing in place, his ethereal perception expanded in all directions like flowing water, surging along the corridors and seeping into the cracks between the bricks.

Bologue sensed no etheric response in this blind perception. Distant, faint footsteps broke the silence quietly. The footsteps sounded uneven, as if the other party were injured, the pace somewhat faltering.

Tightening his grip on the case, the Deceitful Snake Scale Liquid stirred within, and Bologue warily watched the shadows in the crevice as a figure slowly emerged.

"Sorry, Priest, to disturb you so late."

Bologue’s voice was steady as he spoke while moving forward, the scent of blood at his nostrils growing stronger, and he could also hear the dripping of liquid.

"Are you injured?"

Stopping a few meters away from the priest, Bologue stood at a safe distance, whether for attack or defense.

"I’m...I’m a little hurt, but it’s nothing."

In the darkness, the priest’s figure became progressively clearer. It wasn’t a good time for Bologue to intrude, as the priest was shirtless, his chest drenched in sweat, and his back a bloody mess.

"You..." This sight left Bologue quite surprised.

"Sorry to let you see this,"

The priest adjusted the amber glasses on the bridge of his nose and then raised the bloodstained short leather whip in his hand.

Contrary to Bologue’s speculation of a homicide, the priest was merely engaging in self-flagellation, and within this small church where they shared but a wall, Bologue interrupted his ascetic practice.

"If there’s anything, please wait for a moment."