Chapter 8: Laborer Neuvillette
Furina's excitement hadn't even begun to fade when she looked at the Chief Justice—immaculately dressed, his entire presence clashing violently with the shabby courtyard—and belatedly realized a rather serious problem. This esteemed gentleman knew absolutely nothing about the current situation. He was, in every sense, a complete and utter otherworldly novice.
"Er... Neuvillette," she rubbed her hands together, trying to project the image of a reliable leader (results questionable), "since you've agreed to help... I, uh, I need to give you a crash course right now! Otherwise, when you see people using soul tools for lighting later, don't go thinking it's some new kind of Indemnitium or something!"
Neuvillette inclined his head slightly, his posture as impeccable as ever, despite the crooked fence and sacks of flour serving as his backdrop. "That would be prudent. Please proceed, Lady Furina." His azure eyes swept over the pots and basins in the corner—clearly kitchen implements. "Also, regarding the specific production and distribution process of the 'holy relic,' I shall require a thorough explanation." There was the faintest, almost imperceptible pause when he said the word "holy relic," as if he were internally redefining the term.
"Of course! Leave it to me!" Furina sprang to life, launching into a world-building lecture so disjointed and haphazard it could only be described as utter chaos.
"First off! This place is called the Douluo Continent! We're currently somewhere around... some little broken-down city in the Star Luo Empire, I think? Doesn't matter!" She flailed her arms. "The people here mainly fight using things called 'martial souls'... oh right, you're also my martial soul now, though you can't fight at the moment... that probably sounds a bit weird, don't take it to heart! Martial souls can be hoes, swords, animals—some people even have steamed buns as their martial souls! All sorts of weird stuff, really! Since technically anything, even parts of the body, could manifest as martial souls," she added, recalling the bizarre examples from the original story.
"At age six, kids can go through an awakening ceremony—provided there's someone to help them with it, of course," Furina spread her hands. "Everyone has a martial soul, but not everyone has soul power, and only those with soul power can become soul masters. The awakening rate?" She clicked her tongue. "It's like pulling on a gacha banner with no pity system whatsoever."
"And soul masters..." she curled her lip. As someone who had seen the combat power of Teyvat and had once (arguably) possessed a fair bit of strength herself, her assessment was rather uncharitable.
"Honestly? They're not really that impressive. Even the so-called Titled Douluo... they're alright, I suppose? With a burst they might level a hilltop? But their staying power seems lacking. Probably can't match some of the stronger Vision holders from our side in sheer destructive capability. But what can you do—they're the main fighting force of this world. Best of a mediocre bunch, I guess."
She pressed on, explaining the core mechanics of soul masters. "Their main way of getting stronger is hunting soul beasts to obtain soul rings. Without a soul ring, they can't even use their skills—can you believe it? Like, the most basic first soul skill might just be 'Entangle' or 'Charge' or something like that." At this, Furina nearly burst out laughing. "It feels... a bit primitive, doesn't it? Like a new adventurer who can only basic attack until they kill a monster and it drops a skill book."
"Soul ring colors correspond to age: white for ten-year, yellow for hundred-year, purple for thousand-year, black for ten-thousand-year, red for hundred-thousand-year. The higher, the stronger. Though I hear hundred-thousand-year soul beasts are pitifully rare—red soul rings are basically the stuff of legends." She gestured at the now-invisible spots beneath her feet where her three soul rings had been, a smug look crossing her face. "But someone like me, a food-type soul master starting out purple-purple-black... I'm practically heaven's chosen one! After all, I am the Water God. Accomplishing with ease what mortals find impossible—it's only to be expected." She completely missed Neuvillette's faintly furrowed brow, as if he were trying to puzzle out the logical relationship between "Water God" and "food-type martial soul."
Neuvillette listened in silence, diligently extracting key points from the chaotic torrent of information. "Soul rings... are obtained from hunting soul beasts?" He latched onto a key phrase, his tone carrying a note of inquiry.
"Yes, yes! Soul beasts are... creatures with soul power. They come in all shapes and sizes—grass, trees, lions, tigers, even a whole bunch that look like stitched-together abominations could all be soul beasts." Furina gestured wildly. "But my soul rings were divinely bestowed! No fighting to the death required! Eco-friendly and hassle-free!" Granted, it was the system that had bestowed them, but facts aside—hadn't Furina herself put in effort (by accepting the missions)? Besides, since she was already the Pope of the Church of the Water God and the Water God herself, calling it "divine bestowal" was perfectly logical.
