Chapter 179: Cleaning Up (Part 1)
Before long, bl**d-soaked warriors from the Lion Hunting Army rushed in response to the horn’s call.
The first batch of hunters that returned in record time hadn’t taken more than ten minutes, and dozens of menacing figures appeared one after another from the direction of the town square. They made it there so quickly because the knights who had originally occupied the square were nearly obliterated by the unexpected avalanche of ice.
By the time the horn sounded, they had hastily tidied up the mess and, upon hearing the unbelievable racket from my confrontation with the nun, were on their way to check out the commotion.
The second batch arrived soon after, and it was much the same.
Seeing the tragic corpses of their comrades, some raised their hats in salute, some silently collected the bodies, others cried tears of joy at the fact that the Duke was still alive, and some couldn’t quite believe the almost invincible nun had actually bought it.
Among these warriors, there were no medics, and in fact, it seemed that the entire town’s doctor had been swept up in the chaos of the last three hours, as the Church Knights hunted and targeted them; the infirmary had probably been taken over. They had no idea if anyone had survived—if they did, good luck trying to find them.
Fortunately, these bloodthirsty Northern warriors had a basic understanding of how to save lives; they were well-versed in the essentials like stopping bleeding and disinfecting wounds. They also knew how to mash up herbs, and after retrieving the medicinal plants from the Sword Demon’s bag, they worked urgently to treat Father. Finally, his condition stabilized, and the bleeding stopped.
However, Aunt Bella’s situation was still looking grim.
“She needs a bl**d transfusion…”
“But we don’t have bl**d bags or syringes; we’ll have to head back to the infirmary and see what’s up… but it’s probably crawling with Church folks now.”
“With our limited manpower, we need to brainstorm a solution…”
A few hunter captains gathered to discuss strategies for the next steps while others reported local skirmishes to Father. I found a place to change my clothes and cloak, put my hood and mask back on, and on my way back, I spotted three white birds flying through the sky. I thought they were likely sent by the enemy outside the town for intel, so I activated Moon Step and took to the sky, waving my hand to unleash ice shards that accurately shattered the targets. The white birds transformed into a mist of light and disappeared.
As I descended, my gaze met a crowd of astonished eyes, resting on the Sword Demon, who was huddled in a corner of the ruins nearby, sitting on the ground, clutching her sword, ignoring everyone, while nibbling on a hard biscuit.
On the other side, there was Aunt Bella, lying flat on the ground like a mummy.
“What’s the problem?”
I walked over to ask. The hunters looked up, their eyes flashing with wariness; they obviously didn’t recognize me but figured I wasn’t an enemy. Then they cast their gaze toward the Duke, who nodded slightly, prompting them to relax.
“The injuries are temporarily stable, but the bl**d loss is concerning. Though the bleeding has stopped, without timely transfusions, there’s still a chance of life-threatening danger.”
“Though Commander Bella is physically robust, we can’t predict how long she can hold on in this state; we’re not doctors, and we can’t tell…”
I furrowed my brow at their words: “What about the Divine Miracle? Can it work?”
The hunters paused, their expressions freezing.
One let out a wry smile: “But who would want to heal an enemy…”
“Even if we wanted to threaten or intimidate, those clerics usually hide far in the back. Trying to drag one through the midst of battle is simply unrealistic…”
“Oh.”
So that’s how it is.
I nodded: “Wait here.”
And then, with a loud bang, I took off using Moon Step. The hunters stared in disbelief as I soared high into the air and disappeared.
In less than three minutes, while the hunters’ shock hadn’t subsided, I returned carrying a nun and landed gracefully in front of them, pushing her down to her knees. The hunters stood up in alarm, reaching for their weapons, while the nun, terrified out of her wits, wet herself and screamed, “Don’t k*ll me! Don’t k*ll me… I’m just a nun… I’m not a knight! The Northern Army believes in reason; you have to be reasonable and not just slaughter medics and support staff…”
Her cries drew quite a bit of attention, and one of the hunters, fighting back laughter, remarked, “Reason? Hey, didn’t you guys preach that to us…”
Someone scrutinized the wet snow beneath her robe for a moment before suddenly scratching their head and glaring angrily: “d*mn, I thought it was raining just now!”
“Heal her, and I won’t k*ll you.”
I pointed at Bella lying on the ground, grabbing the nun by the hair and forcing her face to meet my gaze while my other hand formed an ice sickle, resting it against her pale neck: “I’m a man of my word; we at least need to be more reasonable than the Church.”
Frost crept from her neck to her tear-streaked face, and the nun trembled like a leaf—she was snatched right out of the knight’s camp while treating an injured knight. Despite being young, she had a talent for healing miracles and seemed to have a gentle disposition.
“I’ll only count to three.”
