Chapter 493: The White Knight’s Way of Battle

The great gates of the cathedral district came crashing down with a thunderous roar.

No one knew who had let out the first furious shout, but everyone understood one thing clearly: those gates had been forced open by the sheer strength of ordinary people.

Without the aid of supernatural powers, even the grand gates leading into the cathedral district were no more than a barrier of wood and iron.

“Destroy the church!” “Take down the bishop!” “For the children!!”

In that moment, the enraged crowd seemed to forget the terror of the supernaturals, as if the centuries of oppressive weight the cathedral had imposed had suddenly lifted. At the forefront, the White Knights charged, while behind them, free mercenaries and adventurers from Carol and Luan surged forward as a second wave. Further back, farmers and merchants wielding sickles, hoes, staffs, and pitchforks pressed on like a tide of mud flooding through the gates. The limited number of church knights and soldiers guarding the entrance were overwhelmed in an instant.

This was the first rebellion of ordinary people against the supernatural forces. But in a world where supernatural power utterly dominated the mundane, a direct assault by civilians on the church knights’ defenses was little more than a meaningless sacrifice. So leading the charge, besides the few dozen White Knights, were mercenaries and adventurers gathered from across the land.

These fighters were at least relatively well-equipped or possessed some degree of supernatural power. Their numbers were enough to hold their own against the church knights, but they were still a group long oppressed and controlled by the church—still part of the “common folk.”

The newspapers and broadcasts distributed across the countryside had not only enraged the peasants in the fields but also stirred this bloodthirsty crowd. They volunteered to be the spearhead of the assault on the cathedral—and now that spearhead had broken through the first line of defense in the cathedral district and pressed onward toward the grand cathedral itself.

Amber and her squad moved through the crowd. As they crossed the square of the small cathedral district, her sharp eyes caught sight of flickering figures at the edges.

They were clergy from the small cathedral district—having shed their conspicuous priestly robes for plain clothes indistinguishable from the commoners, with white armbands tied around their arms. They ran along the square, guiding the crowd and faithfully fulfilling their duties.

Amber breathed a sigh of relief. Not only had these priests remembered to wear white armbands as a sign, but they had also changed their clothes in advance—a wise move indeed.

This wave of fury was destined to sweep through the cathedral district in a semi-chaotic state. The angry crowd was nearly impossible to restrain with reason. Though before the assault, the message “Those with white armbands are allies” had been repeatedly spread, once the flames of rage ignited, the dazzling priestly robes would inevitably stand out far more than a simple strip of cloth.

Within ten minutes, the crowd had crossed the nearly undefended small cathedral district, approaching the circular plaza before the grand cathedral with almost no destruction or bloodshed.

Roars like a mountain avalanche and the clamor of weapons and spells echoed over Luan City. The cathedral’s solemn doors and ornate stained glass windows creaked ominously under the waves of sound. A priest clad in a white robe trimmed with gold dashed into the great hall, the holy light around him dim and flickering. His face was marked with scorched wounds—the scars left by the impact of a holy light assault cannon that had shattered his shield.

“They’re coming! They’re coming! Rioters! Rioters everywhere!” the priest shouted as he ran through the hall. “They have holy light too! Those rioters… they have holy light in their hands!”

The corridors were filled with frantic movement. Panicked clergy ran back and forth between the glittering doors like headless flies. A black-robed disciplinarian monk blocked the rushing priest. “Where are the church knights? The soldiers? The defenders outside?!”

“They’ve been scattered! The soldiers were broken by a sudden mercenary group, the knights were defeated by those in white armor, and the rest can’t hold them—those rioters are about to storm the cathedral!!”

A tremendous crash came from the plaza, mixed with the sound of something collapsing and shattering. The cathedral’s stained glass trembled violently. A bloodied cleric ran up from afar. “Father! Father! The barrier on the plaza is about to break!!”

Desperate cries echoed from all directions. “Where is the holy ritual? Why hasn’t the holy ritual been activated?”

“The small cathedral district has already fallen—the ritual there never activated from the start!”

“The bishop… where is the bishop?”

Finally, someone remembered the temporary bishop of Luan City, the one who should be in charge at this critical moment. The scarred priest grabbed the disciplinarian monk’s black robe, shouting without regard for etiquette, “Where is Bishop Flamberon?! Why isn’t he appearing?!”

“He’s in the prayer chamber… communicating with the divine…”

“There’s no time left—the rioters are about to break in!”

“I’ll go get him!”

Boom after boom echoed from the plaza. The cathedral’s doors and windows began to shake. The trembling priests and clerics gathered in the great hall of the massive building, the last group of church knights forming a protective circle in front of the spellcasters. All eyes fixed on the gilded white doors. Some whispered prayers, others cursed loudly. Each summoned their holy light, ready to respond the moment the doors were breached.