"Soul masters are ranked: Soul Scholar, Soul Master, Soul Grandmaster, Soul Elder, Soul Ancestor, Soul King, Soul Emperor, Soul Sage, Soul Douluo, and Titled Douluo." She counted on her fingers, getting somewhat tangled toward the end. "Oh right, and above all that, there's the legendary god level."
"This world has gods?" Neuvillette pressed, curiosity piqued.
"It does, it does," Furina nodded, then waved her hand dismissively, her tone carrying a hint of subtle mockery. "But honestly? They're just alright. Not quite on Barbatos's level... Though our Church of the Water God doesn't have many soul masters yet, I firmly believe that under my magnificent leadership—with your assistance, of course—we'll rise to the pinnacle of the world and unify the continent!" She began daydreaming about the future, completely oblivious to the flicker of an unspoken question in Neuvillette's eyes—something along the lines of are you entirely sober?
She rambled on, diving into the geopolitical landscape. "Right now, there are four main empires on the continent: the Heavenly Soul Empire, the Dou Ling Empire, the Star Luo Empire, and the Sun Moon Empire—whose tech tree is a little off-kilter but still crushes the other nations technologically."
"Oh, and there's also Shrek Academy. It's technically an academy, but it has serious military force and isn't subject to any nation's jurisdiction—so it's practically a small country in its own right. Something about seven gods emerging from there ten thousand years ago. Not the same as the Seven, mind you. Anyway, nowadays it's the dream destination for every soul master. Tuition is absurdly expensive and you need recommendation letters from city lords and the like. The competition inside is brutal. As for actual teaching and education..." She tilted her head. "Personally, I suspect they don't teach much value. If they aren't actively ruining their students, that's probably the best one can hope for."
She placed particular emphasis on "soul engineers"—a concept brought by the Sun Moon Empire that had risen to prominence over the last few millennia. "They're the researchers and weapons inventors. They make soul tools—everything from small lighting and heating devices to full-scale war fortresses. But I feel like their whole approach is a bit off. Kind of... overly reliant on external objects and energy sources? Everything seems to require rare metals or something. Not nearly as practical as handing out cakes!"
"Anyway," she caught her breath, summarizing, "in this world, soul masters are the elite! For a commoner to awaken is harder than reaching the heavens! So the core mission of our Church of the Water God is—helping people awaken! At the very least... giving them hope! And handing out cakes on the side to improve their lives a little!" She finally circled back to the main topic, introducing her "great enterprise."
"Our Church of the Water God—currently, our main operations are helping the children of common folk who've reached the proper age to try awakening, and distributing cakes imbued with the Water God's blessing! They can cure minor ailments and aches! Look!" A flash of white light in her palm, and a fresh strawberry cake appeared. "Voilà! This is the basic model—my first soul skill, 'Healing Buttercream Cakelet'! Quickly restores some stamina and treats minor cuts and bruises. Effect-wise... roughly equivalent to a decent first-aid kit?"
She proceeded to demonstrate the second and third soul skills. "This is the 'Swift Blueberry Cake.' After eating, it boosts movement speed by about sixty percent for roughly the duration of a meal. And this is the 'Purifying Fruit Cake.' It dispels common negative statuses—poison, weakness, that sort of thing—and gives a bit of an energy lift afterward, temporarily boosting all attributes by about twenty percent. The effect only lasts a short while, though." Her descriptions were decidedly casual, the numbers rough estimates. As long as it worked, that was enough.
Neuvillette stared at the assorted cakes—each emitting its own sweet fragrance, each distinctly shaped—and fell silent for a moment. "So," he said at last, "the propagation of faith for the 'Church of the Water God' relies primarily upon... the gifting of these desserts with special properties?" His tone suggested he was confirming a gravely serious judicial case detail, even if the content remained somewhat surreal.
"Exactly! Food is the bedrock of the people!" Furina declared with righteous confidence. "They eat my cakes, feel real tangible benefits, and are moved to gratitude for the Water God's grace—doesn't the faith just naturally follow? Simple, direct, effective! And look," she lowered her voice, "our doctrine is all about harmony. No fighting, no brawling—just handing out cakes and helping people. Isn't that lovely? Far nobler than those sects and clans constantly warring and scrambling for resources!"
Neuvillette seemed to spend some time digesting this religious model centered around food distribution and auxiliary awakening assistance. When he finally spoke, he cut straight to the heart of the matter. "In that case—the organizational structure of the church, the management of the congregant registry, records of resource distribution, dispute mediation procedures, and... the production cost accounting and efficiency optimization for the 'holy relic'—how are these currently being handled?"
