Warrior Training System - Chapter 443
Chapter 443: A Place in Heaven?
“Fucking hell, man! Are you some kind of golem or what? Three Second Circle warriors yesterday, four today— that’s insane…” Lucas said, half laughing, half gaping as he helped Cassian out of the arena. He eased him onto one of the crates nearby, while four freshly branded slaves stood in line beside them, heads bowed.
Cassian chuckled, rubbing his shoulder. “They weren’t as tough as yesterday’s lot. That bastard Ragna gave me a harder time than all four of these combined.”
The new slaves bristled at that, their eyes flashing with fury— but none of them dared to speak. They’d already lost their freedom, and the only way to earn it back was either by breaking through… or if Cassian decided to grant it himself.
“But still, they wore me out. That’s enough for today,” Cassian said, stretching his arms. “You made enough from the bets to cover their price, right?”
Lucas grinned. Ever since Cassian’s streak of three wins yesterday, he’d started betting on the fights. Their deal was simple—if Cassian won and turned his opponents into slaves, Lucas would handle the wagers, and it’ll count toward the original deal — 2,500 gold coins per slave.
“More than enough,” Lucas said, nodding toward their squad captain, who was busy directing a few soldiers hauling heavy crates. “We kept your opponents’ odds real low—so low that a single silver could’ve earned ten gold if they somehow beat you. Meanwhile, yours were high enough that even when you win, the house still rakes in profit. Not exactly fair betting, but people still throw money at it.”
He smirked, adding, “Though it won’t stay that way for long. So, try to smash a few more tomorrow before the odds turn.”
“I’ll try…” Cassian muttered. Most of his wounds had already healed, and the stamina potion he’d just downed had finally killed the buzzing in his head. It wasn’t exactly pain—more like the edge of blacking out. From what he understood, it came from overusing his Domain. Even if someone had a strong will, that power still came from the mind—and like any other part of the body, it got exhausted when pushed too far.
As he was about to question his newly branded slaves, one of the earlier ones—Kirja—stepped forward, fidgeting slightly. Cassian let out a sigh.”Do you have somewhere to go?” he asked.
Kirja looked a little surprised but nodded. “The Cardinal is taking confessions today. I was hoping to get mine done soon.”
“Confessions?” Cassian raised a brow.
“Yeah, I forgot about that. I should’ve done mine too,” Lucas said, suddenly standing up in a rush. “You should too, Cassian—don’t wanna end up in hell, right?”
“What the fuck is he talking about?” Cassian asked, confused, as he watched Lucas sprint off. Kirja, already looking impatient, frowned and said, “You really don’t know? When you confess your sins to the Lord’s messenger, your sins are forgiven—and you earn a place in heaven.”
‘What a fucking load of bullshit?’ Cassian thought. He wanted to say it out loud but held back when he saw the others nodding earnestly.
“You four want to go too?” he asked.
All of them nodded. Cassian sighed. “Fine. Go. But meet me after—I’ve got a few questions for you. You too, Kirja.”
Kirja smiled, clearly relieved. Cassian leaned back, thinking for a moment, then his smirk slowly spread as a thought clicked. If Analisa was the one taking confessions today…
“Actually,” he added, voice low and amused, “bring me along too. I’ve got a few sins to confess myself.”
Soon, they arrived in front of Analisa’s quarters—the same place Cassian had been staying. A long line of people stretched across the hall, all waiting their turn.
“So, how exactly does this confession thing work? It’s my first time doing one,” Cassian asked, glancing around with mild curiosity.
Kirja stared at him, genuinely shocked. “You’ve never confessed before?” she said, almost disbelieving. If she were in his position—personally acquainted with the Cardinal—she’d be confessing every day just to secure herself a guaranteed place in heaven.
“Well, I’m not the kind of person who runs from responsibility,” Cassian said with a faint smile. “If I’ve done something, I’ll face it—punishment and all. Even if it means ending up in hell.”
Kirja blinked, both surprised and confused. “Then… why come for confession now?”
Cassian’s smirk deepened. “Like I said—I take responsibility. I’m here to do exactly that.” Then, tilting his head slightly, he added, “What about you? What are you here to confess?”
Kirja hesitated, stepping forward as the line moved. After a moment of silence, she said quietly, “It’s about the people I killed in battle…”
Cassian shook his head. “Oh, that’s not a sin,” he said simply.
Kirja frowned, puzzled. “It’s not?”
He shrugged. “Even gods kill people. Earthquakes, storms, plagues—innocent folks die all the time, and they’ve done nothing to deserve it. The ones you killed were trying to kill you first. That’s not sin—it’s survival.”
Kirja still looked troubled. For the people of the cult, confession was sacred—something they’d believed in for generations. Even if sins weren’t absolved, confessing was believed to lighten the soul. And taking a human life, no matter the reason, was considered a grave sin.
Cassian watched her conflicted expression and said quietly, “You don’t have to agree with me. But what I’m saying is this—living in this world isn’t really living. It’s surviving. You’re surviving. We all are. And when you killed those people, you did it to survive. That’s the nature of this world… and we follow it, whether we like it or not.”
He nudged her gently forward as the line moved again, then added, “Unless, of course, we somehow change the world—make it peaceful and happy.” He glanced around before lowering his voice. “And unlike the others here—you killed because you had to. The rest?” He tilted his chin toward the nearby cultists. “Most of them kill because they enjoy it. Don’t they?”
Kirja hesitated, glancing at the faces around her—fellow cultists she’d fought beside. She remembered the laughter, the grins, the excitement they showed during battles. He wasn’t wrong.
She didn’t feel her sin weighed as heavily now—but she still couldn’t fully agree with him. “You might be right,” she murmured softly, “but I’d still like to confess… don’t want to leave anything to chance.”