373 - Regressor of the Fallen Family

Chapter 373: [But no matter how much we hurry, it will take 10 days.] "Will it only take 10 days? Don't exaggerate and get my hopes up unnecessarily..." [Pardon? What are you saying, Saintess...?] "Oh, nothing, Your Majesty. I misspoke again. I'm truly grateful for your assistance." [...It seems you're under significant stress.] "…I apologize." Eliya concluded the communication with great effort, struggling with her worsening headache, and set aside Sententia, the artifact of the Holy Judicator. "Ugh!" Her head suddenly spun, causing Eliya to clutch it and stagger. She managed to regain her balance, but Sententia slipped from her grip and rolled away. Thud. Rolling. Eliya took deep breaths to compose herself, and after a few moments, she opened her eyes to stare at the sacred relic on the floor. The Holy Judicator Sententia, one of the nine artifacts of the Nine Gods. Despite its ancient meaning of wisdom, the relic felt grotesque to her. Eliya was relieved no one was present during the secret communication, yet she hesitated to pick up the Judicator. Kneeling on the floor, Eliya's vision blurred as she began to sob. "Why, why are you doing this? Why on earth...?" Her hands covered her face. Since receiving Sententia, even habitual prayers became a struggle. The moment her hands came together in prayer, it felt as if her mind was engulfed and disappearing into a blue light. The usually comforting azure glow of Amunda now filled her with dread. Moreover, the words of the gods she heard were horrific. – Red eyes$%@ kill%%... God's foe. Since her sensitivity heightened with Sententia, this was the most common divine message she heard. Although not a complete sentence, there was no room for alternative interpretations. In essence, it meant to kill King Logan, who had helped her and her country escape crisis. These ominous divine words and her abnormal reactions were shaking the very foundation of her faith. Initially, she thought she could simply refrain from using the Judicator, but in times of mounting crisis, the Holy Nation's representative couldn’t abandon such a symbol. Besides, there were moments, even when she decided not to use it, when the Judicator inexplicably found itself on her head. Just like it happened during the recent communication. Now the artifact felt monstrous to her. "Why are you doing this to me, sob." The terror of being consumed was something her steadfast faith struggled to overcome. Especially when the outcome was doubting and considering killing her benefactor, an utter betrayal and abomination. During the communication, she had uttered strange words, perhaps unsettling her benefactor. The urge to refuse his help grew stronger by the minute. Yet it was an offer of enormous aid. “No! If it truly were my deity, such things wouldn’t happen! Something’s wrong. Those people... Yeah, they must have done something to me...” Eliya shouted with anger, then muttered as if attempting to brainwash herself. Suddenly, the face of Tracy came to mind. Those who wielded demonic magic capable of controlling the mind. But if Tracy could manipulate her mind, she wouldn’t be standing here now. Amidst her terror, the small thread of rationality forced her to face an unwanted truth. – My deity desires the death of my benefactor. So much that even the safety of the Holy Nation doesn’t matter. This chilling truth made her tremble. Eventually, out of habit, she clasped her hands once more. Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Despite numerous vows, the thought was relentless. Beneath it all, a part of her psyche refused to accept the destruction of the faith she had held all her life. Her unyielding faith had always shielded her from the unknown terror. ‘Yes. It’ll be different this time.’ That religious fervor drowned out her fading rationality. “To my Lord of boundless compassion and acceptance...” The prayer continued for a long time. Eventually, Eliya, her face blank, placed the abandoned Judicator back on her head. And she murmured words of unknown meaning. “Not much... time... left... Jibr... lick.” Her blue eyes glowed more vividly than usual, and her pupils appeared to slit vertically like a reptile. Then, a moment later. “No!!” With a scream, Eliya threw the Judicator away, terror etched upon her face. Her arms hugged herself, trembling ceaselessly, while tears flowed endlessly down her pale cheeks. In the inner sanctum of the Holy Nation, the mind of its representative was collapsing. Fortunately, there were no witnesses to this breakdown. * * * The beginning of the foretold war unfolded exactly as everyone had predicted, with the empire launching the first attack. Five of the empire’s seven western legions completely surrounded Nobiens from all sides. The sheer might of this force was enough to overwhelm any observer. “How many soldiers are there?” “Countless.” “Damn it. Is this really the end...?” Furthermore, it was not just their numbers that seemed endless. A standard imperial legion was known to contain close to fifty thousand soldiers. Among them, roughly a thousand were knights, with the rest being elite soldiers. “Aren’t all those in the front wearing knight armor? Does the empire equip soldiers like that?” “No... that shouldn't be possible...” “What the hell is going on!!” Those familiar with the empire's military trembled in greater fear at the sight of the vanguard. Donned in gleaming silver armor adorned with the emblem of the golden dragon, mounted on robust warhorses, they were knights. To ordinary folk, these combat masters appeared superhuman. Each legion had over three thousand knights alone. With five legions, there were over fifteen thousand knights besieging the capital. Even if all the holy knights across the continent gathered, their numbers would be less than half of this formidable force. “Why are there so many knights!” The scene unfolding before them was so beyond comprehension that even Harmon had no choice but to grit his teeth. "The empire has not only deployed knights from the western legions but also rallied them from across the land. Otherwise, this..." "There were rumors that the Imperial Central Guard might move, but given the circumstances, it seems more likely that they belong to the legions." "So does that ratio even make sense?" "Perhaps it's just an exaggerated display?" Lieutenant Rhine Harper's words were filled with a desperate hope, struggling to deny the imposing sight before them. The problem was, Harmon also wanted to cling to that hope. 