Witnessing the entire scene unfolding gave Tris countless thoughts and speculations.
Even so, he said nothing, did nothing—only continued to silently observe the charity food distribution taking place.
An hour quickly passed, and several hundred free meals had been handed out.
The massive pot of porridge was scraped clean.
Those who received it were deeply satisfied, their faces full of joy. With full stomachs and warmed bodies, they offered heartfelt thanks and praise.
It had been a long time since these people had eaten so well.
The porridge was not thin or watery, but rich with rice, beans, corn, and vegetables.
Even more astonishing, they could taste tender meat simmered into the porridge—a luxury beyond reach for them.
A hot, nourishing meal like this was something the poor here rarely had.
Yet the slums held far too many hungry souls.
Though hundreds of portions were served, many arrived late and missed out.
For those unlucky ones, the church offered another option: help clean and sweep the surrounding area, and they would be rewarded with fresh bread.
And not the cheap, hard black bread they were used to—but soft white loaves they had never tasted before.
Crowds joined in, even those who had already eaten porridge.
By the end of the morning, the area around the White Church's headquarters looked transformed.
No more piles of waste or garbage covering the ground. The foul stench around the area immediately lessened significantly.
As promised, bread was distributed, easing the hunger of the poor.
And so, the White Church earned genuine goodwill from the people here.
'The amount of food they prepared is astonishing. And they've already announced another charity event soon. Is this simply buying faith with money?' Tris pondered.
In this kingdom, devotion to Solvaris, the God of Light, was strong.
In this kingdom, devotion to Solvaris, the God of Light, is immensely strong. But for the poor, food is what matters most.
A single meal cannot make the devout abandon their faith, nor turn the faithless—or those who worship no god at all—into true believers of a deity they've only just heard of.
Yet it can at least remove hostility, leaving them willing to accept the existence of the White God's church.
"Perhaps that's only one of their goals." Tris continued to sink into thought.
* * * * * * * * * *
News of the White God's followers quickly reached the Solvaris Church.
The very next day, the priests convened an urgent meeting to assess the situation and decide how to respond.
"You've all heard the rumors. A group calling themselves followers of the White God has appeared in the slums."
"The White God? Wasn't there a recent report of a cult using that name?"
"According to investigations, the White God's church is officially active in Braxen. Likely the cult borrowed its name."
"In Braxen? Then they're expanding into Eldoria?"
"Very likely."
"Has Count Alistair given any opinion?"
"It seems he allowed them to operate under supervision."
"So they're moving legally."
"What are they doing besides preaching?"
"Distributing free food, building headquarters, cleaning the area."
"Food distribution? How much?"
"Reports say thousands of meals, with another event soon."
"Do they have that much money? And where is the food coming from?"
"Their supply sources are still under investigation. No information yet."
"The real question is what we should do. None of us wants rivals stealing influence, do we?"
"We must quickly identify the merchants working with them and… talk to them."
The priest stressed the words "talk to them." Everyone who heard it clearly understood the hidden meaning behind it.
"We should also revisit this matter with the Count," another added.
After listening in silence, Bishop Draven, elder head of Aldor's church, spoke:
"We must take stronger measures—warn our faithful of cults and psychological manipulation, and mobilize people to investigate directly."
The harshness of his words made several priests hesitate. One voiced concern:
"My lord, directly investigating another church—could that harm our image?"
Draven replied firmly:
"Orders from above are clear. We must act more strictly against unknown gods."
The priests murmured among themselves. Despite their worries, the command was absolute. In the end, they all agreed to comply.
* * * * * * * * * *
"My lady, unpleasant rumors about us have begun to spread."
The white‑haired attendant reported to Rose, who was calmly enjoying her afternoon tea.
Lifting the teacup to her lips, Rose slowly savored a small sip. Only after setting the cup back down did she leisurely ask in return:
"Rumors? That we're a cult with malicious schemes?"
"Exactly as you guessed."
Rose smiled serenely.
"If it's only rumors, they won't affect us."
After all, they didn't truly have a congregation here, so of course there was no fear of anyone being swayed by malicious rumors.
The black‑band workers under their control were nothing more than forced volunteers—free labor with no ability to resist or rebel.
And what about the poor who received food aid? Would they feel concern or fear? Surely they would.
But in reality, hunger would drive them to accept any free food offered. If one person refused, countless others would gladly take their place.
When starvation looms right before their eyes, who would care about distant matters? That was an unchangeable truth.
If Rose and her followers truly intended to take root here and compete for believers with the local church, it would be a serious problem requiring urgent action.
But from the start, that was never their goal.
What they sought was simply a declaration, a proclamation.
Whether positive or negative, the only thing that mattered was that more people heard the name of the White God.
To create influence, even infamy was better than obscurity.