The brand new training went very smoothly. Honestly, given the current situation, Charles did not have high expectations for the girls: as long as they could understand commands, learn the correct running posture, the standard firing stance, and the basics of guiding Divine Power, he was perfectly satisfied.
After all, none of them had been Pastors for even a week yet—how much could he truly expect?
A few days later.
Buzz—
The Sending Stones on the scriptorium table suddenly glowed with a faint white light, but Charles, who was absorbed in studying spells, did not immediately look up.
He had been focusing on a 1st-level spell named "Hex." The effect of this spell was similar to his own class's "Hexblade's Curse": both made an enemy's flesh and organs more fragile, so that physical damage would deal extra harm.
The difference was, as a 1st-level spell, "Hex" still required the use of a Spell Slot, and did not grant the life-draining effect of Hexblade's Curse. Still, as a spell, Hex could be cast as often as you had slots, and had no hour-long cooldown—making it a useful tool for periods when his powers were otherwise limited.
He had been practicing this spell before, and if it weren't for the interruptions of earthquake, torrential rain, and the endless relief efforts that followed, he would have mastered it long ago.
Still, now was not too late.
"Hex!"
After forming a few simple gestures with his left hand, Charles swiftly recited a short incantation. On the desk before him stood a scarecrow for testing. As the spell took hold, the scarecrow visibly withered and became brittle—ready to crumble at the slightest touch.
Charles nodded in approval.
Excellent—he had finally mastered it.
In a great mood, only then did he turn to the Sending Stones, reach out, and infuse them with magic power to listen to the message within.
The next second, a familiar and gentle female voice sounded: "Charles, my preparations are finished. I'll set out for Rubble District the day after tomorrow and lead the team into the mountains."
"Are things on your end ready? Can we depart together? If you're busy, I'll come to your monastery tomorrow—I have something to give you."
The voice, of course, belonged to Anno.
Charles's eyes lit up. The delight of mastering a new spell, combined with the joy of hearing his beloved say she had a present for him, turned into an even greater happiness—it felt as if he could float right then and there.
Without delay, he replied: "I'm free—and I also just received a batch of sponsorship. Now, I've armed a full team, so I'll bring twenty people in total."
"What time the day after tomorrow? Where shall we meet? I'll come find you."
After sending that reply, it felt like myriad tiny hands were tickling him from head to toe. He could hardly resist the urge to leave immediately and see his beloved.
Soon, Anno replied again, succinctly confirming the time, place, and a landmark building, and even thoughtfully mapped out the best route for him.
Once it was all settled, Charles wasted no time. He called out: "Andny, have the witches come up to the second floor of the scriptorium—we're having a meeting!"
At his summons, graceful figures gathered swiftly. Nine people came together. Charles glanced around and said, "The usual: we'll discuss who's heading into the mountains."
"Theresa and Nidalee are coming with me—that's certain. As for the rest, hm…"
His gaze swept the group. On his right, Hattie's expression quickly became pitiful. "Master…"
She clearly wanted to go, but this time, Charles was determined to be fair.
"Ekta, you'll come with me," he said. "It's time our Flame Witch saw the outside world."
After such a great disaster and the rampage of the demons, the Roof Ridge Plateau was in chaos—one more hand would not make a difference.
Sephera pouted and lowered her head, saying nothing more. Ekta, on the other hand, nearly leapt from her chair in excitement, her whole body visibly trembling. "Thank you, Master!"
Behind her, Andny smiled, filled with genuine happiness for her closest friend.
After waiting so long, she'd finally get the chance to journey outward with the Master too.
...
The day after tomorrow, half an hour past noon.
In the Rubble District, Anno sat with her squad of warriors, basking in the bright sunlight and patiently awaiting their rendezvous.
Apart from her, the group totaled ten—six men and four women, all warriors clad in chainmail and armed with shields and warhammers, with handaxes and javelins strapped to their backs so they could swap weapons as needed.
Such weapons were standard issue for classed warriors in the wilderness, since any kind of foe might appear, and they needed tools for bludgeoning, slashing, and piercing, for both melee and ranged combat.
All these warriors were newly recruited members of Force Grey—handpicked elite from various district guard formations. Their backgrounds were clean, their skills solid, and all were at least level 2; a few were already at level 3.
For now, they were all rookie Grey Hands. By comparison, Anno was a "Grey Squad New Blood," two grades ahead.
The organization had tasked Anno with leading these rookies on a high-difficulty mission, to train them and help them gain vital experience. Otherwise, she wouldn't have brought them along into the field.
And so, they waited. Anno herself was endlessly patient, but not everyone in the group could say the same.
"Captain, how much longer do we have to wait?"
A tall human male warrior couldn't help but complain, voicing the sentiment of several of the other men.
Anno's expression was calm as ever: "Wait a little longer."
"It's already been half an hour," the man muttered again.
Beside him, a muscular human woman clad in the same gear retorted, "Jack, would you please have a little patience? The captain said this is strong reinforcements. Show a little respect for our reinforcements, will you?"
The man opened his mouth, "Jenny, you… ah, whatever."
He shut his mouth, resigned to not argue with her, though the look on his face still brimmed with annoyance.
Just then, a commotion broke out in the distance. Jack looked over—and his eyes brightened instantly.
He saw over a dozen white-haired, beautiful nuns in black robes had somehow ended up here in Rubble District, forming a truly striking scene.
His gaze burned with excitement, but on duty as he was, he did not dare approach—a genuine sense of pity welling in his chest.
And then, to his astonishment, the girls all began heading right towards them.
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