'I wish that were true.' Because if they truly were all knights, it implied the empire could have more than 50,000 of them. Yet, his instincts were telling him that the sight before him was no bluff. "Damn it." He felt a cold shiver down his spine. In the past, it was often speculated that just one imperial legion could easily conquer a small kingdom. The empire had eight such legions in the east, and seven in the west. It was undoubtedly a nation worthy of being called the strongest in the world. Even excluding the Central Guard, whose structure was shrouded in mystery and directly managed by the royal family. 'More than 50,000 knights? Surely not... But if that's the truth.' It meant they could form legions entirely of knights. Of course, considering efficiency and power, it seemed improbable, yet just the thought of such a force sent chills through his body. "What about the Holy Knights gathered at the capital?" "There are over 8,000 as of a few days ago. Considering the forces tied up within the empire’s borders, this is effectively our maximum strength." Contrary to popular belief, the war wasn’t only unfolding in Nobiens. Routes within the empire leading to Nobiens were blocked, leading to temple forces clashing with the empire everywhere. 'King Logan, if not for his warning, even this wouldn't have been possible.' Issuing a mobilization order upon hearing his warnings was indeed a stroke of genius. "What about Sir Stephan?" "Fortunately, he arrived yesterday. All three deputy commanders are on standby and ready." Harmon's mind began to whirl. A holy army close to 100,000, 8,000 Holy Knights, three superhuman beings capable of wielding sacred aura including himself, and the powerful holy barrier that would envelop Nobiens during wartime. They had amassed every possible asset available to them. Yet the thought of facing an army of 250,000, with 15,000 knights among them, and at least five other superhuman beings was daunting. In the end, he was left with only one option. “...Hold out for as long as possible. Issue that order throughout the army.” "Is that all?" "If we endure, there will be a change. The Saintess prophesied it." "Oh!" At those words, Rhine Harper’s face lit up. The capital's citizens, who had faced relentless disasters, relied on the claim that Saintess Eliya had used divine prophecy to avert the crisis to maintain morale. Though it was false, Eliya had indeed mentioned her divine messages becoming clearer, so he didn't see it as deceit. And presently, the effect was undeniable. – Hold! If we do, victory is ours! – The Saintess has prophesied! – Uwaaaaah! Not only had it worked, but its impact was substantial. Watching this, Harmon thought of Eliya with Sententia. She seemed almost like a mythical saint with her amplified divine powers. ‘The Saintess needs to truly receive the divine word this time.’ Grinding his lips, Harmon turned his gaze from his hopeful lieutenant to the enemy beyond the eastern gate. The foes were still distant, yet among them was an adversary now seen as a nemesis. The one who had engraved his presence with a brief yet fierce skirmish that nearly obliterated the central temple's section, leaving an impression on the capital’s residents—Tris Hornsby, the continent’s greatest swordsman. "Impressive." The leader of the besieging imperial forces smiled, sensing the power of their own troops. "Just by changing our recruitment criteria, we've reached this level in ten years. In another decade, the empire could conquer the world with half of this strength. Isn't that right?" "Yes, Master." Of course, isn’t this thanks to Prince Baros himself? Jerome had to swallow the words that dangerously rose to his throat. Talking about Prince Baros in the empire was practically taboo, especially for Jerome, who had lost his noble status over issues related to him. Now, he was merely a guardian knight to the grandmaster of the subjugation forces, Hermon. Still, the concise reply seemed to please his master. "Your spirit is enough to see the fear in the faces of their holy knights. Jerome, and all of you, you haven’t forgotten my words, have you?" "Yes." "Yes, Your Excellency!" Alongside Jerome's answer, four knights standing orderly at his sides responded in unison, as if they were one entity. ‘Like dolls. Creepy bunch.’ But revealing such thoughts wasn't an option. Because they were not just part of Hermon and Galeon's forces, but were heralded as secret weapons of the empire, capable of capturing the Tower Master of Kassel and the Serpent that Swallows Truth, according to the Emperor himself. For now, he could only hope that... "When I exhaust the Holy Sword’s power..." "We shall finish it." "...We'll handle the rest." Their synchronized response, making it unlikely to mistake them as part of different units, was the greatest extent of expression he could muster. "Good. The division commanders of the Holy Knights will manage their respective army leaders. Our main concern is Nobiens’ holy barrier, but..." At the point where Hermon's gaze landed, a mage bearing a slight resemblance to Jerome, yet with a sharper demeanor, smiled. "Leave that to me and the magic battalion." "Very well, Galen. I entrust it to you." Nodding, Tris spurred his horse forward, moving to the front of the legion. – You insolent rabble who have scorned the Emperor's gracious benefaction... "Egon, step back." "Ah, Your Excellency." With just a single command from Tris, Egon Miller, the commander of the 1st Western Legion, who had been shouting fervently towards the walls of Nobiens, halted his lengthy proclamation and stepped back immediately. At that moment, Hermon unsheathed his prized sword. "By the Emperor's command!" A single terse proclamation that compressed Egon's lengthy declaration. "All units, seize the capital!" With that shout, the war commenced.