When the “mob” first stormed the cathedral district, no one expected the force they faced to be so formidable. They had believed their own supernatural powers, combined with the cathedral district’s holy ritual, would tear apart any invader. But reality shattered all hope: the cathedral district’s ritual had never activated, and those “rioters”… they wielded holy light too.

In this land ruled by the God of Holy Light, there existed holy light beyond the god’s control!

A terrified cleric listened to the sounds outside, trembling as he whispered, “Those wielding holy light and warhammers… where did they come from?!”

“The church never trained such… monsters,” a church knight wiped sweat and blood from his brow, struggling to steady his grip on his sword. “Their holy relics are powerful, and they seem tireless when casting. We tried to strike during their casting intervals, but half our men were killed by their relentless holy light assaults… they’re monsters!”

“The… the church will save us…”

Suddenly, the explosions outside ceased. The nearly hopeless priests felt a surge of joy, but the battle-hardened church knights and disciplinarian monks’ faces turned pale instantly. “The door’s defenses have been broken!!”

The light barrier covering the cathedral doors finally shattered under the relentless assault, fracturing like shattered white crystal into countless flying shards. Two towering White Knights swung their heavy mechanized warhammers with all their might against the gilded white doors. The repulsion mechanisms and gravity adjustment runes inside the hammers activated in an instant, unleashing a terrifying impact capable of pulverizing stone. With a deafening crash, the doors of Luan Cathedral splintered into pieces.

“Activate shields!”

The White Knights charged through the breach first, each activating the energy shields on their armor. A sacred white light enveloped these warriors—battlefield priests in armor—as they strode through the dust, letting out their distinctive battle cries: “The healers are here!!”

Amid the chaos and dust, a dozen or so holy light spells of varying strength flew toward them, rippling across the White Knights’ energy shields. Light hefting a heavy mechanized warhammer, undaunted, pressed forward through the onslaught. As the dust settled, he saw the scene ahead—seven or eight battered church knights forming a faltering line, their metal shields and armor faintly glowing with holy light. Without magical capacitors or overload modules, human bodies could only output so much energy. Behind them stood dozens of robed priests and clerics, fragile and vulnerable.

This was the last line of defense for Luan Cathedral?

The weak clergy and their guarding church knights clustered at the far end of the hall. Those still brave enough shouted curses at the invading White Knights and the surging “mob”: “You damned scum possessed by demons! You’ll burn in hell a thousand times over! The God of Holy Light will—”

But their curses did nothing to stop the White Knights. As elite soldiers turned from professional warriors, the first wave of White Knights executed the battle drills they had practiced countless times in their combat corps—raising shields, finding nearby cover, pulling grenades from their belts, releasing safeties, and hurling them, followed by a volley of assault cannon fire.

A brutal explosion drowned out all opposition from the Luan clergy. Amid the smoke and thunderous blasts, only bursts of holy light flickered on and off.

Light led his team forward, warhammer in hand. Through the haze, he saw a few remaining Luan priests and church knights still active. These survivors clung to life through protective artifacts, sheer luck, and the support of comrades. Seeing the advancing White Knights, one priest instinctively raised his hand, conjuring a searing orb of light and launching it at Light.

Light didn’t dodge. The orb flew straight at him—and then, a tiny, translucent figure suddenly appeared from thin air. With astonishing agility, it caught the orb, then began nibbling on it before fading away.

The priest who had launched the attack gasped in horror: “…Demons… demons!! You’re all demons!!”

Light tightened his grip on his warhammer and approached the babbling priest. “You label everyone who opposes you as demons and heretics, yet you’ve forgotten the true doctrine of holy light. The power of judgment belongs to justice, but in your hands… enough talk. Time for a megaton hammer strike!!”

The battle in the cathedral’s main hall was over in a matter of minutes. As the last enemy fell, Leight hoisted his warhammer back onto his shoulder and glanced at his men beside him. “There can’t be only this few inside the cathedral… The other clerics are probably hiding in the rooms and secret passages. Split up and search everywhere. And make sure to tend to the wounded civilians and volunteer mercenaries as you go.”

The White Knights nodded and dispersed, while more mercenaries, adventurers, and armed townsfolk began sweeping through the cathedral and its nearby annexes, clearing out the hiding clerics room by room. Yet, despite the seemingly smooth progress, Leight couldn’t help but furrow his brow.

A shadow flickered in the air beside him, and Amber leapt down from it onto the floor. “Franbelin isn’t among these clerics.”

In that instant, Leight realized where the uneasy feeling in his gut was coming from. Almost simultaneously, he sensed a strange surge of energy emanating from deep within the cathedral.

A White Knight on nearby watch also detected the anomaly—his visor, designed to pick up unusual magical fluctuations, revealed a gathering of dangerous energy. “High Patriarch! Something’s wrong! It’s coming from underground!”

“I’m going to check it out!”

(End of chapter)