Chapter 313: Transfer

All the money and valuables would become the strength of their followers, used to do more for the gods.

Alda never thought of keeping anything for himself, always handing over everything he stole.

Mr. Diglan would reward them generously, enough for Alda to live comfortably for a long time.

As dusk fell, Alda checked his spatial ring, which held eight stolen items from the day.

He could have continued at night when there would be more people, making theft easier.

But Mr. Diglan instructed them not to stay in one place too long, never more than seven or eight hours.

Alda knew it was time to leave. He weaved through the bustling crowd on Cavat’s commercial street and soon left the lively area.

He glanced back at the Cavat Commercial District, knowing that under normal circumstances, he would never have any connection to it.

As an ordinary person with no talent or background, he had no prospects.

The Land of Dawn was a harsh place; without wizard potential, ordinary people had no upward mobility.

But with the power of the gods, Alda felt hopeful again. What he wanted to achieve no longer seemed out of reach.

Alda arrived in a quieter neighborhood, a residential area.

There was a commercial area here too, but it was much less crowded.

Most residents were busy working and didn’t have the money to spend here.

They only visited during their monthly breaks to eat, drink, and relax.

But today wasn’t a rest day, so the streets were sparsely populated.

Wealthy people wouldn’t come here, seeing it as beneath them.

Alda pushed open the door to a bar called the Root Bar, finding only five people inside, each drinking alone.

They were regulars, barely glancing at Alda before returning to their drinks.

Alda headed to the back of the bar, entering the courtyard.

There, a man in his forties was trimming the garden with scissors.

“Mr. Diglan, here’s today’s haul,” Alda said, extending his left hand to place the stolen items in a basket.

Without turning, Diglan continued trimming the plants, saying nothing.

Alda waited patiently, standing still.

After ten minutes, Diglan finished his work, set down the scissors, and turned to Alda. “Good job. The gods will remember your contributions.”

“It’s an honor to serve the gods,” Alda replied sincerely.

Diglan approached, examining Alda’s left hand. “Any unusual feelings lately?”

Alda thought for a moment. “Just some occasional pain, nothing else.”

Diglan nodded. “Your body hasn’t fully adapted to the god’s power. Keep training, and it’ll get better.”

Alda agreed. His body was still too weak and needed strengthening to hold more divine power.

Diglan took a small pouch of gold coins from his spatial ring. “Here’s your reward. Let me know if you need more. You won’t lack money serving the gods.”

“Thank you, Mr. Diglan!” Alda accepted the pouch happily.

It was full of gold coins, enough to last him a long time.

Alda knew the stolen items were worth much more, but he had no reliable way to sell them himself.

Giving them to Diglan allowed him to serve the gods and earn money—a win-win.

“Go home and keep up the good work. The gods are watching you,” Diglan said.

Alda nodded, bowed respectfully, and left.

Once Alda was gone, Diglan collected the items from the basket into his spatial ring and headed to the basement.

The basement door was a heavy iron gate. Inside, Diglan waved his hand, placing the items on the floor.

The pile of goods formed a small mountain, clearly accumulated over time.

Diglan clasped his hands, closed his eyes, and said, “Great gods, please transfer these items to them.”

A strange wave echoed in the basement, and a red tongue appeared, wrapping around the items and making them vanish.

Afterward, Diglan closed the basement door and returned to the courtyard.

Helag, observing nearby, realized that Diglan seemed to be asking the dark gods of the Abyss Plane to transfer the items to others.

Whether those others were in the Abyss Plane or the wizarding world was unclear.

Helag suspected Diglan was using this method to pass the items to certain people in the Land of Dawn.

As long as items moved, their path could be traced.

But by using the dark gods as intermediaries, the items became nearly untraceable.

No one knew where they ended up—perhaps far from Silvermoon City.

The process left no trace, making it impossible to investigate without evidence.

Helag thought it would be difficult to gather evidence against Diglan.

Unlike Max, Diglan didn’t create carved items.

The transfer process was fleeting, leaving no trail.

Helag looked at the departing Alda and formed a plan.

Alda walked down a dimly lit street, heading home.

Suddenly, everything went black, and he lost consciousness.

As his body began to fall, Helag caught him by the collar, lifting him easily.

Diglan was a dead end for evidence, but Alda was a perfect source.

Helag examined Alda’s left hand, quickly discovering a slender, worm-like creature inside.

The strong Abyssal aura came from this creature, a small monster from the Abyss Plane.

Helag realized the creature was feeding on Alda’s life force.

It was slowly draining Alda’s life to sustain itself.

If this continued, Alda would only have a few years left to live.

Once his life was exhausted, his usefulness would be gone.