1885, I came to save Greece

Chapter 199 The Faith of Words

The study was so quiet that you could hear the candlelight flickering.

Constantine looked at Callinicus, the ascetic priest, who now exuded a sharpness like a drawn sword.

The moment he had been waiting for had finally arrived.

But he didn't agree immediately. He came out from behind the table and personally poured Callinicus a glass of water.

"Father, do you know what you're saying?" Constantine's tone was calm, devoid of any emotion. "The borders of Thessaly are now hell on earth. There are no warm churches, no devout believers, only endless killing and death."

He handed the water glass to Callinikos.

"Those thugs are not lost sheep that can be redeemed by scriptures. They are servants of the devil, and their knives will not hesitate for a moment because of the cross on your chest."

"If you go, you'll face a nine-out-of-ten chance of death. In fact, you'll die a more humiliating and painful death than an ordinary soldier."

Every word Constantine wrote depicted the most real and brutal aspects of war. He was testing, and also confirming.

Callinicus did not take the glass of water.

He simply looked at Constantine calmly, a faint smile even appearing on his lips.

"Your Highness, to die for the Lamb who protects the Lord is the highest honor a clergyman can attain in this world."

His voice contained no fervor, no passion, only a steadfastness as firm as a rock.

Constantine stared at him for a full ten seconds.

He knew he had found it.

He found the person who could breathe life into this war.

"Alright." Constantine put his water glass back down heavily on the table. "I approve your request. What do you need? People? Money? Or weapons?"

"I need people," Callinicus said without hesitation, "but not soldiers. I need a group of true servants, just like me, willing to give everything for God."

That afternoon, a secret gathering was taking place at the Athens Cathedral.

Callinicus stood on the pulpit. Below him sat dozens of young priests who had performed best and were the most steadfast in their faith during the previous church reform movement. They were all handpicked by Callinicus; they were among the purest and most combative members of the church.

Callinicus did not write a lengthy treatise.

He simply read the report from Thessaly aloud to the public.

When he uttered the details of "the icon being whipped" and "the priest being burned alive," the entire church fell into a deathly silence.

Then came the suppressed, heavy breathing and angry growls.

"Now, the devil is at our doorstep, slaughtering our fellow citizens and blaspheming our faith!"

Callinicus's voice, like a resounding bell, echoed beneath the church's dome.

"I will go to Thessaly to confront those demons. I don't know if I will return. But my cross will be planted there until that land is completely purified from the demons' hands!"

He opened his arms.

"Who is willing to walk with me to fulfill the most sacred duty that God has given us?!"

"I do!"

The first to stand up was the youngest priest, his face flushed red with excitement.

"I do!"

Count me in!

One by one, figures stood up. The same flame burned in their eyes.

In less than ten minutes, there wasn't a single person left sitting in the audience.

An hour later, a peculiar group gathered at the back gate of the palace.

They took off their ornate black robes and put on the same coarse cloth shirts and trousers as ordinary farmers. They looked like a group of farmers preparing to go on a long journey.

The only thing that could identify them was a huge, rough cross made of ordinary wood, which was tied around each of their necks with hemp rope.

Constantine personally saw them off.

Looking at this "army" of dozens of priests, he was overwhelmed with mixed emotions. He knew he was opening Pandora's box. Faith is the most powerful weapon, but also the easiest to backfire.

But he had no other choice.

He approached Callinicus and handed him a power of attorney bearing the royal seal.

"Father, once you get there, all military operations will be under Captain Metaxas's command. But in all other matters, you have full authority."

Callinikos accepted the authorization letter and nodded.

"Go," Constantine said, looking at the "holy legion" about to head to hell. "May the Lord be with you."

A few days later, when this "battlefield priests' group" arrived at the command post on the Thessalian border, it attracted everyone's attention.

Metaxas and his officers emerged from the command post, their faces filled with astonishment and bewilderment as they looked at the group of "reinforcements" dressed in peasant clothes but with crosses hanging around their necks.

"The...reinforcements His Highness sent?" An adjutant whispered in Metaxus's ear in disbelief, "Captain, what are they here for? To give us their last prayers?"

