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However, the plague changed all of that.

All of the natural beauty had withered away, and the flourishing city was in dire straits.

Afflicted individuals lined the streets and the waterways, and very little movement could be seen. Corpses were strewn everywhere, and fires seemed to be burning day and night.

The curse was only taking human lives, but the fear had driven the city’s inhabitants mad. Naturally, profiteering bandits had risen to the occasion as well.

Roughly ten percent of the people in the city had been killed by the curse, whereas about half had been killed by other humans.

Their panic and terror had led to widespread death and slaughter, which had only accelerated the city’s decline.

As he walked along the city streets, gazing at the dilapidated buildings and ruined cityscape, Frost’s heart was as cold as ice, and his gaze was expressionless.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

He could not afford to be soft for the sake of the Origin Realm’s countless lives. Otherwise, it was very possible that all of the Intelligent Races in the Origin Realm would be consumed.

Even though this would make him a great sinner in this realm, he was willing to bear the burden.

He would accept responsibility for his actions.

This was the mindset that every leader needed to possess.

On the other hand, killing people was not the goal, just the means. If it were possible to avoid killing, then that was for the best.

“Save...... save us......” a beggar whispered weakly as he reached his hands out to Frost.

Frost turned to look at him.

Unlike the other beggars he had passed, this beggar was wearing a tattered yet colorful embroidered robe. His slightly pudgy figure and his pale face indicated that this individual was at least a wealthy merchant if not a noble.

The plague had taken everything he had.

Frost walked over. “What is your name?”

“Ba...... Banister...... Give me...... something to eat......” the beggar replied weakly.

“Tell me, Banister. Do you believe in gods?” Frost asked.

“I am one of the Lord of the Dreamrealm’s most fervent disciples.”

“Is he good to you?”

“Good?” Banister was confused by the question.

Was the god he believed in good to him?

What kind of laughable question was that?

Banister didn’t know how to respond.

Frost said, “When you are suffering, where is your god?”

Upon hearing this, Banister trembled with agitation. “I’m just asking for food, not to be mocked by you!”

Frost tossed him a piece of white bread.

Banister grabbed the white bread and began to devour it.

Frost calmly watched him eat. “Answer me. Where is your god?”

Banister froze.

After a moment’s thought, he shook his head. “I don’t know. I think...... we have been abandoned.”

His words were filled with sorrow.

The gods were lofty existences. Rarely would they care about the fates of their creation.

Frost slowly stood up. “But you will continue to believe in him, right? You will not give up on him so easily.”

“What do you mean?” Banister gazed suspiciously at Frost.

Then, he watched to his shock as circles of faint golden light began to emanate from Frost’s body.

This light spread through Frost’s feet and enveloped Banister, who could feel the pestilence that had invaded his body begin to shrink back.

Was he recovering?

Banister inspected himself, ecstatic.

The damage that had been done to him by the plague was disappearing, and his strength was returning to him.

He lifted his head and gazed at Frost once more. Suddenly, Banister’s mind cleared up as he hurriedly knelt. “Oh great god, have you finally returned to rescue your pitiful servants?”

Frost coldly said, “I am not the Lord of the Dreamrealm.”

What?

Banister gazed at Frost in shock.

Frost continued, “The one I serve is the great Immortal Ancestor Shadowless Sky, the most radiant individual.”

“The Shadowless Sky God?” Banister asked with some hesitation.

Banister couldn’t ever recall having heard of this god.

Frost had said Shadowless Sky, while Banister had said Shadowless Sky God.

Frost was thinking of correcting him but ultimately gave up on that idea.

These people had lived under the gods’ control for a long time, and their worship of them was deeply ingrained into their being.

Asking them to believe in a different god wouldn’t be too difficult, but asking them to not believe in any god was impossible.

Since that was the case, the Shadowless Sky God was not a bad alternative.

Frost nodded worldlessly.

Upon seeing Frost’s admission, Banister felt incredibly enlightened.

He gazed at Frost’s saintly face, then gritted his teeth and bowed in worship, “Banister is willing to serve the Shadowless Sky God and offer up my everything to him!”

“Since that’s the case...... You should come with me.”

Frost spun around and left. Banister hurriedly crawled to his feet and followed after Frost.

“That...... Sir......” Banister cautiously uttered.

He didn’t know what to call Frost.

“You can call me Elon.” It was a given that Frost had to go by a different name.

