Chapter 83: The Cursing Saintess
Twilight was slowly creeping in.
Under the yellowing sunlight, three pristine white war chariots adorned with golden trim rounded the west gate, making their way north along a winding road outside the city. To the left lay an endless meadow, while to the right stood the imposing green giant of a city.
“…Once we reach the canyon, please try to avoid unnecessary talking. Don’t engage too much with Cardinal Nero, and make sure to stay by my side at all times, focusing on what needs to be done. They will see the real you…”
Inside the chariot, Margaret was diligently reminding me of the precautions for our arrival. On the surface, I nodded along, while internally I was anything but impressed.
I was here to vanquish the Abyss, not to curry favor with the higher-ups of the Church. Let them think what they want; it’s none of my business. As long as they don’t mess with me, I’m fine.
My mood was already pretty grim…
Earlier, as I emerged from the city gates, I spotted those Iron Guards besieging the south. Over ten thousand of them… Sounds like a small number, right? Compared to the hundreds of thousands that could easily show up from my homeland, the sparse population of this other world meant their military might didn’t quite reach those levels.
But hey, in my past life, I was just an ordinary modern guy. The grandeur of ancient armies was something I could only grasp through imagination, or perhaps glean from movies, capturing the dramatic flair of battles between armies—though those were merely artistic portrayals.
Living in a peaceful era, within a powerful nation, warfare existed only in the news. Regular folks like me never faced real combat. My homeland was stable and prosperous, and people often pondered how to lead more dignified lives. Most wouldn’t even witness a m*rder in their lifetimes.
But just now, I had seen those Iron Guards, an overwhelming wave, perfectly aligned on the distant plains. At the front were the cavalry, with masses of infantry forming a galaxy behind them. In front of the entire formation were massive catapults and other siege equipment I couldn’t even name. The entire army was poised, the scene solemn and silent, emanating a thunderous aura—one that no movie effect could ever replicate. This pressure left me shaken.
And it was just over ten thousand of them.
But I couldn’t help but imagine, if those ten thousand were my enemies, facing their charge… If I didn’t have the power of the Abyss and was just a Pope Knight who had slain Abyss creatures, even if I had reached the peak of human capability, if they charged me just like those 500 city guards back in the Valen Empire… I could envision the scene.
I might manage to unleash a wide area ice spell once or twice. The fierce chill could maybe take down a tiny fraction of them before I’d be swamped and buried under their advancing tide—expert maneuvers, frigid blasts, sharp blades, mysterious techniques, an icy world with a radius of over a hundred meters… none of it would matter against sheer numbers; there would be no chance of survival. They wouldn’t even need to swing their swords; be it living foes or frozen corpses, once they’d bulldozed in front of me, I’d be done for, trampled to d*ath.
Even if they stood there and let me attack until exhaustion, I wouldn’t have the confidence to take out half of them—that’s the power of ten thousand.
Seeing it made the reality hit me hard.
Most stories about one person defeating millions are downright ridiculous, as if merely standing amidst an army turns everyone into mere props. In actuality, the clash of armies isn’t about trading blows sword for sword; when a massive force is bearing down on you, you really have only two choices: charge ahead or bolt in the opposite direction.
The former might be a glorious d*ath, while the latter is just pathetic. As for holding the line? Forget about it. How can one person block? Without some large-scale barrier or defensive magic, even a curry stick wouldn’t help—unless you shaved your head.
But I wasn’t strong enough for that, and to my knowledge, no one in this world was either.
So, my mood was terrible.
I worried about how Victoria would face the situation I imagined.
The only thing bringing me a smidge of comfort was that Victoria could fly.
As long as it wasn’t against a sky of arrows raining like locusts, no matter how dire the situation, she at least had a chance to escape… assuming she was willing to do that.
From the moment I’d seen the Iron Guards outside the city, these thoughts cluttered my mind, making Margaret’s reminders drift in one ear and out the other. She seemed to say quite a bit, but I hardly retained anything.
Clop clop… clop clop…
A sudden, rapid clattering of hooves jolted me from my thoughts. The chariot jolted, and our speed noticeably decreased.
“What’s going on…”
I curiously lifted the curtain, poking my head out to see a small contingent of silver-armored cavalry with glistening swords blocking our path not far ahead.
Recognizing them as the Iron Guards, my brows knitted together.
…What do they want?
The three war chariots slowly came to a stop, raising a cloud of dust kicked up by their beastly hooves. Two nuns from the Saintess Class descended from the first chariot, approaching a few cavalrymen who dismounted from their steeds.
“Apologies, we’ve been ordered to conduct a check. May I ask where you esteemed ladies are headed and for what purpose?” the leading knight inquired, probably recognizing this was a Church war chariot, and his tone was fairly polite.
However, the nuns weren’t having it. With a cold glare, one of them shot back, “Who issued this order?”
“It’s a military order, my lady.”
“Whose military order? Queen Elizabeth’s?”
“……”
No one responded to the nun’s question.
They certainly weren’t acting on Victoria’s orders.
“Speak up! Who has the authority and the audacity to order you to stop the Church’s war chariots?” the nun pressed.
