CHAPTER 185: COMMENCE OF THE HOLY WAR
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[THE START OF THE HOLY WAR]
The mountainous city walls of the Evernight Church towered hundreds of meters into the sky, where thousands of women could be seen stationed there as fortresses. These structures amounted to tens or perhaps twenties of watchtowers that took the appearance of witch towers, each one looming with an air of ancient mystery.
They did not even look like fortified watchtowers where cannons could be built for defensive purposes. Instead, their design was more akin to observatory towers that astrologers use to observe the constellations in the night sky, providing a vantage point for celestial insights rather than martial might.
Sadly, the watchtowers' purpose was not anything as grand as being fully utilized for siege warfare, where the church would stand on the defending side. Their skilled archers, capable of shooting arrows miles away with deadly precision, would be positioned in these watchtowers to gain some leverage in the upcoming battle against the Lahaina Empire's most elite force, which would arrive in an hour or so, turning the structures into makeshift bastions of resistance.
"To be able to gather this much information in less than a few months is indeed impressive..." Lumicor, seated on a throne perched atop the highest watchtower, simply nodded in acknowledgment as he uttered those words in silence, his expression betraying nothing of the calculations swirling in his mind.
Lumicor did not like to show his worries to others, but he was fully aware of the condition of his mistress Samantha, that the woman he had served was extremely exhausted, her fatigue having accumulated over months prior to this final war, the inevitable confrontation between the church and the empire. He had an inkling that this exhaustion would surface the moment they had arrived in this miniature world, a realm that demanded far more from her than she could readily give.
Although he was one who was not keen on expressing his emotions to others, Lumicor was still a mortal who could not escape his lingering attachments to Samantha, the woman who had forgiven him despite the impudence he had shown her in the past, an act that had bound him to her with unbreakable loyalty and a debt he could never fully repay.
He had investigated the Holy See's history, their transactions, their personnel, and their weaknesses, while also planting a vessel of starlight among them. This meticulous effort was his way to repay his trespasses to Samantha, stemming from his immaturity at that time, and to ensure her vision could prevail against all odds.
"Master... should I prepare those?" Minerva, standing next to Lumicor, asked with curiosity laced in her voice. She was quite curious whether this dignified kidnapper of a master of hers, whose arrogance alone would pierce the sky like a divine spear, would ever have a moment where he would be desperate enough to resort to using that tool they had discovered in an ancient ruin found in the endless crypt of the Holy See, a relic of forgotten power that could tip the scales.
"No, it is not the time yet..." said Lumicor in a rather calm manner. Had he ever felt desperation in his life? Except when Alister dealt with him, erasing the mana networks in his core and leaving him vulnerable, only then did he experience such an extreme emotion in all the years he had lived in this world. So how could someone as lowly as these powerless humans have the strength to make him feel such helplessness that he would be desperate enough to rely on something external to survive, to secure his victory?
To feel desperation toward these ants was a disgrace to him. Even contemplating such insignificant things as defeat or desperation was an utter disgrace to him, an existence whose sole purpose was victory and unyielding triumph. He was not a lowly mortal who would squirm like a worm at the command of the powerful... for he was Lumicor, the Radiant Leviathan, a god of victory incarnate. So how could he ever admit that he had lost in all of his life, even if it were true, when his very essence rejected such weakness?
"Fuu... stop testing me over and over, Minerva." His words were extremely cold as he stared at Minerva straight in the eye for a couple of seconds, his gaze piercing like chilled steel, before it returned to the soldiers of the Lahaina Empire. He ignored Minerva's apologies entirely. "I apologize if I had offended you..."
Minerva said in her most respectful tone as she stayed silent afterward. She continued to stare at the soldiers of the Lahaina Empire along with her master, observing their rapid advancement like droves of ants marching toward a tempting meal, their movements coordinated and relentless. When their leader stopped, or a templar holding a banner halted its marching, all of the soldiers following behind ceased their advance as well, and they collectively stared at the templar leading them, awaiting the signal that would unleash their fury.
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The templar who held the banner of the Holy See and the Lahaina Empire altogether could be seen at the forefront of them all. She was clad in a loose ceremonial garb and performed a dance through the searing sands of the desert barefoot. She was graceful in her movements, as evidenced by her steps like those of a crane, her silken black hair fluttering across the air as the wind whipped against her, and her amethyst pupils gleaming with an irresistible hypnotic light that captivated those around her. As she ignored the pain that her feet felt at the moment, her focus unbroken, as she lifted the banner at the end of her dance.
