At dusk, a clinic in Layton City closed its doors. The clinic was operated by a priest and had been in operation for a long time in Layton City. No one thought there was anything strange about the clinic unless they pushed open the secret door and descended the hidden staircase step by step. The underground area of the clinic was not the dark room one would imagine, on the contrary, it was filled with candles. The walls were covered with reliefs, and statues of deities were placed in the most prominent places. The statue of the goddess holding a candlestick made the basement appear solemn. The scent of disinfectant in the clinic unexpectedly did not destroy the solemnity of the place. It was even more sacred than places like monasteries, where theology was specifically studied. However, a pen placed on a table disrupted the atmosphere of the basement. These pens were the same type as those seen in the monastery and, upon closer inspection, had a faint smell of blood. With a careful sniff, you could even detect the unique scent of disinfectant in the clinic. A middle-aged priest with a stooped back stood beside an operating table. His forehead had thinning hair, and his eyebrows were longer than the average person's. The strange wrinkles on his skin not only did not make him look terrifying, but also added a touch of gentleness to his appearance. And on the operating table lay a priestess. Her eyelashes trembled slightly, but she was not afraid; instead, she seemed slightly excited. "Priest, will I soon be able to see the radiance of Etemira?" she asked eagerly. The light above her head was so dazzling, but she didn't mind. "Of course," the priest's voice was incredibly soft, so soft that people would subconsciously indulge in it. "Once you have felt the warmth of god, you will naturally be able to see the radiance of god." The priest took out a syringe with a thick, dark red liquid flowing inside it. This was the blood of Etemira, as the priest called it. When this tube of blood was injected into the veins, the priestess would feel that "warmth." Tightening her wrist made the veins more visible, and wiping the injection site with iodine solution, the needle finally entered the vein. However, there was ultimately something different from usual injections. That was when the injection was administered, the entire body of the priestess was tightly strapped to the operating table with a belt. With each push of the syringe, the priest's smile became even more gentle. No screams, no cries of agony; the priestess opened her eyes wide, staring at the light above her head. Her whole body kept trembling, but the belt held her tightly to the operating table, not allowing her to move even a centimeter. "We are all lambs of Etemira, his beloved lambs." "The lambs of Etemira are innocent and sacred." The priest was almost biting the priestess's earlobe as he spoke. "Do you feel anything?" "I do, even if I close my eyes, I can still see the light," the priestess slowly closed her eyes. At this moment, all her doubts about the priest vanished. It was miraculous. Even though she should have been plunged into darkness when she closed her eyes, she felt her "vision" being enveloped by a beautiful halo. It wasn't the kind of madness-inducing hallucination she had imagined, nor was it extreme pain. In short, she believed she had transcended. She agreed to lie on this operating table because she had once seen the miracles performed upon the chosen ones. At first, she was a bit nervous, but the priest's gentle voice put her at ease. Now, after the "blood of Etemira" entered her body, that abnormally calm feeling dispelled all her doubts about the priest. However, she didn't even consider what caused the intense trembling of her body just now. Or rather, she selectively ignored this fact. After the injection was completed, the priest calmly put away the syringe and stopped the bleeding for this exceptional priestess. It was only after about fifteen minutes that he helped her remove the restraints. Throughout the entire process, the priestess had no questions and quietly accepted everything. "I feel fine, but I can't pinpoint any specific changes," said the priestess as she sat up, examining her body. "You will soon find out," the priest still had that gentle smile, but his hand was now on a nearby iron knife.Under the horrified gaze of the priestess, the priest swiftly plunged the dagger into her heart.

The priest acted as if he hadn't done anything just now, calmly pulling out the knife and returning it to its original place.

The blood on the knife was incredibly sticky, with traces of sewer residue.

The priestess turned pale with fear, instinctively reaching for the wound where blood was flowing.

Wound?

When she touched the area where her clothes were stained with blood, she was shocked to find that there was no wound at all.

Suddenly, she realized that she didn't even feel any pain.

It was as if the knife hadn't stabbed her at all.

"I told you, Lady Etimira's lamb is innocent and pure."

"If it's innocent, it won't be punished."

"Illness, injury, and so on, are all punishments for guilt." The priest, while packing his things, spoke kindly, "Since you are innocent, you will naturally no longer suffer these punishments."

"Priest..." The priestess was overjoyed and unconsciously added "sir" to address the priest.

"I know you're excited, but please remain calm." The priest's voice remained gentle, calming her down.

"Alright, please take a rest outside."

"Okay." The priestess felt that she needed some rest as well.

Although her body was fine and there were no problems, she still felt mentally exhausted.

The priest supported her and walked out of the room step by step.

Praise Lady Dawn, another blessed one has been born.

---

At night, the priest was still in the underground of the clinic.

He filled a pen refill with some blood that he didn't know belonged to whom.

That blood pen in the priest's room was made by the priest himself.

And the operating table, just one meter away from him, was covered in blood.

For every blessed believer, the priest would give them a pen like this as a commemorative gift.

The excellent cleric from earlier also received the same gift from him.

There was no danger, just a pure gift, although others might find it extreme.

As the night fell, the sense of sacredness and solemnity gradually dissipated in this basement.

The candlelight still shone brightly, but instead of warmth, it now felt eerie.

"Ka--"

"Ka--"

Strange sounds came from behind the candlelit walls.

"Ah, why are you so noisy? You're usually very quiet." The priest paused his work, his tone tinged with a hint of helplessness.

And at the same time, a faint sense of fondness.

He circled around the wall and opened a locked cabinet.

Inside the cabinet was a deformed lamb with only one front leg, one hind leg, and one eye.

The priest pulled out this malformed lamb from the cabinet, his face showing a warm smile.