“An offering?” Sen asked, amused by the puny races’ strange customs.
“You offer money to the Church as an offer to the god, in place of fealty,” Kyle explained to him the concept.
Sen immediately saw an opportunity. “Minion Kyle—”
“Your Majesty can’t be a god,” his lackey said hastily, the quickest sentence he ever uttered, “Unless he reaches level 100.”
Sen sulked in disappointment. When he reached that level and became a god, he would ask his minions to build him a larger temple and a bigger statue than this Mithras. No way he would share it with other gods either.
“We have six human corpses outside, and that of a Manticore,” Kyle told the priest. “Will the church take them?”
“We will purify the corpses so they do not rise as spontaneous undead, then burn them free of charges,” sai