The officers let out a low chuckle. They were professional soldiers, trusting only their guns and cannons. In their eyes, these unarmed priests were less than a woman on the battlefield.

Metaxas didn't laugh. He simply frowned, sizing up the tall, thin priest at the head of the group. He sensed a unique aura emanating from this priest.

However, he also did not believe that these people could play any role in the battle.

Callinicus seemed oblivious to the officers' disdainful glances. He didn't even bother to inform Metaxas of his identity.

He simply asked calmly, "Sir, which village is currently experiencing the lowest morale?"

Metaxas paused, then instinctively replied, "The village of Crying Sheep Valley to the west. They were attacked yesterday, losing five men—half the village's population—and this morning they're demanding to surrender their weapons and leave."

Thank you.

Callinicus nodded, and with his priests, turned and headed toward the village of Weeping Sheep.

Not a single extra word was said.

Metaxus watched their departing figures, his doubts deepening. He thought for a moment, then said to his adjutant, "Follow them and see what they're up to."

Kuyanggu Village.

The entire village was shrouded in an atmosphere of despair and death. The cries of women, the arguments of men, and the screams of children in fright mingled together.

The villagers gathered in front of the village chief's house, their emotions running high.

"Stop fighting! If we keep fighting, we'll all die here!"

"Hand over the guns! We just want to live!"

Just as the village was on the verge of collapse, Callinicus and his priests walked in.

They walked straight to the center of the village, to the ruins of the church that had been burned down to just a few walls.

Callinicus stood on a charred beam. He said nothing, but simply raised the huge wooden cross high in front of his chest.

The villagers' arguing gradually subsided. All eyes were drawn to the strange priest who had suddenly appeared.

Callinicus's voice echoed above the ruins. The voice, initially low, possessed a strange penetrating power, clearly reaching everyone's ears.

"I ask you, what are you afraid of?!"

"Afraid of death?!"

He scanned the terrified faces, his voice suddenly rising like thunder!

"Look around you! Look at this temple that has been burned by the devil! Look at your brothers who have been slaughtered! Do you think that if you lay down your weapons, the devil will let you go?!"

"No! They will only take your land, defile your wives and daughters, and then, like slaughtering livestock, slit your throats!"

His words were like sharp knives, piercing the hearts of every villager.

"Farmers! Soldiers!"

Callinicus raised the cross high, his voice deafening.

"Whom do you think you're fighting for? For the land? For bread? No! I tell you, you're not!"

"Every shot you fire with your rifle, every time you pull the trigger, is a declaration of war against those blasphemous devils! You are not protecting farmland, but this sacred Garden of Eden that God has given you!"

"You are not fighting for yourselves! You are warriors of God! You are the army of Christ! Every drop of your blood will become a crown of glory in Heaven!"

"Rise up! Take up your weapons! Wash away the shame of this temple with the blood of the devil! Offer the heads of our enemies to our fallen brothers!"

"This battle is for God!"

boom!

These words struck like a thunderbolt from the heavens, resounding in the minds of all the villagers.

The confusion, fear, and exhaustion in their hearts were utterly shattered in that instant by a more intense and powerful emotion!

Protecting one's home and country has been given a sacred meaning.

A young man, his face streaked with tears, was the first to kneel down, shouting, "Fight for God!"

"Fight for God!"

Hundreds and thousands of villagers, like dry tinder that has been ignited, knelt on the ground, letting out a deafening roar. The flames that had been extinguished in their eyes were reignited, and more intensely and frantically than ever before!

They wiped away their tears, rushed home, and retrieved the rifles they had hidden. Their eyes became incredibly determined, even fanatical.

On a small hillside outside the village, Metaxas witnessed the entire process through binoculars.

He felt his throat was a little dry.

He saw those farmers who had been crying and shouting to surrender just a second ago, but now they were like golems infused with souls, transformed into the most fearless warriors.

He put down his binoculars and, for the first time, gained the most direct and terrifying understanding of the "psychological weapon" that Constantine had described.

He turned his head and looked at the figure standing on the ruins like a god, and an indescribable sense of awe welled up in his heart.