The tallest stone pillar at the center of the Divine Kingdom had now almost become William Clark’s base of operations. Every day, he was either drifting around the kingdom out of boredom, patrolling his territory, squatting atop the pillar counting heads, or floating beside it recording data.

If he weren’t currently lacking divine power and unable to descend, he probably would have already rushed down to personally supervise and guide the actions of the Saintess of Light.

Unknowingly, the days passed by one after another.

Time hurried on, and another month went by. The number of William Clark’s followers also skyrocketed with each passing day.

On this day, as usual, he squatted atop the pillar, idly counting the number of believers.

Saint Spirits: 0

Saint Followers: 0

Fanatics: 1

Devout Followers: 4

True Believers: 30

Nominal Believers: 356

He looked over the numbers carefully and found that the number of true believers—the broad foundation of a deity—had actually reached 30. With so many followers, he could now steadily receive 2 points of faith power every day.

By this day, William Clark had already accumulated 68 points of faith power again, after previously consuming it to condense divine power.

Unfortunately, the number of devout followers and fanatics had not increased.

In fact, what William Clark looked forward to most was for the Saintess of Light to reach the level of a Saint Follower, one of utmost sincerity and faith. Once she reached that level, her faith would become truly unshakable, providing 10 points of faith power every day.

Moreover, even if a Saint Follower died, their soul could ascend to the Divine Kingdom through the Gate of Heaven and become a Saint Spirit in the Hall of Saint Spirits.

If William Clark possessed divine power and was willing to spend it, he could immediately transform that Saint Spirit into a War Angel. A War Angel’s strength started at level 7, with enormous potential for future growth.

In the mortal realm, a level 7 being could be called a “Saint,” holding an extremely exalted status. Even an emperor would treat them with respect. The combat power of an angel was self-evident.

Of course, this was all just wishful thinking for now.

After all, the emergence of each Saint Follower required all sorts of opportunities and was not something that could be achieved simply by expending divine power. Otherwise, War Angels would have long since become commonplace.

After counting his followers, William Clark let his mind wander in all directions, but soon cast aside these stray thoughts and continued pondering the divinity.

However, this day was destined to be extraordinary.

Just as William Clark was halfway through his research on divinity, his channel of faith with the Saintess of Light, Catherine, began to tremble violently.

At the same time, the voice of the Saintess’s prayer came through clearly: “Great Lord of Light, please bestow a miracle and save those lost lambs~”

Save the lost lambs?

William Clark was instantly overjoyed.

The moment he heard this prayer, he understood that Catherine’s plan had succeeded.

Next, it was time to reap the fruits of victory!

……

Saint Luan Monastery.

This was an ordinary monastery located on the empire’s border. Among the more than a hundred monasteries in the Light Empire, it was extremely ordinary and inconspicuous, having produced only one Saint Spirit since its founding.

However, precisely because of its remoteness and obscurity, and thanks to the efforts of the fanatic priest Luke, it had become the last bastion.

The night was bright, with silvery moonlight pouring down from the sky.

Bathed in moonlight, this centuries-old monastery exuded an indescribable sense of desolation. The ashen stone walls had already collapsed during the battle over a month ago, leaving only half-crumbled, time-worn foundations. From a distance, it looked dilapidated and bleak.

Inside the walls, the toppled statue of the God of Light in the Faith Square had somehow been set upright again, and even the shattered limbs had been glued back in place.

However, due to the rush, the cracks had not yet been repaired. At a glance, the statue was covered in fissures, adding to its air of sorrow.

Beneath the statue, the new Saintess of Light, Catherine, knelt on one knee, hands over her heart, singing the hymn “Praise of Light” in the most devout posture.

Her ethereal singing echoed through the night, pure light power continuously radiating from her, swirling and rising around her. From afar, she looked holy and majestic.

A month and a half of trials had stripped away her former naivety. Her clear, resolute eyes now held a touch of gravity and depth, truly displaying the bearing of a saintess.

The swordsman Landon and three devout follower soldiers knelt behind her in turn, heads bowed, their expressions reverent.

Over the past month and a half, the four of them had accompanied the Saintess of Light, Catherine, everywhere, often receiving the blessings and enhancements of the Light. They had experienced many battles and trials, and their strength had clearly improved.

The three soldiers’ auras had reached the peak of level 1, while Landon had already reached level 2, now exuding a hint of killing intent, making him almost unrecognizable from before.

Behind them, more than three hundred ordinary believers were gathered, praying softly.

Most of them were ordinary civilians, men and women, young and old, with only a few dozen strong men among them.