"Remission is that door."

Carlen pointed forward, from the start till finish, he didn't even look at the woman standing in front of him.

The woman's body trembled and she bit her lips.

She was the only daughter of Greenmarch's Progenitor, and she had come here to request aide. Because the recent shaking of the Universe was stronger than normal ones, the Artifact they bought that prevented their world from being affected by it failed, which destroyed almost all of Greenmarch. About a million people had died and the most important buildings had crumbled.

More than half of the remaining population was gravely injured and the woman desperately needed the Faction's help to deal with this matter.

But…

Even then, the aide she was requesting here wasn't direct help.

What she wanted was Remission.

Because of the recent tragedy, Greenmarch did not have enough tribute for the Faction of Light but…

Things didn't seem like they were working.

After all, this wasn't her first time here. The last time she was sent to the Remission door, they only offered to reduce the Annual Tribute by a fifth and in return, they wanted twice the tribute for the next decade.

It was something Greenmarch could not accept because of their condition,

So she needed to do something.

Anything.

The fate of her World relied on her shoulders.

"…we do not have anything."

The woman spoke directly, not moving away as Carlen wanted her to. Seeing her odd reaction, Carlen frowned.

He finally raised his head, looking at the woman for the first time.

He, however, did not show his disgust, he just displayed a gentle but confused look, signalling the woman to explain.

"I went to Remission five days ago, they still asked for tribute, but we do not have that."

And she did.

"But if you do not give tribute, the Faction will not accept you."

Carlen spoke with a look that made it seem like he actually cared.

A complicated look appeared on the woman's face when she heard those words,

"…this is why I came to you.

I need your help."

She requested as she bowed her head, her body began to tremble, showing her desperation. After all, her World had to be part of the Light Faction.

If they left, aside from the fact that their safety would no longer be guaranteed, they would also need to return the artifacts the Light Faction gave to them, artifacts that… no longer existed because they were all destroyed in the recent tragedy.

Yes, before they were even attacked by the rest of the worlds around them, the Light Faction would be the one they would need to give answers to and…

They would have no way to get out of that situation alive.

Leaving the Faction was absolutely impossible.

Did she share this problem with the Light Faction?

She couldn't.

The Artifacts that were destroyed, were what her Grandmother begged for. While the Faction didn't charge for them, they absolutely had to return them if their world ever left the Light Faction. This was made clear on the very first day.

Something that, at that time, they did not care about since, well, why would they leave the Light Faction in the first place?

But…

Here she was…

Bowing in front of a man she did not know, hoping to find a way out.

"You do not have to do that.

Please raise your head."

Carlen spoke gently.

The woman slowly raised her head and then—

"If the mercy rate isn't working, you can take the pledge for service to Light.

Six centuries.

Pledge Greenmarch for service of Light for Six Centuries and the Tribute will be absolved."

"Six Centuries…?"

The woman muttered, staring at Calren with a complicated look on her face.

Pledging their world to the Service of Light for six centuries would mean that their people would be under the direct command of the Supreme Faction of Light. The higher ups of the Faction would be able to use it however they wanted.

Be it wanting to use them as mercenaries, soldiers, or even servants.

It was basically a slave contract written in golden words.

The woman wanted to clench her fists in frustration, it was clear that these bastards were using their misery for their benefit, but she knew acting out wouldn't do anything.

If anything, it might make things worse.

She secretly glared at Calren, the man smiled gently, as if he was the most noble, honest being in the Universe, a look that made the woman feel disgusted,

But in the end—

"We pledge to the service of Light."

In the end, she had to give in.

Being their slaves was better than being their enemies, this way, at least they would be alive. At her words, Calren showed no reaction, as if he was already expecting the same answer.

He then nodded lightly and—

"As Authorized by Ravana Greenmarch, the Leader of Greenmarch, you represent your world, so with your words as proof,

From this forth, to the next six centuries—

Greenmarch is now part in the Service of Light."

He spoke, smiling in the easy way he had practiced.

"May the Light reward the faithful."

He then pointed at the Vow door and the woman walked away with heavy steps. To think they would need to sell themselves to the Faction of Light because the artifact they were given by the very same Faction, couldn't protect their World from the Universe's trembling like it was built for.

'Justice my…'

The woman wanted to curse, but in the end, she shook her head and controlled herself. Even if she was only doing this in her head, she did not know what other strange abilities beings here might have.

Taking a foolish risk like this wasn't worth it.

In the end, she went to the Vow door.

Calren moved the Tribute credit to Lane Two's "adjustment" line and tapped "close." The coin count climbed in the corner of his slab. He got his cut for gathering more 'believers'.

The numbers soothed him, but he didn't show anything on his face, he just—

"Next."

He called.

And this time—

"I have a report to make."

He heard a strangely calm, almost amused voice.

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