Ice Vapor Goddess

Chapter 18 War Armor
A whole squad of soldiers knelt before Xiren. Seven men, the squad leader’s tears streaming down his sapphire ring, reflecting Joseph’s incredulous expression.

He witnessed the whole process, and his emotions fluctuated with Xiren's words as he thought, "Hmm, that's well said." Only after the sermon ended did he realize: Heavenly Father! He had directly turned Ryan's guards into his followers just by talking?

Looking at the five men's repentant expressions and their unwavering gazes towards Xilun, they practically regarded him as a saint. But these were Renn's old subordinates, his personal guards brought from the south! There were only a little over seventy people to begin with, and Xilun had tricked away a quarter of them in one go.

Xilun sighed inwardly. He was confident he could persuade the soldiers, but the five men's devout appearance was completely unexpected. It just goes to show that the power of faith is indeed deeply rooted in this world.

Moreover, he did become somewhat emotional towards the end.

Blaming superiors, comforting themselves with "obeying orders," willingly becoming part of a massive machine, turning themselves into cogs and weapons, mass-producing death, and becoming devils under systematic control—this is exactly what some countries did during World War II.

It views killing and evil as a neutral "command," even as "a necessary evil leading to the great collective good," suppressing the present and the past in anticipation of a glorious future, and releasing violence and aggression.

Such dangerous ideas must not be allowed to have any trace in Speyside!
Xilun made a silent vow in his heart.

If this is the kind of future that the complete stranger, Ryan Hoffman, desires, then he must guide these lost sheep back to the right path, one by one.

After persuading this group of soldiers, Xilun made no further obstacles. On the way, they encountered two other groups of soldiers, but they just looked at this group with surprise and didn't say anything.

Finally, the gates of the Holy Treasury came into view.

Unlike the heavenly gates imagined by Xilun or certain doors adorned with sacred decorations, it is simply a steel gate, standing heavily at the end of a wrought-steel passageway.

On the gate, a line of words is engraved: "The poor must not be allowed to freeze to death in the wind and snow."

Xilun looked at it, remained silent for a moment, and then found the hole where the power ring was placed.

He placed the ring inside, activated his divine sense, and then a radiant holy light burst forth from it.

The sound of gears and machinery whirring emanated from inside the forged steel door. Red liquid, like blood, spread through the boiler pipes, and pale red steam spewed out from the cracks in the door, as if some ancient monster was awakening.

With a roar, the gate slowly opened.

The soldiers watched their backs warily, ignoring the potential wealth within the sacred treasury. Instead, they were devoted to guarding the place for Xilun. Having just repented and become devout believers, they regarded money as dirt, their only concerns being the safety of the saints and the teachings of the scriptures.

The first thing that catches the eye is a row of metal shelves, but they are all empty.

Xilun walked in alone, passing through half of the empty Holy Treasury, and finally saw the stored supplies.

Thick wool coats and corduroy trousers filled ten shelves; Joseph had mentioned these items during his presentation—he had watched these supplies being delivered and stored in the Holy Treasury.

Thick wool coats are common winter clothing for ordinary people in Albion. They are windproof, durable, and even somewhat waterproof, and in rural areas, they are often passed down as family heirlooms. Corduroy, on the other hand, is a fabric that has emerged in the last decade and is quite good at keeping warm.

Further inside were more than a dozen wooden crates. Xilun opened one and found it filled with neatly stacked glass jars of meat, nestled in cushioning straw, nine jars per crate. Further still, there was everything—red wine, potatoes, flour, yeast, paper, ink… mostly household goods.

As he walked to the end, just when Xilun thought that was all there was, he saw a pile of things wrapped in black cloth.

He lifted the cloth, and golden light filled his entire field of vision.

It was a whole pile of gold bars and coins, neatly arranged, reaching almost to his crotch.

Following the gold were the uniforms of the clergy, the armor and weapons of the guards, which filled only two shelves.

More were supposed to be transported, but apparently, those things had already collapsed on the snowfield along with the Northern Throne train.

Finally, Xilun arrived at the innermost part of the Holy Treasury.

At the end of the wall was only a gray wall, and there seemed to be nothing else. Xiren turned around, pondering how much that pile of gold was actually worth.

But at that moment, his hand inadvertently touched an inconspicuous mechanism. The steel plate vibrated violently, and with Xiren's shocked gaze, the wall at the end slowly slid open, revealing something he could never have imagined—

It was a suit of armor, over two meters tall—let's describe it that way for now. Forged from a thick, mysterious alloy, its golden metal shimmered with starlight, as if it had been imbued with the light of the starry sky since its creation. Its outer shell was mostly curved and arched, resembling a cavalryman's breastplate—a structure perfectly suited for guiding energy; bullets hitting it would ricochet and deflect. Its joints were protected by a perfectly designed armor, concealing any vulnerable connection points, yet allowing for free rotation.

Black vines and thorns entwine around every part of the golden armor, making it appear both sacred and ferocious, majestic yet terrifying. The black thorns converge at the chest to form a black Messianic cross, while scarlet paint is used to draw a symbol of fire rain on the heart, making it resemble a judgment angel who wields power and authority.

The steel plate on its back encases a miniature red mercury boiler, and the steel wings are tucked into the backpack slots. Even in its slumber, it exudes an undeniable power, like a god in mythology, seemingly able to penetrate time and space and wield the power of blood and fire even in the cold pages of a book.

Xilun stared at it blankly, standing there, at a loss.

He had read some fantasy comics, but he had never seen such a religiously themed armor that combined beauty and power, solemnity and violence. It was clearly made of intricate gears and linkages, yet it looked like armor bestowed by the gods.

"Steel Angel War Armor, β4 - Archangel".

An aged voice came from behind, and Xiren turned around abruptly to see Aldridge's face, which showed a complex expression.

The soldiers made way for him, after all, he was a respected rune master.

Xilun opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say.

He finally remembered that his senior brother had indeed mentioned that the armor he wore daily was "light armor," while in the face of war, they would have a set of special heavy armor. However, those things were usually kept as secret weapons in the church's treasury, and at Xilun's level at that time, they had no chance to see them.

Aldridge stroked the mythical metal and armor, runes flashing as he touched them, but a lingering sorrow remained on his face.

(End of this chapter)