Chapter 397: Unwelcome Guests

The thunderous roar of massive cannons from the northern bank of the Whitewater River echoed faintly all the way to the dock square.

The people of Cecil’s domain recognized that unmistakable sound—it was the signature boom of the war corps’ arcane artillery. Each deafening blast signaled a cataclysmic explosion, far beyond the destructive power of even the greatest fireball spells cast by archmages. Having witnessed the devastating explosion of the Rebecca Crystal firsthand, and having read detailed analyses of the war in the newspapers, the citizens of Cecil’s lands were convinced that before these mighty cannons, Count Hosman and his ragtag army of seven thousand had no chance—just as the mutants who had twice attacked the territory before had been utterly defeated.

In this era, people had yet to experience the flood of information or develop a habit of questioning their lords. The scarcity of information and the harshness of daily labor had left a lasting mark on their minds. Now that they finally had access to outside news and the ability to read and think, they almost immediately accepted everything the newspapers and their lord told them without question. They didn’t care, nor did they consider what it truly meant that Count Hosman had gathered an army of seventy thousand. If the lord said they would win, then they would win.

With the advancement of education and culture, this blind trust would one day change. But for now, this near-unquestioning faith and loyalty were essential to keeping the people of Cecil united and spirited.

Nearly half the town had gathered near the dock square, listening to the distant cannon fire upstream. Yet Cecil’s strict discipline kept those with duties at their posts; most remained at work, carrying on with their tasks, waiting for tomorrow’s “extra edition” to report the latest from the front.

A pair of faint golden, ethereal eyes hovered above the southern city wall. Their color was so pale they almost blended into the sky. After a few seconds, the eyes—formed from the power of holy light—slowly faded away.

Just outside the southern wall, nestled against the Dark Mountains, a small patch of dense forest concealed an elderly man clad in a white priest’s robe trimmed with gold, wearing a triple-tiered crown adorned with intricate patterns. He slowly opened his eyes, a flash of pale golden light shimmering within them.

“Truly astonishing,” the old priest murmured in admiration, “that under the shadow of war, with an invading force outnumbering the entire city’s population, this city remains so calm… I wonder what spell Duke Gawain Cecil has cast over the hearts of his people to keep such order.”

A middle-aged clergyman beside him shook his head. “I fear the people don’t even know there’s a war. If they did, and knew what army was marching toward them, they would have fled long ago.”

“Deception and concealment, then… fitting for a duke who shelters heresy,” the elder said with a gentle, detached smile. “No doubt those sinners who defy the Lord’s will and worship false gods are hiding within the city walls. Brothers, come with me. It’s time to show these heretics the truth—that even if they flee south and hide among the people of Cecil, they cannot escape the Lord’s judgment.”

With that, the old man stepped out of the forest. Behind him, twelve fully armored figures emerged from the shadows.

They were the Church’s knights, twelve in number, each radiating powerful holy light. Their armor was forged from adamantine and light-forged iron, enchanted with sacred runes. Over their shoulders hung pale golden cloaks embroidered with holy maxims. Their enchanted longswords pulsed with pure, primal light. Even their warhorses were clad in the finest steel barding. Each knight was a high-ranking warrior—experienced, coordinated, and formidable. Even facing a legendary foe, they could hold their ground for a long time.

These knights were the pride of the Holy Light Church—the backbone of the faith’s “healing” clergy that had made it the strongest church in Ansu. They wielded the power of the Light and unmatched martial skill, spreading the faith by cutting down those who refused to believe.

The elderly man in gold-trimmed robes was Bishop Lemont of the Southern Diocese. Though the Church’s influence in the south was weak, it was not without resources. Half of these twelve knights were reinforcements from the central diocese; the other half were local forces. These devout and fanatical warriors would fight to their last breath for their faith. Today was the day they would prove their devotion to the Lord.

Not even the kingdom’s founding duke could defy the Lord’s will!

Lemont led his retinue and knights out of the forest. A brilliant holy light burst forth from them, and though they numbered only fourteen, their presence was as imposing as an army. They made no effort to conceal themselves—in fact, they strode boldly forward.

Their mission was to appear openly before the city. They knew a legendary guardian stood watch, and that sneaking into the forest outside the walls was already pushing the limits of high-tier supernaturals. Trying to infiltrate the city under the nose of a legend was nearly impossible. So instead, they chose to make a grand entrance. Their goal was not to capture the city, but to pin down Duke Gawain Cecil himself.