The lead knight seemed to inhale deeply, “My lady, you know this is a special time…”
“Special time? Do you even know who is sitting in this chariot?”
“We need to confirm in person; please understand, ladies.”
“…What if I say no?”
“Then I’m afraid… we cannot allow you to pass.”
The nun practically trembled with rage, “You’ve got some nerve… Iron Guards… step aside! If you delay the investigation into the Abyss for Her Highness and the Pope Knight, who’s going to take responsibility for that!?”
“Forgive us, we’re just following orders…”
“Orders from whom? Bring that person to speak!”
I couldn’t stand it any longer…
I was about to rise and step off the chariot when Margaret suddenly grabbed my hand, gently shaking her head. Then she called out to the outside, “Liya, let them check.”
Silence fell outside immediately.
I shot a frustrated glance at Margaret, only to see her offer me a gentle smile, “Don’t waste time here.”
I rubbed my nose.
“Just take them down…”
I was definitely not happy. Because of Victoria, I already had a strong dislike for these Iron Guards… I couldn’t take on ten thousand, but a few of these small fry wouldn’t be much of a challenge.
“They’re just following orders, so don’t complicate things. That won’t do anyone any good. The priority is to reach the canyon quickly,” Margaret reasoned.
…She had a point, but I still wanted to hit someone… Fine, I’ll hold back.
Before long, the curtain was yanked open with a clang as the footsteps of armor rang out.
The sunlight was a bit blinding, and I squinted.
A bearded cavalryman peered in, glancing over Margaret then stopping to appraise me for what felt like an eternity. This only added to my annoyance.
“Seen enough?”
The knight lowered his head slightly, “Beautiful Miss, may I ask your name?”
“Why should I tell you?” I shot back coldly.
“Following orders, Miss. Kindly provide your name.”
“Is this an order from Victoria?”
“Miss, your name.”
…d*mn it.
I couldn’t help but feel like cursing, but Margaret beat me to it, “She is Silvya Rabyshermos, the Pope Knight sanctioned by the Holy Church. Do you have any further questions?”
The knight suddenly looked a bit startled, bowing hurriedly toward the chariot.
“I sincerely apologize, esteemed Saintess… and Pope Knight. I didn’t mean to waste your precious time; I have no further queries.”
He bowed once more, prepared to leave, when Margaret spoke up again.
“You will pay for your actions.”
The knight seemed taken aback by her words, quickly bending his waist once more: “Esteemed Saintess, please forgive us; we are simply following orders.”
Margaret waved her hand dismissively.
“Please convey my words to your superior. Perhaps he is unaware just how dreadful his actions truly are. Let me remind you: what time is it? The Abyss has appeared in the heart of Ethanbel, and you lot… instead of assisting the Church to fend off our common enemy, you wish to seize the opportunity to harm the Royal City. What kind of behavior is that? You know the answer.”
“The people you’re attacking, the ones you’re trying to k*ll, recently fought tooth and nail against the monsters that assaulted the Royal City. She was gravely injured, and if I hadn’t treated her in time, she might still be suffering. She had no reason to put herself in danger. She’s a ruler and could have hidden in the palace, sending you lot to d*e. Yet she chose to battle on because she felt it was her responsibility to ensure your safety. And what’s your response?”
Margaret’s stern words and icy demeanor made the knight lower his head even further, visibly crushed.
“She is a hero, while you are shameless scoundrels. Humanity should be ashamed to have people like you among them. Go back and tell your superior that regardless of how the other Church officials react, I will not let him off easily… now get lost.”
With that, she pulled down the curtain.
I blinked, staring at Margaret’s not-so-imposing, even a bit soft face. I could feel her repressed anger; she was genuinely furious.
Noticing me watching, she brushed a loose strand of hair from her face and adjusted the nun’s headscarf atop her head.
“What’s the matter? Surprised to see a Saintess cursing?”
“Surprised, indeed…”
But that hardly counts as cursing—she didn’t even use any foul words… but it was quite satisfying; I felt my pent-up frustration ease a bit.
Suddenly, I thought, the normally composed Margaret is actually quite cute when she lets loose.
Ultimately, those cavalrymen didn’t dare to trouble the Church any further, especially with a Saintess and a Pope Knight in the chariot. Before long, we were once more on the move.
The chariot began to jolt.
Feeling the speed pick up, I lifted the curtain again.
In my line of sight, almost endlessly distant across the plains, a sea of white tents glowed golden under the setting sun, their flickering torches igniting one by one, merging into a collective under the vast sky.
That must be the camp of the Iron Guards…
The commanding officer must be there, right?
Should I… wait until night falls, when most soldiers are asleep, then sneak back in to take him out… with the power of the Abyss, who knows what I could achieve? Even if I got caught, I could always make a getaway.
Stealthily flying into the camp under the cover of darkness, find someone who looks like a commander, engulf him in black smoke, and leave no trace. The Iron Guards would be thrown into chaos, and any thoughts of taking the Royal City would be dashed. Victoria might even wipe them out in one fell swoop.
…Should I do it?
With Margaret around, could I really sneak away unnoticed?
Forget it…
I can’t shake the feeling that if I did, there’d be no going back.
…I’ll just trust in Victoria.
