Chapter 175: Turning the Tide (Part 1)
Outside the town.
Old Pope Anseier wore a grave expression, and beside him, Captain Selamus had lost his earlier relaxed demeanor. Both were staring at the colossal iceberg that had suddenly appeared in the town and the dazzling holy light that shot up into the sky, only to start fading away again. The panicked chatter of the knights filled the air, prompting Selamus to bellow, “Calm down!”
As the chaotic noise subsided under his command, the young captain turned to the old man to inquire, “What happened? What was that thing that flew overhead? Did you see it clearly, Your Excellency?”
Anseier remained silent.
A bad feeling welled up inside him. He instinctively glanced at the Pope Knight, who had been quiet all this time. The knight’s gaze was sharp, as if questioning and testing him simultaneously. “Lord Tarlasya, aren’t you going to say something?”
Whatever that thing was, it sliced through the sky, coming straight from Baihao City, and its target seemed crystal clear—it was headed for the battle in the town, wielding unimaginable frost power. The moment it appeared and soared over the town, a massive icy mountain slammed down. Shortly after, there was a muffled explosion. The old man couldn’t see what was happening in the town; he only knew that there weren’t such formidable opponents on his side, and in the Northern Region, no one possessed a talent for order that could match that level.
The old man struggled to maintain his composure, his expression flickering as he thought rapidly. His intuition told him that this Pope Knight, who had just “escaped” from defeat in Baihao City, was still concealing something important from him.
“Lord Tarlasya.”
Noticing the man’s continuing silence, he issued a stern reminder, “You know very well that whatever came from there won’t be a match for Sister Kaimilante… and neither will you.”
The old man didn’t fear the mysterious enemy, which was likely a rebel’s aid, capable of posing a threat to Sister Kaimilante. However, he was very concerned that soon a large force from the Northern Region might suddenly show up from the west.
If Skarlij received new reinforcements and prolonged the chaos in the town, then it might truly be impossible to k*ll him.
Although Sister Kaimilante was powerful enough to ensure that the Church Army remained undefeated no matter the circumstances, if the enemy managed to disrupt or break through the blockade outside the town, Skarlij could seize the opportunity to escape, and amidst the chaos, no one would be able to handle him.
The Holy Miracle wasn’t omnipotent, and neither was Sister Kaimilante. Moreover, night was approaching. If anything changed, whether they could grab him and finally put an end to him would depend solely on luck.
With that realization, Anseier felt suddenly infuriated, especially after addressing Tarlasya in a threatening tone only to find the withered man reluctant to speak. He sensed that the situation appeared to be more serious than he had anticipated and prepared to send more knights to investigate the west. Just as he raised his hand, he heard Captain Selamus had already given orders, summoning the Captain of Knights and clearly starting to mobilize the troops.
Though young, this captain did give one a sense of assurance…
Anseier felt somewhat relieved.
Meanwhile, looking back at the Pope Knight, who remained calm despite such a disaster unfolding—almost blatantly showing that he was hiding something—it was becoming clear that this wasn’t just a matter of ability or personality; he likely already harbored ill intentions.
But what was the source?
What could possibly be the reason for this…
Could it be that he was an infiltrator placed by St. George?
He was here to stir up trouble, and even if he wasn’t ready to admit it, his intentions were no longer concealed. What a load of nonsense about the enemy being numerous—he had deliberately let go of Baihao City.
At that moment, the old man had a sudden clarity, almost certain in his mind about this matter.
He gazed at Tarlasya, who was deliberately ignoring him, his thoughts whirring as he began considering how to handle this man given the current situation.
Going on the offensive felt a bit forced; he was strong enough not to fear harm, but most likely he was hesitating out of respect for Sister Kaimilante… He was watching the situation and waiting for a result.
Before Skarlij could exit the town, he wouldn’t dare recklessly jump in. And his side couldn’t act impulsively either; otherwise, if the other side fell into chaos, Sister Kaimilante wouldn’t be able to pay attention to the situation. If they weren’t entangled with him, they could easily topple the Knights’ blockade and create havoc. Instead of waiting for the Northern Region reinforcements, there was a good chance that Skarlij would escape first…
d*mn it, Pope! You’ve misled me.
Feeling a headache coming on, he suddenly heard a loud bird call overhead. He looked up to see a magnificent holy white bird swooping down, landing on his shoulder and holding a message in its beak.
Anseier’s heart skipped a beat as he quickly opened the note.
On it was written: The rebel leader and his deputy attempted to ambush Sister Kaimilante but were heavily injured, their positions completely exposed. Strong enemy reinforcements are arriving to save Skarlij, and a confrontation with Sister Kaimilante is imminent. We have decided to capitalize on the chaos and eliminate the rebel leader first. Please wait for good news, Your Excellency.
“Ha!”
The old man felt the gloom lift, and his mood brightened instantly.
The younger members of The Choir of Saints can indeed be a source of comfort…
He cast another glance at the Pope Knight, coughed twice nonchalantly, tucked away the note inside his robes, and pretended as if nothing had happened.
How the reinforcements would respond was now up to Selamus to arrange. All he needed to do was hold onto the situation. By the time Sister Kaimilante returned victorious, it would be too late for Tarlasya to run…
At that time, he would need to get to the bottom of everything.
With this in mind, Anseier’s gaze returned to the small town, and his heart steadied.
At that moment, a massive roar erupted from that direction…
…………
The wind howled fiercely, swirling past my ears.