“Understood, Sir Elon. What I wanted to ask is why I have never heard of this god before? I am not trying to blaspheme. It’s my fault for not being well-traveled......”

“That’s alright. It’s not your fault. Before this, my Lord never appeared.”

“Never appeared?”

“Yes. My Lord was never interested in earthly matters. He only appears when the world’s destruction is impending and darkness threatens to envelop the entire world.”

Hold on, wasn’t there something slightly wrong with that statement?

Were there really such few bleak periods of time throughout human history?

Why did the Shadowless Sky God not appear then, but the plague did?

Frost shot him a glance. “Are you wondering? Perhaps even suspicious?”

Banister felt his heart seize. “I dare not to!”

“That does not surprise me. After all, what you can see is limited. You might think that this pestilence qualifies as dark days, but you don’t understand that my Lord is concerned with something else entirely. You don’t understand that this plague is just a small foretaste of the true calamity to come.”

“The true calamity?” Banister was stunned.

“Yes, a true calamity, one even greater than the Twilight of the Gods,” Frost replied seriously.

A calamity even greater than the Twilight of the Gods?

Banister was completely stunned.

So this was why the Shadowless Sky God had appeared.

He was the final guardian of this world. Whenever a disaster of epic proportions was going to appear, he would save men and gain disciples for himself?

Because of Frost’s masterful deflection, Banister finally began to believe that the Shadowless Sky God was the true guardian of this world. And this Elon person was undoubtedly the Shadowless Sky God’s messenger, and the Archbishop of the Shadowless Sky Church.

Of course, because the church had been newly established, they were currently the only two members.

Banister, however, didn’t care.

In some sense, this was a good thing. After all, he had seen the Shadowless Sky God’s methods firsthand. If the Shadowless Sky God could clear the pestilence, then Lionheart City might gain a large number of believers in the near future. Perhaps he would become a bishop in the future as one of the church’s first followers.

Yes, this was the plan that Banister had already come up with.

He was a successful businessman, after all, so he was opportunistic. Unfortunately, fate had other plans in store for him, and the pestilence had completely ruined him.

But now that an opportunity to rise from the ashes had presented itself to him, he would naturally not let it pass by.

Under Banister’s guidance, Frost very quickly found a group of infected merchants.

The reason why he hadn’t started by saving people en masse was because he needed to acquire a group of loyal followers first. Those of lowly status were often short-sighted and dim-witted, but their faith was surprisingly strong. Nobles, on the other hand, were mostly worthless as well.

Merchants, on the other hand, were the best ones to target.

Merchants were easy to handle: they would follow whoever had the goods. Because of this, they would be easy to rope in. Their network of connections, broad experience, and quick thinking would all be useful.

After Frost removed the plague from these merchants, many of them chose to convert to his religion instead. Suddenly, Frost found himself quite rich both in terms of resources and manpower.

The next thing the Shadowless Sky Church needed to do was establish a base of operations and draw in believers.

This, on the other hand, was a problem.

Each god had their own territory. They were currently in the Lord of the Dreamrealm’s territory, and establishing another church here was akin to an open declaration of war.

Frost had no intention of doing so just yet.

He viewed himself as a seed that had just been planted. He still needed time to be watered, sprout, and grow.

And those merchants obviously did not want to fight with the Dreamrealm Church either.

As such, after some discussion, they decided to leave and search for a different place to establish their base of operations.

The world was vast, and there would always be places that had not yet been claimed that they could claim for themselves.

The pestilence’s reach was quite great. Only the Shadowless Sky Church could remove it, meaning that they did not have to worry about a shortage of prospective members.

After determining where to establish their church, Frost led his men into the city.

Frost was responsible for saving people, while his bishops and priests were responsible for teaching.

These teachings had been created by them with much thought the night before.

Not even having an established set of teachings should have been a red flag in the first place. However, the threat of death rendered all of those concerns of secondary importance.

Since the Shadowless Sky Church could save people, they could be trusted.

The merchants’ logic was sometimes quite simple.

The church’s leader was responsible for saving people, the bishops for teaching, and the priests for handing out food. This was how the Shadowless Sky Church had organized itself. Everywhere they went, they would save people afflicted by the plague. Of course, some of these individuals would eventually become disciples of the church.

Wherever Frost went, the disciples would follow, and their influence grew greater and greater.

The end result was that faith was being taken from the gods and sick people were being healed. Creating a fake god was a much healthier alternative to slaughtering people wantonly.