Chapter 885: Enjoy Your Defeat, Lackeys of the Church!

“The Radiant Holy Sword has been successfully unleashed.”

The archbishop of Carayas City, who was personally overseeing the Divine Light Formation at the Consolation Cathedral, along with the archbishop of Dias City, closest to Ostend, both heaved a sigh of relief, almost collapsing from exhaustion.

Utilizing the Divine Light Formation to exert an attack far beyond their individual power was an immensely taxing task for each of them. Especially since a link in the Grand Divine Formation had broken, they had to guide the Radiant Holy Sword accurately toward Ostend Star Castle...

After a night of prayer, gathering holy power, and finally channeling it through the sacred artifact of the cathedral, using their own spiritual power to guide it, they released it at the break of dawn.

The moment the enormous holy power surged forth, several archbishops swayed involuntarily, nearly collapsing on the spot. However, there was no coughing up blood, no fainting, no being crushed by the divine power—that was a victory! It meant the Divine Light Formation hadn’t backfired, hadn’t exploded; it had been successfully unleashed!

As for the effect of the Holy Sword’s strike, they could only await the report from the observers...

“Quick, report to the archbishop!” A cleric stationed in the bell tower of the cathedral, who had set up the instruments and was watching without blinking, urgently instructed his apprentice:

“The Radiant Holy Sword was successfully unleashed! The angle is correct! The distance... the distance...”

He adjusted the instruments rapidly until he saw a larger white dot explode on the pre-marked red dot:

“The distance matches the preset coordinates! We can confirm that the landing point of the Radiant Holy Sword is accurate! The specific destructive effect remains to be confirmed by the front-line observers...”

Five miles outside Ostend City.

A young man trembled as he clung to a tree branch, hands shaking as he tried to untie a rough hemp rope tied around his waist and the tree trunk. Ouch! His hands were chafed raw again! Ouch! Chafed raw again!

He rubbed his hands on his body, feeling a sharp sting, and remembered he had put on an old, worn-out hemp cloth shirt to look like a local farmer. Rubbing against the wounds, it hurt!

“Damn traitors!” he cursed in a low voice:

“You deserve to be struck down by the Holy Sword, every single one of you, straight to hell! When I report this to the archbishop, I might not get the manor, but surely I’ll be rewarded with a shop on the main street?”

He climbed down the tree with difficulty, stretching his stiff body and limping away. His hands, face, and legs were covered in black grime, swollen with countless bites:

Disguises were disguises, but they didn’t stop mosquitoes from biting...

The young observer grimaced as he walked away. As he left the hill, a figure slowly emerged behind him, whistling with a smile:

“Heh heh... Do you think what you saw is really what you saw? What you saw is just what we wanted you to see... Illusion magic, I’m second to none. This mission, there’s no one better!”

Humming a tune, he walked back. He could already imagine the report that the boy, who had spent a night in the tree being bitten by mosquitoes for nothing, would submit:

The Radiant Holy Sword hit the Star Castle directly!

The Star Castle was split in half, with a several-meter-wide gap in the middle!

Earl of Ostend and his wife, along with a group of heretics, attempted to resist but were directly hit by the Holy Sword! It was tragic; the shield they desperately raised lasted only two breaths before exploding on the spot!

How many died? Not sure, but the sky turned completely red at that moment, a hazy red mist. But the Earl seemed to have survived; I saw him being carried away by two people, with only half his body left, desperately fleeing...

“Heh heh, heh heh...”

The illusionist mage grew more and more pleased as he thought about it, grinning from ear to ear as he swaggered towards the Star Castle, humming a song:

“Home, home, sweet, sweet home!

There’s no place like home,

Oh, there’s no place like home~~~”

“Stop singing! Your tune is so off it’s reached Aeolan Island!” someone shouted angrily from afar:

“Hurry and come help!”

“Uh...”

The downside of illusion magic was its weak direct combat power. Being dragged over by an evocation mage, he could only obediently do the work...

The Church’s personnel, who had been under illusion magic for half an hour, returned triumphantly with the good news. The archbishop of Dias City hesitated for a moment, then decided to pass the news along rather than act rashly:

Let all the cities know!

Let every archbishop along the Divine Light Formation chain know!

Especially, let Archbishop Joyce of the Consolation Cathedral in Carayas City know!

An already defeated enemy cannot regain combat strength, especially with both legs gone; it’s not easy to stand up again. The spoils must be shared, especially with the superiors; otherwise, well...

