The corpse of the former Bishop of Turneste and the current Abbot of St. Martin lay on the ground, his dark eyes glaring fiercely at the heavenly kingdom where the gods were located as the sun set and gradually became overshadowed as time passed.

He was still dressed in a magnificent robe, wrapped in precious satin and fur, and adorned with heavy gold and silver ornaments and large amethysts and other precious stones, showing the power and status of his master.

However, everyone looked at this beautifully dressed and noble corpse with as disgust as they looked at the ugly and withered corpse of a rat in the gutter.

"Divine punishment" - this is how they looked at the previous bishop, how they would choke on a piece of bread - although this bread is indeed a little bigger, but it is only a loaf of bread!

"No wonder he refuses to eat left and right, and eats so slowly, he must have a ghost in his heart and is afraid of divine punishment!" A knight from the diocese of Rometo shouted loudly.

"yes, it must be, yes!" Several minor nobles from the diocese of Sugeni chimed in.

The citizens of Turnest looked at the foreign hillbillies with contempt, and who of them did not know that the old bishop must have a ghost in his heart? Who is innocent and who is a sinner, do they not know the way? They were talking about something else.

"I thought it was bad luck not to kill him last time, but now it seems that the gods have a deep meaning."

"No, what is evil, man, if he had been killed at that time, who would have known that he would have been so guilty, and now His Majesty the King and the Archbishop can see it clearly."

The young men spoke without scruples—their newborn calves were not afraid of tigers, and they had no scruples in their hearts, but they were just trying to attract the attention of their companions, and they spoke bitter witticisms to their heart's content.

"It is more difficult for a rich man to enter heaven than for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, and our venerable old bishop has to catch so many handfuls before leaving, won't Satan himself open the door for him to greet him?"

"Ha Lu Ha, Ha Lu Ha!"

Another gang expressed a very different kind of joy:

"The gods of our ancestors have once again blessed us and punished this wicked villain, thank the gods!"

"Ah, this scoundrel, it's good that he's dead, but he hasn't paid back the indigo and honey he took from me for nothing last time."

"Grandpa, it's always a good thing he's dead."

"I didn't say it wasn't a good thing, but do you know how much indigo and honey he took and didn't pay the bill......

In the midst of all the noise and chaos, the young bishop stepped forward, knelt down before the mentor who had deeply influenced his life and soul for half his life, and reached out and closed the other's dead eyes.

When he closed the other person's eyes, he said a sentence in the secret language of the church, so that the people standing near him did not know the content of the words, and only thought it was a prayer.

They were all moved by his act of forgiveness, and they began to reflect on their own celebrations—after all, this sinner had been a bishop and was abbot of a great monastery at the time of his death—and such a man had fallen so far that he seemed to have nothing to celebrate.

The bishop was not actually talking about a prayer, but a poem he saw on the reverse side of an ancient scroll when he was a student in a monastery, and the craftsman who had reworked and planed the parchment left over from the ancient empire was not clean enough to be faintly visible in the sun—it was an unknown poet from the pagan era

The poem: "In the war of the gods, mortals are so small. ”

He sighed. Stand up and think of his conspiracy with the devil that day.

On that day, the demon gathered all his henchmen to discuss what the royal court and the church might do.

"There is no need to be afraid of accusations, for a high priest like the Bishop can pass the divine judgment by eating a piece of bread."

"Hmph, a civilian like me has to go over the fire god, hum, hum."

"The god of fire is to walk blindfolded through seven red-hot iron plowshares."

"Iron plowshares? Iron plowshare? The demon suddenly became curious about this, "Why is it that the seven iron plowshares are not seven iron hoes, is there a symbolic meaning?" ”

"It seems to be the rule of law, and it has no symbolic meaning."

"Oh, is there any specific rule?"

"If there is the slightest hesitation, you will be found guilty."

"Interesting, so interesting...... Bishop, do you think you can fight for a change in the judgment of the Fire God? ”

"You're crazy!"

"No, no, no, I'm not crazy, dear Bishop, this is a great opportunity to gain prestige......"

"What is prestige?"

"Uh- you can buy things cheaply, NPCs will be polite......"

"Cheap to buy?" Some people's eyes have already lit up, but they don't dare to persecute the bishop like a demon king.

And the bishop also vehemently objected: "You don't want me to go to the god of fire, you want to push me to death!" You! ”

"No, no, no, you don't know the rules of this fire god...... There's a lot of holes to be drilled...... Have you ever seen an iron plowshare? Why is the iron plow used instead of the iron hoe? ”

"I don't know how to ......"

"That's why I said, there's a lot of holes to exploit." The demon laughed happily.

According to the demons, first, the iron ploughshare is hollow, which means that there is air in the middle, and the air will flow and take away the heat when heated, and the same volume of iron hollow retains less heat than the solid one—in short, the iron plow cools much faster than the iron hoe.

Second, iron that burns to the point of redness isn't as hot as people think, remember? Before the demons crossed over, there was no furnace that could melt iron to 1000 degrees. Burn the iron red, 500 degrees is enough. It looks scary, but it's not that hot.

Third, 500 degrees is the tolerable range of the "fire law".

Fire is an ancient shamanic witchcraft that is widespread in both the East and the West, probably older than written, and is still practiced by shamans in the South and Northeast regions, as well as by the Maori people in New Zealand.

The key to the fire method is, firstly, to have thick calluses on the soles of the feet, which can effectively protect the feet from heat, and secondly, "there must be no hesitation", and the skin should not be in contact with the hot iron for more than seven seconds.

The seemingly harsh punishment is actually the key to guiding the referee to pass without injury.

And the other kind of fire god - holding the red hot iron in the hand also has many secrets, in addition to the red iron mentioned above, the size and shape of the iron are all particular, and - the rule is that the priest will inspect the wound after three days - if the priest claims that there is no wound, who will look at it?

Once you find out that this magic is actually very loophole, and you have the opportunity to brush up on the reputation of "cheap shopping" and "friendly NPCs", the Great Demon King can't sit still.

But the protagonist of the big drama she scheduled didn't want to cooperate at all.

"What can be solved by eating a piece of bread, why should I go to take the red-hot iron?"

"Humph! Is the problem solved by eating bread? You're done eating, and then what? Your ex just let you go? ”

"Then if I take the red-hot piece of iron, he will let me go? Amusing! I know him, this old fox won't walk on a piece of red-hot iron, he eats a piece of bread—and then continues to trouble me! ”

"As long as you cooperate, I promise that he won't want to trouble you again after eating that piece of bread......"

"Really?"

"It's true, it's more real than real gold."