I stepped out from the dim holy lance’s handle, executing the Moon Step like a b*llet, soaring two hundred meters away to solidly land atop the crumbled remnants of a wall.
I raised my head.
That nun, wrapped in a light barrier, was slowly descending not far away.
Huh?
The moment I got a good look at her, I raised an eyebrow.
She was completely unscathed…
Was it because of that light barrier?
Wasn’t that the Sin Barrier of Onastasi? It managed to withstand my punch without breaking… Did I hit too lightly?
“Who are you?”
The nun landed on a nearby ruin and called out to me, “A Northern Region rebel? An owl? Why are you wearing an owl mask?”
I pursed my lips, refusing to answer and countering with a question, “Sister Kaimilante?”
Of course…
This nun must be the formidable Kaimilante that Tarlasya spoke of.
It was obvious upon sighting her that her faith was powerful to an absurd degree. The holy light that shot up earlier was beyond what Margaret could achieve; in a blink, I even thought it might be Cardinal Nero… Hmm, she probably wasn’t as strong as that old codger.
But she was impressive enough—no wonder my father couldn’t handle her…
“No, you’re not an owl.” The nun continued, “I’m sure I’ve never seen you before. Where did you get that mask?”
She didn’t act immediately, likely wary of the power I displayed, trying to get a read on my identity. But I wasn’t in the mood to chat with her.
“Pope Angel gave it to me.” I fabricated the story casually.
“Pfft.”
Then I heard her snicker disdainfully, “I know the owner of that mask; you’re not her. You couldn’t possibly be from The Choir of Saints; you’re too short and just a child, aren’t you?”
…What?
Are you looking down on me?
Beneath the mask, I narrowed my eyes.
“Daring to impersonate an owl in an attempt to save the rebel leader’s life—how horrifyingly grave a crime you understand this to be, right?”
A glint of golden light shimmered in the nun’s hands. “Someone capable of replicating the owl mask must be very knowledgeable. Even if you’re just a kid, I can’t let you off the hook.”
With a buzzing sound, the nun’s figure instantaneously flashed to appear right in front of me, her right hand raised, palm facing my face: “Even if I don’t know who you are, I won’t let a rat like you, who dares to flaunt their gifts without exposing their face, run free today—”
She didn’t finish her sentence.
In the next moment, a staggering gale erupted before her, roaring to life.
It was just a simple punch.
This time, the nun saw clearly; the tiny enemy merely lifted a right hand, throwing a straightforward punch her way—not some complex maneuver as she had imagined, but simply a punch, so swift she couldn’t react, an unprecedentedly powerful punch.
The heavy punch tore through the air, sending out a shrill scream, and struck the Sin Barrier.
Crack—
The barrier shattered on impact.
The nun’s eyes widened.
In that instant, she caught a whiff of d*ath, her pores instantly erupting with cold sweat. Without hesitation, she swiftly flew backward; that punch had nearly collided with her face. The nun retreated nearly a hundred meters, her body slowly descending, gazing at the now-distant small figure, her heart racing, cold sweat dripping down her forehead. By the time she regained her bearings, an icy sensation invaded her from head to toe, and she found herself panting heavily.
What’s going on…
She thought she had taken her opponent seriously enough, opening her Sin Barrier to a level that could defend against a typical divine relic—she was sure the individual coming to aid was closely tied to the Church or perhaps a special ace prepared by St. George, having used the power of divine relics to catch her off guard.
What resulted from just a single punch…
A single punch!?
It was just a punch and!!
The nun fell into a brief panic, realizing she had underestimated the threat and had almost paid for her life. The enemy’s power was undeniably real, comparable to the strongest cardinal she had encountered in the past; she hadn’t even tapped into her previously stunning power of order. No character like this could possibly be from the Northern Region rebels.
If they were, the rebels could have long ago decimated the entire southern region of the Empire. Chielis City wouldn’t endure long enough for the Church to intervene, and that heinous Duke Skarlij would never let himself be driven into a corner—who exactly was this person!?
Shock, confusion, and a hint of fear surged within Sister Kaimilante at this moment. She took a deep breath, planning to give it her all to face this terrifying foe and resolve the situation as quickly as possible. Once again, her Sin Barrier opened up, but just in the next moment, a blue light flickered in the distance, and a massive shadow came crashing down from above.
The nun instinctively looked up.
All she could see was an endless, iceberg-like expanse of extreme cold.
Boom—!!!
The iceberg suddenly plummeted, crushing her underneath.
…………
Meanwhile, on the other side.
Skarlij struggled to lean against a partially collapsed wall, holding Bella, glancing with his peripheral vision towards the astounding battle that began from afar.
Before him, several figures cloaked in black robes cautiously approached and began to encircle him.
“The Choir of Saints…”
His daughter probably couldn’t care less at this point. The man contemplated stalling for time with some chatter; as long as a hunter arrived, he’d have a chance to fight these foes.
However, the black-robed individuals were exceedingly cautious, deliberately waiting for the battle to commence before choosing to show up. Once they did, they wasted no time, methodically closing in to prevent any tricks while waiting for the right moment to deliver a fatal blow.
Skarlij’s mind raced, searching for a way to bring down some of them with him.
Suddenly, a flash of lightning streaked across the sky.
With a crack, astonishing lightning darted past one of the black-robed figures, and in the blinding light, a silhouette emerged, the sword swinging down, slitting the opponent’s throat in an instant.
Dark bl**d gushed forth.
