Chapter 7: I Am the Archbishop!

An Xia had spoken on stage only a handful of times in his life.

At most, he had addressed ordinary people.

But now, almost everyone below him was a mage.

After all, what kind of secret cult would recruit ordinary people?

His mind raced at high speed. As time passed bit by bit, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense and suffocating.

Finally, under everyone’s gaze, he opened his mouth.

“Comrades, greetings,” An Xia said, taking a deep breath.

“Comrades?” The cultists did not understand the meaning of that term.

“I am honored to join the July Church.” An Xia looked around, his eyes filled with determination. “But I have discovered that the church is not what I imagined.”

His tone turned grief-stricken.

“I originally believed that the church would be a strict and orderly organization—a sovereign force in the darkness, a benchmark above all other churches! But from what I have observed, the church has already fallen into decay! The church needs salvation! It needs change! It needs reform!”

Hearing this, the old man standing nearby darkened his expression.

The July Church of Leos had been founded by him.

For An Xia to speak this way was to deny everything he had built.

“Then tell us—how should it change?” A cultist immediately raised the question.

An Xia’s voice grew more impassioned.

“First, we must eliminate the bloated structure within the church, beginning with establishing doctrine!”

His tone suddenly shifted.

“Do you even have doctrine?”

His voice lowered, and the cultists shook their heads.

“Isn’t doctrine something only orthodox churches have?”

“Wrong. Completely wrong!” An Xia waved his hand.

“Who told you that only orthodox churches can have doctrine? And who told you that they are the only ‘orthodox’ ones?”

“Are we a heretical cult?” An Xia countered.

“No.”

“Do we kill people?”

“No.”

“Do we engage in theft, robbery, gambling, or lustful acts?”

“Never.”

“Then do the orthodox churches do those things?”

“No.”

“In that case…” An Xia placed the fingers of his left hand on his forehead and ran them back through his hair.

He closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, they were filled with solemnity.

“Doesn’t that make us an orthodox church as well?”

The words struck like thunder.

All the cultists froze in place, and even the old man fell into deep thought.

Though An Xia’s reasoning was somewhat twisted, upon careful reflection, it seemed to contain a hint of truth.

“Are we… an orthodox church?” one cultist could not help but ask, her voice trembling with excitement.

Ever since she had joined the July Church, even while basking in the Cicada Master’s light, she had always feared the day she would be captured.

She envied the orthodox churches.

Though both worshipped deities, those people could walk openly under the sun.

“If not, then what do you think you are?” An Xia leapt down from the platform and walked up to her, gently touching her cheek.

Beneath her makeup, she was a mature woman who still retained her charm.

His voice, imbued with an almost enchanting quality, echoed in her ears.

Her excitement grew, for she had never considered such a possibility before.

At last, her legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the ground in a kneeling posture.

Behind them, Melva and Anders exchanged glances, their expressions filled with complexity.

If they had not known in advance that An Xia was not a cultist, anyone would have believed him to be an ambitious cult leader.

An Xia raised his hand.

The cultist in front of him clung to his leg just to keep herself from collapsing completely.

He lifted his chin slightly and looked around.

“Tell me your thoughts. What do you believe yourselves to be?”

Every cultist fell into thought.

The atmosphere grew quieter and quieter.

Then suddenly, one of them shouted, “We are an orthodox church!”

Once one person took the lead, more and more followed.

“We are an orthodox church!”

“We are an orthodox church!”

“……”

The entire hall erupted in cheers.

An Xia stood at the front of the crowd, raising his arm as if reveling in the moment.

The old man looked at An Xia with great satisfaction.

The cult finally had a worthy successor!

Wait.

Was he not supposed to have only made this boy give a simple initiation speech and then force the three of them to join?

But now this situation…

The old man’s mind raced.

Why did it feel as though he had somehow become an outsider?

A bad premonition arose in his heart.

Sure enough, as the atmosphere reached its peak, An Xia stepped back onto the platform and looked down at the cultists.

“Since we are an orthodox church, we must establish a strict hierarchy and promotion system. This represents our church entering a proper and formal path!”

“Right!” the cultists responded fervently.

“In an orthodox church, the highest leader is the Archbishop. So let us first determine who will take that role,” An Xia said. “Tonight, I have led you to understand the true identity of our church. Therefore, I propose that I take the position of Archbishop. Does anyone object?”

“No!”

“You are the Archbishop! We believe you will lead us to a glorious future!”

“Good!” An Xia nodded. “Below the Archbishop are the ordinary bishops. Who do you nominate as an ordinary bishop?”

All the cultists pointed at the old man.

“Him! This lord has led us for so long. We believe he can serve as an ordinary bishop!”

“Good!” An Xia waved his hand. “Then he shall be the ordinary bishop!”

“Ah?” The old man’s face was full of disbelief. Wait—how had he suddenly been demoted?

Behind them, Anders whispered, “Do orthodox churches even have archbishops and ordinary bishops?”

Melva looked at An Xia, who was making things up on the platform, utterly embarrassed.

“There is no such thing as an ‘ordinary bishop.’ There are archbishops, but the hierarchy of orthodox churches is not what An Xia described.”

For a while after that, An Xia continued to fabricate positions, striving to assign every cultist a role.

At this point, the old man’s aging mind finally caught up.

Damn it—if he let this brat continue, his July Church would truly be completely dismantled!

The old man roared, “Stop!”

His voice drowned out the entire hall, and frost began to spread across the ground.

An Xia looked at him calmly. “Ordinary Bishop, what are you trying to do?”

Wait—you are actually taking this seriously? The old man glared furiously. “This boy is not a follower of the Cicada Master! He is talking nonsense!”

An Xia snorted coldly. “If I am not a follower of the Cicada Master, then what am I? I have put in so much effort to reform the church, giving everyone their own responsibilities. And now you, Ordinary Bishop, step forward to oppose me and even slander me. Ordinary Bishop, what exactly are you trying to do?!”

An Xia shouted, his righteous presence overwhelming, as if he truly were the Archbishop.

Under his influence, the cultists also began to denounce the old man.

Hearing this, the old man trembled with rage. “You… you… you!”

After spitting out three “yous,” he gave up on words entirely and condensed an ice spear before him, hurling it at An Xia.

An Xia’s entire body tensed. He quickly crouched, narrowly dodging the attack.

Then he pointed angrily at the old man. “The Ordinary Bishop dares to harm the Archbishop—this is utter treason! He is trying to prevent our July Church from becoming an orthodox church! My followers, seize the Ordinary Bishop!”

Seeing this, the cultists were just as enraged as An Xia.

Following his command, they all launched attacks against the old man.

Spells erupted everywhere, and the scene instantly descended into chaos.

Amid the chaotic battle, magic flew in all directions.

To avoid being caught in the crossfire, An Xia quietly climbed down from the platform and returned to stand beside Melva and Anders.

“Incredible.” Anders gave a thumbs-up. Everything An Xia had just done felt like a dream to someone as socially anxious as him—something that could only happen in fantasies.

“Nothing special,” An Xia said modestly, nodding. He had merely improvised.

“……” Melva was speechless. What exactly was there to be modest about?!