"Uh..." Furina's expression froze. Her eyes began to drift. Her fingers twirled a strand of hair unconsciously. "Well... haha... about that... currently... for the time being... it's mainly handled by yours truly! Personally! By feel! With Mademoiselle Chevaleyda and the others helping out now and then..." Her voice grew quieter and quieter, utterly devoid of conviction.
Neuvillette understood. He surveyed the completely unplanned courtyard, the random piles of miscellaneous items, and made a preliminary assessment of the extent of this "personally" and "by feel." This was almost equivalent to having no management whatsoever.
"I see," he nodded, saying nothing more. But his eyes had already taken on a certain unmistakable glint—the look of a man who saw a situation in dire need of systematic reform.
As it happened, the noise from outside was growing louder—the sound of a crowd gathering. It was the daily influx of believers coming to receive their cakes, along with adults from nearby villages bringing their children to attempt soul master awakening.
Furina smacked her forehead. "Right! Perfect timing! I'll introduce you to everyone! Give you a grand debut!" Without waiting for his consent, she grabbed Neuvillette by the sleeve (she didn't dare grab his hand directly) and tugged him toward the door.
The moment she pushed open the creaking, battered wooden door, the dark mass of the crowd outside filled their vision. Mostly sallow, gaunt commoners in patched-up clothes, their eyes holding a mixture of hope and a touch of numbness. When they saw Furina emerge, a stir rippled through them—cries of "Lady Pope!" and "Water God's blessing!" rang out.
And then their eyes landed on the figure behind her.
The noise died as if a hand had clamped down on every throat at once.
Everyone stared, wide-eyed, at the man standing beside their Pope.
His attire was beyond anything they had ever seen—sumptuous, exquisite, otherworldly. His long white hair was groomed to perfection. His features were strikingly handsome, yet cold as sculpted marble. His azure eyes swept over the crowd with a natural, breathtaking authority. Merely standing there, he created such an overwhelming contrast with the dilapidated surroundings and the ragged crowd that it was as if a god had stumbled into a slum.
The silence was deafening.
Furina cleared her throat, striving to look solemn. "Ahem! Faithful children of the Water God! Today I present to you a new companion! This is Monsieur Neuvillette! He is... my special envoy! He has come specifically to assist me in managing church affairs and helping everyone! Henceforth, if you have any matters and cannot find me, you may also report them to him! Monsieur Neuvillette is the very embodiment of fairness and reason!"
She stole a glance at Neuvillette as she spoke, terrified he might undermine her on the spot.
Neuvillette's face betrayed little emotion. He merely stepped forward half a pace, inclined his head slightly toward the utterly silent crowd, and spoke in that steady, low voice of his, carrying clearly to every ear: "Good day to you all. I am Neuvillette. Henceforth, I shall assist Lady Furina in handling the church's internal affairs. Should you have any petitions, you may state them in an orderly manner."
No superfluous words. But that overwhelming presence—that indescribable, solemn authority so utterly unlike that of any soul master or noble they had ever encountered—left the crowd stunned for several seconds. Then, all at once, an eruption of even more heated discussion.
"An envoy of the Water God?" "Good heavens... such bearing..." "He looks so formidable..." "Even the Lord Envoy has come to help us?"
There was skepticism, there was awe, but more than anything, there was a strange surge of excitement and anticipation. They didn't fully understand, but this Lord Envoy looked undeniably reliable! Far more so than their occasionally erratic Pope!
Watching the believers' reactions, Furina let out a breath of relief, mingled with a touch of smugness. She nudged Neuvillette beside her, whispering, "See? Everyone's so welcoming! From now on, maintaining order during cake distribution, keeping the registry, handling the accounts, mediating disputes—I'm leaving it all in your hands!"
Neuvillette gazed at the emotionally charged crowd, their eyes burning with fervent hope, and paused. Assisting in the management of a religious organization whose core activities revolved around distributing cakes with special effects and attempting to facilitate awakenings—this was, without doubt, a duty he had never once envisioned in the long span of his existence.
But he nodded nonetheless. A trace of resignation—barely perceptible—flitted through his azure eyes, along with perhaps the faintest hint of a sense of responsibility.
"Very well," he replied. His gaze had already shifted to the queue, which was beginning to grow disorderly. "Let us commence today's affairs. Everyone, please maintain order and proceed in sequence."
The Chief Justice's cross-dimensional re-employment began with managing the line for cake distribution and awakening attempts. His very first task, as it turned out, would likely be figuring out exactly how many of those children clamoring for awakening actually met the age requirement—given that some of them didn't look a day over four years old...