"IZRAEL, THE GOD OF THE SAHARA CONTINENT, HAS GIVEN US A TRIAL. SO LET US, FELLOW BROTHERS AND SISTERS OF THE ORDER, PURGE THESE HERETICS." Though she was shouting, her voice could still be heard as the most gentle billows of the wind, carrying an ethereal calm that belied the ferocity of her words.
The soldiers, all of them, with no exceptions, even the priests and templars, stamped their feet to the ground with all their might. Even when the ground quaked at their collective stamp, all of them smirked as their morale, already high as ever, flared to its absolute peak, a surge of unbreakable resolve. They stamped their feet to the ground yet again, the repetition echoing their unity, before they shouted with all their might altogether to proclaim the glory of their god. "FOR THE GLORY OF THE SUPREME GOD!!!"
"ARCHERS, PULL YOUR ARROWS AND AT MY COMMAND, FIRE!!!" The templar heralding the banners of the empire and the Holy See shouted in her usually deft voice, her tone sharp and commanding. The archers who heard it positioned themselves, clad in their lightweight armor, wearing serious expressions that reflected their focus. The leading archer, or perhaps the rank five among the empire's superhumans, Abigail herself, grabbed an arrow with deliberate intent.
The elite archers under her command grabbed their bows strapped at their backs. They pulled arrows from their quivers, then pointed their bows at the sky. They mentally readied themselves, steeling their nerves for the assault, before they shot their arrows to the sky when the templar smashed the pole of the banner into the sands as she shouted. "THE GOD WANTS THE HERETICS TO VANISH!!! SO LET US, THE RIGHTEOUS, VANQUISH THEM!!!"
...
"I am the first apostle of my god..." An extremely cold yet feminine voice could be heard echoing outside the walls of the Evernight Church, cutting through the chaos like a blade of ice. Followers of the church situated at the walls all took a glance at Solia trudging through the desert, even amidst a relentless rain of arrows. She drew her blades at lightning speed to cut all of the arrows that dared to threaten her in a single slash that flashed through reality with silver brilliance. Tens of thousands of arrows fell broken in a wave from her dual blades cutting them in an instant, their fragments scattering like defeated foes. She continued her advances despite her snowy white hair zapping with latent lightning mana, a sign of her immense power, as her figure flickered in and out with every step she took, her blades meeting the arrows of her enemies with unerring precision.
The templar smashed her banner to the ground as lightning crackled at her wrath against the woman who had dared to shame her months earlier in their war campaign at the Lora Kingdom, the memory fueling her fury. She shouted with rage, her features distorted to that of a true demon, her expression twisted in vengeful hatred. "THE LIGHTNING DEMON HAS REVEALED ITS CLAWS!!! SHOOT HER, ABIGAIL!!!"
Hearing Cardinal Jaya's enraged words, Abigail could not help but recall their battle at the Lora Kingdom, where they had suffered a devastating defeat that still haunted her. She loaded her famed bow Akata with arrows and released a charged shot at Solia, then loaded it yet again. She shot again and again until the hundredth time in a matter of three seconds, her movements a blur of expertise, as she whispered softly. "Try dodging these, lightning demon... volleys of death!"
Her words echoed like the fluttering of petals, soft yet deadly, as her arrows aimed straight at Solia's head. Abigail was confident, utterly certain, that these attacks would be enough to take down the lightning demon in one go, since even the emperor, ranked first in the whole empire, would have a hard time blocking them, his own prowess tested against such barrages. So what could a mere lightning demon possibly do against this onslaught?
But to her dismay, Solia merely smiled at Abigail's futile attempts, her expression one of calm disdain, as she continued her chant. "I am an apostle of distortion... I am unworthy to serve my one true god, for I am someone who is far too weak to hold a candle to the strong... but a single strike from my blade is all I need, for the silver wolves do not repeat themselves, their howl echoing only once in eternity."
Unbothered by the hundreds of arrows coming to threaten her, which would porcupine her the moment she let her guard down for even a single second, Solia merely snorted in dismissal. She sheathed her blades in their rightful places, then took a deep breath to calm her nerves, centering her focus amid the storm. She placed one of her legs forward and lowered her stance to the point that it became awkward, a deliberate posture of gathered power. Before the arrows could reach her skin, the sound of her swords clicking back into their sheaths could be heard all across the battlefield, a resonant click that heralded doom. A flash of silver flared all over the place, blinding in its intensity, and before everyone could notice, all of the arrows, whether directed at her or not, fell to the ground in pieces as Solia whispered to herself. "SCRIPT OF NOTHINGNESS: HOWL OF THE SILVER WOLF."