Bishop Lemont knew the northern battles had already begun. Count Hosman and his fifty-thousand-strong army had likely taken the Kant region and were advancing south along the Wilderness Road. Meanwhile, Count Peipo, moving downstream along the Whitewater River, would soon reach Cecil’s lands. Once the seventy-thousand-strong allied army united, taking this city—built less than a year ago—would be easy. Though Cecil had tall walls and the river as a natural barrier, seventy thousand troops could easily besiege the city to death.

Everything was under control—except for one major threat: Duke Gawain Cecil himself, a legendary warrior.

Lemont knew the quality of the “allied” forces Hosman had gathered. The southern region had enjoyed peace for so long that it could barely field a decent army. They relied on sheer numbers to overwhelm ordinary foes, but at the first setback, they would collapse. A legendary warrior like Gawain Cecil could move freely through such a broken force, slaughtering troops at will, or even breaking noble codes by assassinating enemy nobles outright. Such chaos could shatter the allied army.

Ordinary nobles wouldn’t dare attack their peers on the battlefield, but Gawain Cecil was different. Since rising from the grave, he had barely followed any noble customs. It was almost laughable, but the southern nobles all knew the truth: their ancestor had broken the ancestral laws!

To prevent this one wild card from ruining the battle, Bishop Lemont and his knights had to appear in the city and keep Gawain Cecil occupied.

Once the allied forces crushed all other resistance, leaving only the legendary duke, he would no longer be a threat.

Lemont pondered how the Holy Light Church would expand its influence in the south after the fall of the stubborn, ancient Cecil family. Then he looked up at the towering city walls nearby. The city’s guards had noticed the unexpected visitors. Figures darted along the walls. Lemont watched quietly, his expression calm but tinged with pity.

He raised his hand, and a powerful beam of holy light shot into the sky—a blatant provocation. The lord hiding inside the city would surely see it.

He opened his mouth to invoke the “Voice of Heaven,” a divine spell to broadcast a message to the city: that the Holy Light’s judgment had come upon them because they sheltered heretics and angered the God of Light.

But just as he was about to begin the prayer, a glowing, incomprehensible humanoid figure appeared on the city wall nearby.

Tall and terrifying, the being radiated magical energy. Its body was a shifting mass of arcane power, held in a vaguely human shape by rune-etched armor plates. Floating high on the wall, it hadn’t even spoken before a bolt of powerful arcane lightning tore across the sky.

“So these are the ‘unfriendly guests’ the lord spoke of,” the strange energy being rumbled, its voice like thunder. “Halt your advance—you trespass on Cecil’s land!”

“Where the Light shines, there is the Lord’s land!” Bishop Lemont gripped his staff tightly, eyes wary of the arcane creature. He had expected the legendary lord to appear first, but instead, this elemental or magical construct stood on the wall. “I am Bishop Lemont of the Holy Light Church’s Southern Diocese. In the name of the Light, I come to parley with your lord.”

“Parley?” came a booming voice from the being, “You bring twelve fully armed knights to parley? And your swords are already drawn!”

“Because of Cecil’s recent actions, we must face you with the highest vigilance,” Lemont declared loudly. “You shelter cultists exiled by the Holy Light Church. For the purity of the Light, I am here to carry out judgment upon those heretics.”

The being shook its head. It wanted to sneer, but lacking a face, it could only shake. “Then you will leave empty-handed, Bishop. Those heretics have undergone a fair trial under Cecil’s laws. They are innocent and now lawful citizens of this land. Your actions challenge Cecil’s authority.”

Lemont had been waiting for this. He needed a pretext to justify his knights’ “execution of the Light’s will.” The city’s open protection of heretics, combined with the arcane being’s words, gave him that reason. Since when could a regional bishop be judged by a lord’s laws?

A smile crept across the bishop’s face. “In that case, we have no choice but to resort to force.”

The knights raised their longswords, holy light surging between them.

But before they could strike, the arcane being spoke again: “Perfect. I can use you to test my new project. Rainbow Squadron, prepare the overload capacitors!”

(Time for a book recommendation! Dimensional Expedition is a story about pioneering, farming, and infrastructure-building in another world. The author’s previous work, Cultural Invasion of Another World, was top-notch, so you know the quality is solid. Let me tell you, this author has leveled up big time since the last book—now fully seasoned and rock-solid reliable!)

(End of chapter)