A Guide to Becoming a God Starting from a Monastery

As far as Thomas knew, even if he didn't expand his territory, at least he held on to it.

Less than a year was not enough time for everyone to develop emotions such as trust and dependence on him, but it was enough to get rid of many stupid and arrogant ideas.

This man did have some ability. His rise to power wasn't entirely a fluke.

Looking at the outsiders breaking in, "Rat" Haakon had a complicated expression, as if he was angry, but more like he was afraid.

His hand was on a drawstring, and if he pulled it, the alarm would go off.

"Hello again," Thomas said. "Please forgive me for coming uninvited, but..."

"Rat" Haakon's gaze shifted from Thomas to the face of the blasphemous knight behind him.

"Boss...is there any trouble?" A voice interrupted Thomas.

A young man leaned halfway out of a side door on the side of the desk. He didn't understand the situation in the office for a moment, so he asked the boss what to do.

Haakon the Mouse had been panting heavily since a while ago, but now he waved to the young man, signaling him to go out first.

The young man shrank back, looked at the two uninvited guests who came in, and closed the office door hesitantly.

"Sit down first." He managed to squeeze out these words.

Thomas sat down on the sofa without hesitation, but the Blasphemous Knight stood beside him, his hand on the hilt of his Damascus sword.

"Sir Sir Thomas, thank you for visiting my humble abode. I wonder if you have any advice for me."

“Rat,” Haakon said. He twisted his neck stiffly, trying to reach up to hold the back of his neck, but accidentally touched the wound on his palm where the sharp pencil point had pierced his face.

"Simply put, I'm here to apologize..."

"You came here uninvited, and your apology doesn't seem sincere at all."

"I've always believed that a true apology isn't expressed through words," Thomas said.

"Oh, I agree with that. I wonder what Sir Thomas wants to apologize for? How will he apologize?"

Haakon the Rat still remembers what happened last time.

Perhaps I hadn't thought of it beforehand, but once I understood it afterwards, all of Thomas's calculations immediately became clear and obvious.

Unfortunately, he had just ascended the throne and could not spare much energy to deal with Thomas for the time being, so he could only keep this grudge in mind for the time being.

"Ah, to put it simply, I underestimated you," said Thomas.

His arrogant attitude made "Mouse" Haakon want to jump up and strangle him to death on the sofa. However, when he saw the Blasphemy Knight's face again, which was so cold and indifferent that it made him feel like entering the uncanny valley, he suppressed this impulse.

A gentleman does not stand under a dangerous wall!

"So, this time, I have a proposal. Perhaps we can become... business partners?"

"Oh?" He opened his hand and looked at the small bloody hole in the palm of his hand. The broken pen tip also left a deep scar on the painted surface of the desk.

He had been writing a letter, and now it was a mess.

"It's a big deal," Thomas continued. "There's more to come."

"How big a deal is it?" The man opposite finally looked up.

"The first payment will probably be around 30,000 to 50,000 florins," said Thomas.

"more specific."

"I have a collection of loot to sell," Thomas said. "And you have the sales channels."

Selling stolen goods? But as a knight commander, where did Thomas get the stolen goods?

Could it be that this Knight Commander thinks he doesn't have enough money and is willing to do such a business that requires no capital?

Raiding and looting pagans? While it might seem normal for a Christian to do such a thing during wartime, this isn't wartime; it's peacetime. The Grand Duke's army won't let such a thing go unchecked!

"Your estimate is unreliable." If it was a business worth 50,000 florins, then "Mouse" Haakon would still be a little interested.

"I admit, I'm not a professional, so the valuation can be done by you guys."

The Rust Gang leader narrowed his eyes and looked at the Knight Commander in the distance.

"What do you want to do?" He was not the kind of man who believed in pie in the sky.

"Like I said, business." Thomas spread his hands harmlessly.

He stared at the other person's lips. If the other person refused...

Then maybe we’ll see blood today!

The Rust Gang must get a new boss. If the Rust Gang thinks this is not a good idea...

The Rust Gang itself can also be changed!

Thomas would no longer underestimate fate.

The waves of fate can swallow him up, so he must nip all tiny signs in the bud before the waves take shape.

Either turn the enemy into a friend, or eradicate the roots!

It's rare to have a good helper like the Blasphemy Knight around.

Haakon the Rat looked at Thomas's face and stared at it for several seconds.

"Okay!" he said. "When can I pick it up?"

"Let's set a suitable time and place, and agree on a signal." Thomas exhaled. "By the way, you'll need to provide someone who can keep their mouths shut. I don't want anyone else to know about this deal."

"of course."

"Happy cooperation!" Thomas stood up and extended a hand to the other party.

"Pleasant to work with."

Hold the two hands together.

The author says:

Author's words: Due to flood prevention and typhoon relief these days, updates will not be very stable.

I can only update once today, so I apologize in advance.

Chapter 133 Good Helper 3

A forest outside Kyiv.

There is a three-story building at the edge of the woods.