I stared intently into her eyes: “Before that, you can choose not to comply or throw some foolish tantrum; that’s fine. But let me warn you, don’t think you can meet an honorable end when you d*e; I guarantee before I k*ll you, I’ll hand you over to these men.”
“You must know how your fellow nun treated our warriors, right? Now she’s dead—but she died too quickly, too easily… too easily that it left us all bottled-up with anger, unable to vent it. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
This speech not only scared the nun into silence but also left the nearby hunters stunned—unlike the nun, many of them couldn’t believe that the nun had truly passed away. The idea of venting anger or anything like that hadn’t even crossed their minds, as they still had trouble digesting the notion of her demise.
The only thought in their heads was: Just moments ago, she was making us lose our heads, and now she’s gone?
Killed by this little masked girl??
It felt like a joke.
But the fact was clear—if the nun had still been alive, then the Duke Skarlij would probably have been dead long ago, and they would have had no chance to stand there peacefully.
Then someone finally caught on and looked excited, but often in the face of overwhelmingly bizarre facts, the cheer would not emerge; it felt as though their throats were being choked by something.
“The knights are bound to lose this war soon; you won’t have a chance. Even if I don’t catch you, it won’t be long before you become prisoners of the Northern Army.”
I kept going: “I can promise you special treatment, provided you cooperate. If you can save important figures of the Northern Army, no one will take out their feelings on you, because we value reason and kindness.”
As I spoke, I raised my hand, preparing to count, but this time the nun burst into tears before I could even start counting. Sobbing piteously, she immediately agreed: “I’ll do anything, I’m willing to do anything, just please promise not to k*ll me…”
Before long, green light began to emanate from Bella, slowly enveloping her numerous nasty wounds, which quickly began to heal. The nun’s talent was indeed impressive, and she didn’t dare to mess around at all, even volunteering to treat the Duke.
“Actually, I never thought you guys were… ugh, well, whatever that is, not pleasant. I’ve never liked her and didn’t want to fight, I was tricked into coming here. They told me it was to help those in need and accumulate virtue…”
As she spoke with a pitiful, appeasing, and terrified expression, several hunters couldn’t help but chuckle.
So the Holy Church has their fair share of traitors, eh?
After that, I had her escorted away to be taken care of, and Father solemnly reminded the hunters not to mistreat this prisoner—after the treatment, his complexion improved significantly. Yet, when he looked at me, his eyes seemed to hold an inexplicable sense of satisfaction and something even more complicated.
I wasn’t quite ready to face that just yet.
So I took off first, waving to the Sword Demon, who was still lurking in the shadows: “Let’s go.”
Hearing me, the Sword Demon hurriedly tucked away the unfinished biscuit, patted her backside, and scampered to my side: “Where to?”
“Outside the town for a little cleanup.”
“Oh.”
…….
Old Pope Anseier was still hesitating.
After sending Tarlasya away, he felt a bit more assured but wondered if that traitor would take the opportunity to rescue Skarlij. Regretting it now, he couldn’t get a read on Sister Kaimilante’s situation, and it felt like there hadn’t been any news from the town for ages. The Choir of Saints seemed to have gone silent as well, and none of the white birds he sent out had returned.
At such a distance, his connection to the miracle was fading, and he had no idea if the birds had been shot down by the enemy. Weighing his options, Captain Salamus was beside him, getting increasingly agitated, desperately trying to hold back his temper—how the old man wished he could let loose!
Stuck in indecision, unable to retreat or advance, felt downright dreadful.
However, it was hard for him to voice his thoughts and give the order to withdraw; it seemed he didn’t even have an excuse for retreating. Yet the longer they stalled there, the more anxious he became—clearly, the “all-out war” in the town had already ended, but there was no news from the Choir of Saints, nor did he know the whereabouts of Sister Kaimilante. Something had to be wrong, Anseier knew that.
Could it be…
Am I really going to retreat without understanding anything?
But the cost of retreat was too much to bear…
Should he wait a bit longer?
Perhaps there would still be a turnaround.
The old man swung back and forth, holding onto a glimmer of hope, when suddenly he spotted something…
A tiny black dot, glowing faintly blue, was darting through the low air at high speed, making quite a ruckus, and it quickly drew the attention of the entire military formation. The knights fell silent in an instant, and Captain Salamus followed suit, growing quiet.
Then they noticed a streak of lightning that followed closely behind the black dot, skimming the ground at breakneck speed—the target was clear: it was aimed directly at the Fourth Knights Order, stationed outside the town—Frost Order, Lightning Order. There was no way this was Sister Kaimilante.
The old man’s eyes widened.
Retreat—
Just as he prepared to hurriedly issue the command, the thought hadn’t even fully formed before he realized it was far too late.
