Even in summer, the ice and snow on the Helmes Plateau have not melted much.
Standing atop the Tower of Heaven, Main gazed into the distance. Beyond the city walls, the plain stretched with only two hues—green grasslands and snow-capped peaks interwoven like scars left by the Dark Moon War. The harsh climate made cultivation impossible, so the New Holy City had to rely entirely on livestock-drawn carts from the foothills of the plateau, the Old Holy City.
Having spent more than a decade in Hermes, he had grown accustomed to the pervasive cold.
"Only the two of us left?" Tavren pushed the door open. "Can we hold the meeting elsewhere?" "Do you enjoy being confined to that cramped room?" "No... certainly not," the old Bishop stroked his white beard. "If Heather hadn't been so fond of repeating the rules, I'd have preferred exchanging intelligence here every time. Even when she's full of grandiose talk, I could at least admire the holy city's scenery. And..." He smiled faintly. "I never thought someone as punctual as her would be late this time." "Perhaps she's encountered some pressing matter," Meen sat back at the table. "Maybe she's already on her way." "Perhaps..." Tavren pursed his lips. "You shouldn 't be making excuses for her. Anyone should follow through on their words—this is her motto. Even if she's in trouble, she should report to us first. She's not heading to the Eternal Winter Capital alone; sending a messenger takes just a moment." "Leave her alone for now," Meen pushed three sheets of paper toward Tavren. "We're in trouble." "Trouble?" The latter paused, sitting across from him at the round table and spreading out the papers. "All bad news?" "Exactly," he drew a deep breath. "Bad enough to be disastrous." Tavren suppressed his smile and began carefully examining the first secret letter. "...The plague's containment failed, the Faceless One's whereabouts unknown? Wait—what exactly is the plague?" "The latest research findings from the Shumi District need no extensive explanation—simply view it as a rapidly spreading epidemic," Mei En explained succinctly. According to the Crow-Eye Master, this was a miniature malevolent beast that had undergone special cultivation to develop human-specific mutations. Its countermeasure, the Holy Spirit Medicine, was also a malevolent creature, albeit more compact. "The pathogen cannot be directly observed with the eyes, and conventional methods are utterly ineffective. Only certain individuals can halt the malevolent epidemic's spread." "Witch?" Tafren immediately recognized the answer.
"And not just one." He said in a grave tone.
After reading the letter, the old Bishop slammed his fist on the table. "What the hell is this idiot doing? Not only did he send rats to hunt down mercenaries, but he even stuffed the Faceless into the trap. Does he even know how crucial this Purifier is?" "His reasoning isn't entirely wrong," Men frowned. "If the letter didn't misreport troop numbers, a thousand rats could easily wipe out over a hundred enemy mercenaries. But they seem to have some powerful long-range crossbow bolts that fire nonstop. I remember the Tyro priest stationed at Long Song Fortress mentioning this. Duke Laine lost to a group of miners precisely because their crossbows were so formidable. While heavy armor and shields can significantly reduce crossbow damage, rats don't have that kind of gear." "Even if he wanted to use those scum, he shouldn' t have recklessly deployed the Faceless!" Tefren snapped. "Hether's gonna be furious when she comes back. A Witch who grows into a Purifier has an exceptionally rare ability, and it takes tremendous effort to cultivate. In a way, they're more valuable than God's Punished." "But whether it's Witches or God's Punished, their ultimate goal is to destroy enemies and secure victory," Men said slowly. "Some losses are inevitable during the process." "Do you really want to save the Priest of Feir?" "Don't forget the Church's laws," Men's tone turned serious. "Only Noble souls would pursue such outcomes. Although Feir suffered a crushing defeat, his intentions and plans weren't flawed. The enemy was just stronger." "He will certainly face punishment, but the specific measures require further deliberation." "But Heather might not see it that way," Teflun shook his head as he opened the second letter. "Remember, she's in charge of the Church's arbitration." "I'll explain it to her." Soon, the old Bishop had flipped through the letter, his voice trembling with disbelief: "Tefiko's militia attacked the Long Song Fortress Church and wiped out the envoy corps? Is he out of his mind?!" The second letter contained dual pieces of evidence: a report from acting fortress commander Perro and intelligence from local believers. Combined, they confirmed a militia group from beyond the Western Frontier had raided the fortress and looted the church. Not only had they consumed hallucinogenic pills themselves, but their targets included the church's medicinal supplies... Thus, the initial assessment held water—their origins were either the new king Tefiko or the Queen of Azure Waters, Jiaxia. Comparing the two possibilities, the former seemed far more plausible.