This was once a country tavern, serving passing merchants on the roadside. Unfortunately, perhaps due to rampant banditry or the deterioration of the road, the number of merchants decreased, and the tavern closed down.

Today it is just an abandoned building.

Two men in grey cloaks watched from a high point in the tavern.

Although this place is known as the "suburbs of Kyiv", it is actually quite far away from the city.

The target hasn't arrived yet.

"Boris," Thomas asked casually. "What are your thoughts on religion and faith?"

"Sly and sneaky." The Blasphemous Knight replied.

"What?" Thomas asked, puzzled. "You're saying that religious belief is a sneaky thing?"

"Yes."

"Why do you say that?"

"It's not fair," the Blasphemous Knight replied. "To God! To man!"

"Huh?" Thomas was puzzled. But no matter what, the Blasphemous Knight before him was a remarkable man who had converted and apostatized three times.

It wouldn't be surprising if it happens a few more times in the future.

"If I really do it, it will be unfair to God. If I can't do it, it will be unfair to people." The Blasphemous Knight rarely said a few more words.

"Ah, ah...it's true. Expecting peace with just verbal praise, happiness with just a small donation, and the blessing of heaven with just a little piety—if this deal is true, it's really unfair to God," Thomas said. "Only parents would give their children this kind of preference."

This is why all those awesome religions claim that gods created humans.

This is the only way to rationalize this unfairness.

After all, when it comes to what parents give to their children, there is no such thing as fairness or unfairness.

If gods are not in a parental position, then faith is a treacherous exchange for humans, where humans gain a great advantage and gods suffer a great loss.

The Blasphemous Knight said nothing, which was considered as his tacit agreement with Thomas's judgment.

"So, in your eyes, so-called faith is the shameless greed of the weak, a form of begging and a kind of luck in the face of fear?"

"Yes."

"So what do you believe in now? Or do you believe in nothing?"

"I don't know," the Blasphemous Knight said. "But I know my own weakness, incompetence, and limitations."

There are beings above humanity. At least in this world.

Although the Blasphemous Knight is emotionally indifferent and has few desires, he also yearns for that kind of existence.

It’s just that I can’t tell whether it is faith or not.

The sunset glow on the horizon had already disappeared, but in the last moment before it disappeared, Thomas saw a convoy in the distance.

More than ten large carts were loaded with goods shipped from afar.

The people in the convoy were dressed like Star-Moon Christians.

“They’re coming,” Thomas said, his hand on the hilt of his magic sword. The night wind blew through his fluttering cloak, gently ruffling his face. “They’re already here.”

He took a few deep breaths, feeling the air that was not yet stained with blood.

The intelligence was correct.

"Shall I start first?" asked the Blasphemous Knight.

Before the sound faded, his toes had already touched the window sill. The wind from his classical cloak blew the remaining gauze curtains into the air. At this moment, his movements suddenly stopped, without any abruptness, as if he had suddenly remembered something:

"Also," the Blasphemous Knight turned around and said, "there's another person outside the team. I might not be able to take care of him in time, and if I make any noise, he might notice."

"I understand. I'll keep an eye on that side," Thomas said. "If he finds us first, then we won't have to worry about anything."

After hearing what Thomas said, the Blasphemous Knight, whose expression never changed much, seemed to smile frivolously.

"Okay." The Blasphemous Knight seemed to be unable to stand steadily in the night wind. While still speaking, he leaned back and fell out of the window.

Three floors!

He fell as silently as a leaf and as elusive as a ghost.

Thomas had only learned the mystic art of Steel Soul and didn't know much about the abilities of other elite warriors. But he was now certain that the Blasphemous Knight must possess more than one extraordinary ability.

In other words, a variety of different abilities naturally arise from the same power.

Silver Judgment is already strong enough, but the Blasphemous Knight knows more than just Silver Judgment.

Someone had lit a bonfire in the distance. The dim, warm flames reminded me of home.

But at the edge of the flames, Thomas saw figures moving back and forth, and a silver light shone.

Silver Judgment!

The Blasphemous Knight's attack moves were as powerful as Thomas's submachine gun in his previous life, and it had unlimited ammunition.

Even better than a submachine gun, the Silver Judgment makes no sound.

There was no sound in the night.

Over there, a peaceful killing was unfolding.

A bonfire lit in one tent—a common feature of large tents. But this time, blood splattered across the hazy tent curtains. The marks were subtle, though, and if they were just stains left by long-term use, they were perfectly normal.

There were faint noises, so subtle it was hard to believe it was a battle. The Blasphemous Knight performed this task as if it were just a chore like dusting, a normal, everyday task. It wasn't understated, but it didn't sound loud or noisy either.

If the Blasphemy Knight attacks with all his strength, what kind of power will he possess?

Thomas couldn't help but think so. He had expected the Blasphemy Knight to win easily, but he had no idea it would be this easy.

But now is not the time to watch.

Thomas turned his attention to the other side. There, the Blasphemous Knight had mentioned, stood a man.