The God of Wealth's appeal to the masses is obvious, and the apostles quickly developed useful downlines, expanding their missionary scope to the outer layers. While busy, they responded to the increasingly frequent requests from twelve people.
This made Snorri feel even more stressed. When the demands increased exponentially, his spirit and strength could no longer hold back.
In order to avoid becoming a humanoid wishing machine on call around the clock, Snorri decisively delegated power. He followed the operation of the Great God Slaanesh of Dragoncliff Castle and placed his power on the statue and let the Twelve Apostles allocate and use it themselves.
In order to motivate them, Snorri will adjust the share of available divine power in the next cycle based on the growth trend of faith in the parish in this cycle. Of course, since the situation in different parishes is different, the current allocation can only increase but not decrease.
In the rare calm, Snorri quietly set off to the nearest Arabi diocese for a private visit, disguised as an ogre to inspect the missionary situation. This is a country composed of deserts and oases, and the geographical conditions have caused them to be scattered into small city-states.
It only nominally respects the rule of the Great Sultan.
There is no doubt that chaos has become the main color here under the ravages of the Chivalry War. Many wealthy cities along the coast are occupied by knights, while inland areas near the Land of the Dead have a large number of necromancers waiting for opportunities.
"Submit your body and mind to the great God of Wealth and Oaths, and those who respect God's revelations will enjoy glory and wealth in life, and can go to His paradise after death!"
After the impassioned sermon, the guy sitting cross-legged on the altar slapped the magic lamp in front of him, and a large ball of dazzling gold powder spewed out from the lamp mouth, condensing into a palace that seemed real and illusory in mid-air, attracting an array of believers below.
A burst of fervent prayer.
This is the apostle who preached in Arabi. His name was Suleiman, and he was a descendant of the fallen caliph. When he was young, he was sent to learn the local djinn magic of Arabi, but his talent and pockets were limited and he failed to learn it. Later, he changed his career as a
Alchemist - Half chemical, half fraud, until he joined Snorri's army.
As a native Arabi, Suleiman did a good job in localizing Snorri. He gave himself the popular title of "Golden Grand Arcanist" and based his work in a small city along the Bandit Fjord.
own work.
This small town is the base of a group of butcher pirates. They were originally a caravan from Haimen Pass. They took the butcher's oath because they lost their goods in a storm. Since they still have connections with their homeland, they know who Suleiman represents.
They were too embarrassed to enter the halls of the ancestors and gods, but they found a chance to save the country. These butcher pirates not only became Suleiman's first followers, but also provided a lot of necessary support for his preaching.
"Well done, I am very optimistic about you! Here is a missionary secret book. Study it carefully and practice it. If the effect is good, I will let others learn advanced techniques from you."
I found that preaching in this world is still stuck in the traditional stage of one person talking at the top, and a bunch of people listening below, and at most sprinkling water and anointing people with oil. It is difficult to provide interaction and immersion. After all, Snorri has not been able to hold back the magic of his previous life.
Bring the brainwashing stuff here.
"Do you understand? Come on, move and understand the applause!"
"Bah bang bang!"
Before he could get over the shock caused by his master's sudden appearance, the Supreme Arcanist started shaking his head and applauding under Snorri's command. What he didn't know was that there was another money-grabbing dance behind him.
A bunch of swiping cards are waiting for him.
To be honest, this approach has a certain scientific basis. Creating a crazy atmosphere can reduce the audience's chance to think clearly and make them more engaged under the influence of the surrounding people. However, whether it is too advanced in this world needs to be experimentally determined.
"Nandina is the real paradise. His Majesty Snorri is here..."
"Have some hardships now, and wait until Bafeng Mountain is recovered..."
While Suleiman was practicing hard to succeed, several Bordero steam sailing ships flying the Trident flag were sailing in the wind on the Sea of Tilea. The passengers below the deck were grouped on the left and right, drinking and chatting to pass the time on the sea.
time.
"Old man, those stories about His Majesty Snorri that the bards in the tavern tell every day, are there any differences for you?"
"Yes, doesn't your son serve in Plateau Fort?"
"Yesterday you also said that you had a great conversation with several elders of the Drazkrad clan!"
Several young dwarves were booing around an old man. Most of these people came from around the Dome Mountains. The Lord of Lagos also made great efforts for his daughter and son-in-law. For the sake of convenience, he contacted Bordeaux's fleet to transport immigrants.
"Well, you little beards have harmed His Majesty Snorri, the demigod, wise and powerful man. Needless to say, I think he has done two things poorly in recent years. Do you want to hear about it?"
The old dwarf's words were so shocking that half of the passengers in the cabin gathered together. As the new demigod Snorri was in the limelight, who wouldn't want to hear rare negative news? Soon the table was filled with beer and appetizers.
"Is this the first thing? Our little princess of Tongshan Castle, who doesn't know that she is the most beautiful and intelligent among the three sisters? Even the ice wall for thousands of years is ashamed to reflect her face! His Majesty Snorri has the heart to teach beauty
It’s so sad.”
"Oh, indeed!"
"Tsk!"
As soon as these words came out, they resonated with each other. How many young tribesmen felt uneasy when they were cruelly rejected by the goddess they didn't even dare to think about.
"The second issue is about employment. Although his Prime Minister Tiemian Balin is young, he is already known as the two wise men of the mountains together with Elder Ruben, who has three generations of auxiliary father, brother and nephew in the Horn Castle.
Well deserved. But that’s not the case with the generals.”
"You mean the one chosen by the God of War?"
"I heard he disappeared?"
"That's right, what's that guy's last name? Grinnison, right? One man and one ax stepped into the Chaos Wasteland and he hasn't returned yet. The title of champion of the Southland has been vacant for several years."
"There is such a thing. My cousin said it when he came back to visit relatives the year before last year. Isn't this definitely gone? Many people advised His Majesty Snorri to establish another champion, but he refused."
"This is such a big deal, don't you think that when you meet a cat, a dog or an old man, you have to use your storm hammer to greet him personally? How many people in this world are worthy of facing the power of a demigod!"
Those who dared to open up the banks of the Poisoned Water River under Belegar were all experienced warriors. This topic immediately triggered divergent discussions. From whether Gotrek's strength was sufficient to whether there was anyone more suitable than him, the cabin was filled with saliva for a while.
Flying horizontally.
"Legend has it that he was spotted by the god Grimnir when he killed a mouse. Why should he be called the enemy of the mountains? I killed eighty mice if not a hundred! Why didn't he have such luck? Could it be?
Did he look away?"
"You fart!"
Suddenly, a dull, thunderous voice sounded from outside the discussion circle. End of this chapter