After passing through the dim corridor and entering the vast underground cavern via a suspended platform, Mayn found himself once again before the Sacred Temple of the Privy Council.
O'Brien was already waiting at the door under the crown.
He appeared older than before, his sunken eyes framed by wrinkles that stretched like spider webs across his cheeks, yet his smile remained gentle and full of concern. Meine's eyes welled up as she knelt before him. "Your Holiness, we—" "Rise, my child," the Pope's voice was calm and composed. "I hear you're in trouble. Come to the hall." Today was not the day of conversion. The hall bore no rows of star-shaped candles along the walls, only candlesticks in a few corners. The Pope returned to his throne, catching his breath. "Speak. What has happened outside?" Meine knew the weight of the duties under the Obelisk's crown. He wasn't unaware of what was happening beyond the Holy City—he simply had no time for such trivial matters. That's why the three Bishops had been appointed to jointly manage religious affairs. He should have avoided troubling the Holiness with these matters, but the current predicament left him powerless to resolve them.
Mein quickly told the whole story.
"Has Heather perished..." After hearing this, O 'Brien remained silent for a long while before letting out a deep sigh. "A keen-eyed, clever, and devout young girl—I watched her grow up." "Please bear with me, Your Holiness." "The murderer will surely face punishment," the Pope nodded. "Is the current situation one of mutual aid between Giasia and the Wolfheart Kingdom? Did the new poison fail?" "It proved remarkably effective in capturing Broken Tooth Fortress. After a month of desperate resistance, the defenders were all slain. The Inquisition Army swiftly entered the city, leaving the residential areas nearly devoid of living souls. Yet when attacking Wolfheart City next, the poison seemed to have lost its potency. The enemy's resistance remains formidable to this day," reported Mayn Hui.
"You've made two critical mistakes," O' Brien said solemnly. "The poison's effects will prove fatal within seven to ten days. You should strike during the first peak of outbreaks and swiftly treat the city's population to drastically reduce their hostility. Remember, we need to preserve as many lives as possible, not empty cities." "Delaying action until a month later may minimize casualties, but it gives the enemy ample time to develop countermeasures. The new poison's essence is demonic creatures. According to the Sacred Canon of Magic, over seventy abilities can counter its contagion, while thirty more can directly kill. In a city of tens of thousands, it's not uncommon to have such a Witch." "You mean they're colluding with the Witch—" "When life and death hang in the balance, who cares if they're Devil's henchmen?" the Pope said calmly. "Whether this Witch chose to act or was forced to treat the plague after being exposed, neither is good news for the Church. If they can halt our advance, the Witch's reputation in Wolfheart will undergo a radical transformation—perhaps even being hailed as a hero." "This is all my fault," Mein said, his head bowed in anguish.
"It's true, but not a serious one. You devised this strategy to minimize losses for both the Inquisition Army and God's Punishment Army," Aubrey said, striking his shoulder with the scepter. "Moreover, the gathering of the Three Princesses of Graycastle and the Wolf King presents us with an opportunity." "An... opportunity?" Bishop was taken aback.
"Exactly, the chance to eliminate them all," Oberlein stood up. "Follow me." Guided by the guards, Main followed the Pope out of the Secretariat and slowly made his way into the depths of the cave. The massive God's Stone of Punishment emitted a dim glow, illuminating the path beneath their feet. As the light gradually faded, Main couldn't help but turn back. The Secretariat Temple and the God's Stone had already been left far behind. The guards had also lit torches to avoid tripping over the scattered rocks on the ground.
"We're... where?" "We're here, my child," the Bishop paused, his breath labored. "Ah... old age makes even this short journey so strenuous..." A guard stepped forward to support him. "My Lord, let me carry you." "No need," he said, standing still for a moment before instructing, "Light the brazier." Only then did the Bishop notice the towering iron structures along the stone path—hidden in the darkness, they would have been hard to spot without torch-bearing guards. The guard climbed the ladder to the top, lit the resin basin, and brilliant flames erupted. Meen squinted first, adjusting to the sudden light before peering forward.
Amid the flickering flames, a dust-streaked canvas billowed up before the crowd, its towering height revealing a colossal structure beneath.
"We had planned to wait until the final two years to confront the increasingly ferocious beast, but now it seems we must activate it sooner," Oberlain waved his hand. "Unfold the cloth." "This is..." As the canvas fell, Maine could hardly believe his eyes. It was a colossal, grotesque four-wheeled iron chariot—each wheel towering over his height. The vehicle had no interior, only terrifying metal spikes and a beast-like skeletal frame. At its center stood a bone shield covered in barbs, as large as three or four door panels. Two straight, pointed iron rods extended from the shield's aperture, pointing forward like arrows poised to strike. Along the sides hung dozens of similar rods, each as thick as a thigh, their surfaces gleaming with a dull metallic sheen under the brazier.
"The Holy Scripture names it the 'Siege Beast'," the Pope said, approaching the iron chariot and patting the sturdy iron rod. "It can only be activated by Magic Power and requires three or four Witches to function properly. The Siege Beast's attack range far exceeds that of catapults and crossbows. Ordinary city walls are hardly capable of withstanding the destruction of iron arrows, while giant wooden sailboats appear as thin as paper before it. Whether it's demolishing the solid walls of Wolfheart City or blocking the advance of the Black Sail Fleet, it accomplishes these tasks with ease." "This... is also a weapon developed by the Secretariat?" "No," Oberlan shook his head. "You should be able to guess—it comes from our enemy, the Devil in the Abyss of Hell. This is why the Church hides the Siege Beast deep within the cave. Remember, when using it, you must conceal your presence as much as possible and avoid letting civilians see its appearance." "I understand," Men said, lowering his head.
Why could the Devil's weapons be controlled by witches? Did they possess the same magical power as humans? He suppressed his curiosity and refrained from further inquiry. Clearly, such matters would only become his concern once he ascended to the position of the new Pope.
"Furthermore, to prevent Jiasia and the Wolf King from fleeing again, I shall dispatch two Purifiers to assist you in battle," the Pope declared solemnly. "No one can escape their slaughter... Proceed, and with the blood of these blasphemers, bid farewell to Heather." The Purifier under the Pope's crown! His heart trembled. While witches raised and sustained by the Church were called Purifiers, the witches under the Pope were the most elite, their abilities unrecorded even in the Sacred Canons of Magic—utterly unlike Heather, Tefren, and the few under his command. Now that the Pope himself admits they cannot escape, their fates are sealed.
"Your Majesty, as you command." Meen replied excitedly.