novelnext Chapter 2 Unarmed Combat
Chapter 2 Unarmed Combat
A dark and damp dungeon.
The dim candlelight flickered, casting distorted shadows on the moss-covered stone wall.
Painful screams emanated intermittently from one of the cells, echoing and reverberating through the corridor.
In the surrounding cages, pairs of terrified eyes peered through the cold iron bars at the bloody scene before them, as if some painful memories had been stirred up.
One blow.
Orc sin value -5
cure once
Personal experience points +10
Earn two jobs with one job!
Richard was very satisfied with his job.
This cycle repeated itself several times.
The defiant flame in the eyes of that unruly, foul-mouthed orc was completely extinguished, leaving only endless despair and numbness.
"Tell me about the Shadow you mentioned before!"
Richard was on fire, so engrossed in his game that he almost forgot about the main objective.
The orc's voice was urgent, and he dared not hide anything.
"I heard it's related to the Tower of the First Month, but they didn't tell me the specifics."
"I was only ordered to blow up the bridges connecting the towns to Deep Water City and block the roads."
"Whose orders?"
"They are a gang of bandits who call themselves the Zantalin Society."
Santalin Meeting?
Richard frowned slightly.
How did those guys, who are like sewer rats, end up colluding with the Tower of the Moon?
The orc's cracked lips trembled, his voice hoarse and broken, his eyes pleading.
"Please forgive me!"
"I have reported everything I know truthfully."
Richard shook his head.
"You shouldn't be confessing to me."
Yorick was startled, then realized what was happening and struggled to look at the sun emblem on his chest, which gleamed warmly in the candlelight.
"Great Lord of Dawn, please...please forgive my sins..."
Richard nodded, a look of satisfaction on his face.
Physical rescue is the most effective way to solve the problem!
This adds another devout believer to the church.
[Redemption Points +75]
[Current Redemption Value (173/100), can randomly draw an entry]
Looking at the panel prompts, Richard's eyes flickered slightly as he handed the iron rod back to the guard.
"The rest is up to you."
"I'm going to the interrogation room to pray, and I don't want to be disturbed."
"Yes, Pastor Richard."
Having witnessed Reverend Richard's methods firsthand, the young guard's eyes grew even more devout.
Inside the interrogation room.
Several oak tables were casually placed, long deprived of sunlight, and smelled musty and decaying.
Richard pulled out a stool.
Looking at the dictionary extraction panel in front of him, his expression was even more solemn than when he was praying.
No child cries every day, and no gambler loses every day.
Richard is willing to accept anything as long as he doesn't draw any more overpowered terms like "peeing circle territory".
As the information on the panel scrolled, it eventually stopped.
[Unarmed Combat, lv1 (0/100)] (Upgrades by accumulating effective hits through punches)
[Quality: Rare]
[Effect: High damage from the left punch, high damage from the right punch, small chance to stun upon hit, damage increases with the number of effective hits]
It finally shipped out, and it's even a growth-oriented entry.
But this is the domain of martial monks, isn't it?
I feel like I'm drifting further and further away from the traditional pastor...
Well, although it wasn't divine magic, at least I gained something.
Richard tried to reassure himself, but another message popped up in front of him.
[After drawing ten times, the guaranteed reward item will be triggered]
[Entry: Standing Stick Single Fight]
[Quality: Rare]
[Effect: When all nearby teammates fall, the "Fight to the Death" effect is triggered, temporarily increasing Strength attribute by 50%]
A sacrificial priest?
Teammate sacrificed to the heavens, granting boundless magical power!
I am a servant of Losanda, not some morbid and twisted cultist.
Is it because my strength attribute is too high that the system has classified me as a physical paladin?
Richard opened the attribute panel.
——Basic Attributes——
[Strength: 16] (Strength, Athletic Ability, Physical Potential)
Agility: 10 (Flexibility, Reaction Speed, Balance)
[Constitution: 12] (Health, Endurance, Vitality)
[Intelligence: 10] (Thinking, memory, and logical abilities)
[Perception: 15] (Observation, Insight, Harmony)
[Charisma: 13] (Appearance and demeanor, cohesion, persuasiveness)
Adventurers once advised him that he was better suited to be a priest in the field of war.