He had no hope of advancement, only wanting to retire peacefully and live out his days in a small town near the Radiant Holy City. No matter what happened, he had to let the taller ones bear the brunt.

Light cavalry relays passed the message station by station. By the afternoon, a cavalry troop set out from the Consolation Cathedral, charging towards the churches:

“Gather! Gather the Holy Knights! Gather the clergy! Mobilize the elite, recapture Ostend City, recapture the Holy Lily Cathedral!”

“Before the troops from the Radiant Holy City arrive, we must recapture the cathedral and restore the Divine Light Formation as much as possible! If the superiors arrive and don’t see an intact formation, or at least one in our hands, the consequences—”

Of course, repairing the Divine Light Formation primarily concerned the archbishops and bishops; the wealth in Ostend City concerned everyone, especially the knights. Seven cities, seven ports, each handling massive amounts of goods—

Before the incident, Ostend City had stockpiled a vast amount of military supplies! Such a large amount couldn’t have all evaporated under the Radiant Holy Sword, right?

Hurry up!

Hurry up!

Hoofbeats thundered as six cathedrals each deployed half of their Holy Knights, led by a Grand Knight of level ten or above, with two bishops and several priests in each squad:

Even if Ostend had remaining resistance, this force could crush it without difficulty!

Of course, no need to count on local lords’ armed forces for such a good mission. Half of the Holy Knights to guard, half to attack, was already quite a lot—this was the strength of six cathedrals!

Deliberation, dispatch, gathering. By the time six hundred cavalry poured out of Dias City, galloping towards Ostend, it was already the third day. And they faced an enemy they hadn’t anticipated—

“Everyone, don’t rush.” The same black-haired youth who had communicated with the Earl of Ostend stood leisurely beside the Earl, lightly holding the reins—though Phantom Steed needed no control.

He twirled a short silver flute, occasionally pressing it to produce a few dissonant notes as a breeze flowed through it:

“You’ve cooperated with the Radiant Church’s clergy for a long time, but cooperating with mages, this might be the first time. Many applications of magic you may not have seen yet, don’t rush, follow our lead—”

He listened for a moment, nodded, and whispered a few words. The Earl of Ostend saw only his lips move, hearing no sound, not knowing whom he was speaking to.

If not for his mage wife, the Earl wouldn’t have known that he was probably sending a message to someone ahead, maybe receiving reports, maybe giving orders?

“Hmm, the enemy is here.” He casually waved the silver flute, producing a soft hum, and the Earl’s ears buzzed. Then, the sound of wind, insects, and birds...

All vanished. In the distance, they could see the cavalry charging, dust billowing, an imposing sight;

They could see the Holy Knights’ leader drawing his lance, shouting orders, and organizing formations;

They could see the clergy in the ranks praying softly on horseback, opening holy books, white light falling like rain, covering everyone;

They could see the rear archers drawing bows, aiming high into the sky, and at a command, arrows blotting out the sun...

He could see everything. But he couldn’t hear a thing, no hoofbeats, no commands, no bowstrings, as if watching a terrifying silent play.

And those people’s target...

“Who are they attacking?”

“Heh heh, Lawrence, well done,” the black-haired youth chuckled softly. Inside the barrier, a breeze stirred, and another young man’s voice laughed:

“Of course, who am I!”

Arrows flew, a charge commenced. The Earl of Ostend saw it all clearly: the front-line Holy Knights gripping their lances tightly, muscles tense, with utmost vigilance. It seemed that the next moment, they would clash with equally matched foes—

Chaos ensued!

The leading cavalry suddenly stumbled, horses falling headlong. The ranks behind, unable to halt, toppled over each other, one row after another, collapsing.

Cries and screams, bones breaking. At this moment, the Earl noticed a large pit ahead, dug sometime earlier.

And the Holy Knights, unprepared, fell into the pit, trampling and crushing each other.

“Stop, stop—”

“It’s an ambush—”

Someone shouted among the attackers. A furious roar came from the pit: the leading Grand Knight, lance in hand, fought his way out. The black-haired youth smiled:

“Finally noticed? Too late!”

He produced a paper tube from somewhere, lit it casually. With a whoosh, a flame shot skyward, bursting into brilliant colors.

As the colors exploded, earth-shattering roars of beasts echoed from the left, right, and rear of the knights.

“Interplanar Summoning.” The black-haired youth’s lips curled slightly:

“Enjoy your defeat, lackeys of the Church!”

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