As for the latter point, Maine found it oddly suspicious. According to Perro's report, the enemy had burned the church and immediately retreated from the fortress, vanishing without a trace. How could they have ambushed the embassy members? By now, the diplomatic delegation should have already reached Border Town, so there was no way they could have encountered each other.
When Mei remained silent, Tefren quickly realized the situation. He picked up the first letter and read it again, his forehead creased with furrows. "Could it be... Roland Wimbledon pushed all this onto his brother Tefiko Wimbledon after eliminating the Envoys?" "Let's speculate," the Great Bishop said after a moment's silence. "Roland must have wanted to acquire these cheap laborers, so he sent the Witches to cure the plague and transported all the refugees back to the Western Frontier. Before that, to avoid the Envoys discovering his witch-hunting, he dispatched Knights to raid their camp, leaving them no time to release the homing pigeons, then shifted the blame to the Fortress Raiders. After all, Agent Perro rose to power with Roland's support, so it's only natural he helped fabricate the story. Of course... this is all speculation, but the Envoys 'disappearance is indeed too suspicious. We don't have the energy to send another delegation now." "If that's the case, we should immediately send troops to punish his arrogance," Tefren said coldly. "Even if the Envoys have nothing to do with it, these Witches heading to the Western Frontier deserve our purge." Mei didn't respond but pointed to the third sheet of paper. "You should read the last letter first." Tefren glanced at him in confusion, then unfolded the paper. His hands soon trembled, nearly losing grip on the thin sheet. "A large number of Witches appeared in the fjords and destroyed all the churches?" "This letter is..." "From Hailong Bay—the last church breached," Mei 'en said, eyes closed, leaning back in his chair. His voice suddenly grew weary. "The fjords couldn't have seen a swarm of Witches appear without warning. Only one explanation: they migrated from the mainland." The letter also mentioned the Supernatural—according to Church law, God's Punishment troops must be deployed first to apprehend any trace of their activities. But the fjord islands were too distant. With Wolfheart Battlefield now in a critical state, he had no time to attend to matters across the strait.
"Should we seek the Pope's guidance?" Tavren asked.
"...," Mehn shook his head slightly, suppressing the overwhelming sense of powerlessness that surged within him. This might well be God's test for the Church—only by overcoming obstacles could one see the truth of God's will. He opened his eyes and regained his composure. "The Holy City of Hermes is now entrusted to you and Heather." "Are you heading to the fjord?" the old Bishop glared.
"I shall lead the hundred God Punished and the Pure Ones who remain in the Church to thoroughly cleanse the western borderlands of Graycastle, then seek an opportunity to confront the Fjord Witch." "But the law says—" Meen interrupted. "That applies when the Four Kingdoms have seen the emergence of the Supernatural. Now, separated by the sea, they pose little threat to our plans. Remember, our ultimate goal is to expand the God Punished's reach by acquiring more land and population. Clearly, the Fourth Prince of Graycastle poses a greater obstacle to us." "But..." Just as Tefren was about to object, hurried footsteps echoed outside the Circular Hall. The two were momentarily stunned, then instinctively turned toward the doorway.
The door was abruptly pushed open with a loud bang. A God official rushed in, his voice trembling with panic. "This is grave, Bishop! The situation is critical!" "Calm down!" Meine barked. "Tell me what's happening." "A dire report from Lord Heather's retinue: a massive fleet has landed on the shores of Eternal Winter Kingdom. Enemy forces are besieging the capital, and the situation is dire. Their ships all fly black sails, with green flags on the masts—the Crown of the Sail." The God official's voice trembled with urgency. "By the time the message reached us, both city gates had fallen. Lord Heather is leading his followers in a desperate fight, but the enemy numbers are overwhelming, and they've even used the Madness Pill!" "What?" Meine couldn't believe his ears. Black sails, the Crown of the Sail...
The enemy turned out to be the Black Sail Fleet of the Queen!