But Richard remained unmoved, for no other reason than his vulgarity!
Would the god of war, Tempas, allow his followers to open the silver veil in the temple?
Another beautiful red-haired goddess granted her request and, showing great interest in Richard, extended an olive branch.
More importantly, while you are praying to Tempas, your opponent is likely also praying to him. This absolutely neutral master will not favor either side.
But Lossandar is different; he would even send a Seraphim angel down to earth just to help his followers defeat the mere gnolls.
Leave the dark cellar.
The afternoon sun surged in like a tide, instantly dispelling the stench of decay and blood from my body.
Chief of the Blackrock Town Guard, Weiss, was already waiting outside the door.
This is a middle-aged man whose face is etched with the marks of time; his worn-out iron armor is all worn and dull.
He held his sword with one hand and clenched his fist in front of his chest, bowing solemnly to the young pastor.
"Thank you for your assistance, Reverend Richard. On behalf of the villagers of Blackrock, I express my respect."
Richard waved his hand casually.
"It is our duty to teach and guide the lost deer."
On the way back to the monastery.
A gentle afternoon breeze carried the scent of wheat.
A breeze wafts from the vast fields, carrying the sweet fragrance of ripe wheat and the aroma of the earth.
On the grassy slope, a cow slowly chewed on alfalfa, its tail swishing leisurely as it chased away the persistent flies.
"Damn you, Serbia! If you keep encouraging my son to play with pee and mud, I'll smash your lute to pieces!"
The half-human village woman, wielding a shovel, chased after the passing bard.
Occasionally, villagers returning home with hoes or village women carrying buckets would pass by and see the pastor in his plain white vestment.
They all stopped in their tracks, took off their hats or gathered their aprons, and broke into slightly reserved yet very warm smiles.
Good afternoon, Pastor Richard!
Richard always responded with a smile.
The chief of guard walked beside me, the rough soles of his boots making a rustling sound as they rolled over the gravel path.
Feeling the rare peaceful atmosphere of the small town, I was filled with emotion.
Who would have thought that just a few months ago, the town was being used as food by the goblin tribe, who wantonly invaded and burned it?
Until this man appeared beside her, and in the most brutal yet simplest way, he punched a goblin bear to death with a few blows, deterring the goblin tribe from daring to offend again.
"Thanks to Reverend Richard's protection, Blackrock Town has enjoyed a rare period of peace, although the gnolls from the south often harass us, and last week they even injured two night watch tenants."
Richard did not refuse and agreed.
"I'll handle it."
Outside the church shrine.
A dozen or so villagers, both men and women, gathered there.
They didn't make a fuss, but simply peered into the stained glass windows, their faces a mixture of curiosity and awe.
"What are you all doing outside the church?"
The chief of guard approached and questioned him, glancing furtively at Richard, worried that the villagers' disrespect might anger the young pastor.
Fortunately, Richard did not express any dissatisfaction.
The villagers turned around at the sound and saw Richard standing next to the chief. They all patted their chests and bowed respectfully.
Good afternoon, Pastor Richard.
After the greeting, one of the bolder villagers lowered his voice and spoke.
"Commander, a group of adventurers have just arrived and entered the monastery."
Blackrock Town is located at a remote crossroads of a trade route, and occasionally weary adventurers pass by to resupply, but the Chief of the Guards doesn't pay much attention to them.
"They're just a group of adventurers, are they really worth all this staring?"
"It's different, Chief."
The villager rubbed his hands together, his eyes sparkling with longing, and his voice was somewhat excited.
"Judging from the accents they spoke as they passed by, it seemed like they came from the Baldur's Gate."
"That grandeur...tsk tsk, especially that paladin leading the group, with that fine iron longsword hanging at his waist."
The villager stretched out his rough fingers and gestured, then smacked his lips.
"The jewels inlaid on that scabbard are dazzlingly bright! They're worth a whole year's harvest that I toiled away for!"
Upon hearing this, Richard, standing beside him, frowned and instinctively gripped the iron Bible in his hand.
Could it be that group of adventurers from back then who came looking for us?