After being forced to step down, the once-annoying nun eloped with me.

All I can say is, poor Finn—she's long past the age of puberty, and even elven magic can't change her figure... Perhaps in the future, she'll only be able to drown in her own chopping board in the war of body shape?

Theresa laughed heartily, showing no intention of continuing to tease the furious Finn for the time being.

Soon, they had everything ready. The wedding was just around the corner, but for Yang Hao and Teresa, there wasn't much to say about their wedding.

He receives the blessings of his people, then speaks in the church, and finally, inexplicably, under the guidance of Teresa, who is both the bride and the pastor, he vows to marry her.

Aside from the somewhat comical scene where Teresa earnestly asks herself if she is willing to marry Yang Hao, while simultaneously having to say "yes" herself, there's not much else to say.

Everyone watched with smiles as the wedding proceeded in chaos, while Fen, after sulking, sat down in the spot closest to the wedding venue and drank juice to vent her anger.

She watched as Yang Hao and his companion took the final step of the wedding. She, along with Naruja and Natalia not far away, watched the man and woman share their final kiss. Although they knew they would do it countless times that night, the fact that it was done so openly still filled them with envy.

(well.)

The little elf sighed, no longer interested in the upcoming wreath-throwing scene. After all, she hadn't produced anything yet, and had already disappointed many elves.

(What a shallow man. What's so great about that flabby chest?)

The little elf sighed again. She took another sip of juice to ease her negative emotions, and in that instant, she looked up and saw Teresa and Yang Hao throwing wreaths into the sky together.

(At Bayer Nuggets, it seems that if a wreath hits an unmarried woman, it signifies a blessing for her pursuit of love? And apparently, a request can be made? I wonder which lucky person will land on the wreath?)

The little elf lowered its head. After closing its eyes, it drank the last drop of juice in one gulp—

She felt something light and airy hit her head, and then it just happened to hang around her neck.

No way? It can't be such a coincidence, can it?

Fen was momentarily stunned.

When she opened her eyes... she saw a wreath around her neck, a nun with a twitching mouth giving her a "you decide what to do" look, and unmarried women around her casting envious glances at her.

She touched the wreath around her neck, then suddenly remembered—if she hit the wreath, it seemed she would have the right to make a request?

Thank you so much, Theresa. If there's a chance next time, I definitely won't have any complaints about the extra flesh on your chest.

"..."

With this in mind, Fen silently got up and took out the wreath.

Then, she smiled at Yang Hao, who was not far away, and, using the power granted to her by the traditions of Bayern, pointed at Caesar, who had been married for less than two minutes:

"Next time, it's your turn to marry me."

"This is my legitimate request," Fen muttered, but she was also worried about Yang Hao's possible refusal.

As the elf spoke, the entire venue fell silent.

The elves present showed expressions of relief, while the Bayrjans looked at each other, and finally, without prior agreement, all turned their gaze to Lord Caesar and Her Majesty Queen Baselisa.

Baselisa didn't seem to object at all; after all, it was something she had promised Finn, and it was something she had to do within her power.

Yang Hao looked somewhat bewildered, but soon, under the furtive nudge of his new wife, this man, who already knew that his marriage might not be entirely up to him, gave a bitter smile:

"So, are you planning to go to Gaparia or Constantinople?"

He knew he had no choice but to accept Finn's open and aboveboard marriage proposal—not only because the United Nations truly needed a stronger bond to take things a step further, but more importantly, Theresa had no intention of objecting; on the contrary, she was urging him to win.

Did you two reach some kind of secret agreement?

The man sighed, deciding to teach his wife a lesson tonight.

With his approval, the venue became lively again, and the other girls, each with their own thoughts, became even more determined to follow Fen's example and try to get the wreath they wanted next time.

......

This is the last time of celebration and peace for the United Nations during this period.

After today, everyone will have to toil for the life and war to come.

In the north, in Panlan, the former capital of Polan, the Great Khan had used every means at his disposal to incorporate all the nobles and capable generals of Polan, and successfully relocated his people to Polan to recuperate and thrive.

He didn't plan to head south so quickly because he needed more and better equipment, to train his soldiers, and to understand the current Roman tactics in order to prepare supplies for the army's southward march.

These actions would take a considerable amount of time. Therefore, Khuttod Khan decided to launch an offensive in June of this year, while prior to June, they would be able to focus on recuperation and rebuilding.

Meanwhile, on the sea, the colony fleet of Ysgard finally arrived at the waters that were about to approach the continent of Elusia.

Their commander judged that they would enter the waters around Port Drake by the end of February, which meant that they would officially launch their attack at the end of February.

Intelligence from the [merchant] stationed at Drake Port indicates that only new recruits and some veterans remain to garrison the port of the Roman Military District.

This is the most vulnerable point for the entire Drake Harbor—but the problem is that they might be intercepted by the Allese fleet on their way to attack.

"Instead of passively enduring resistance, let's turn the tables and attack their homeland first! Men, immediately dispatch a fleet to approach the Aresai Islands. I want to see if the Aresai will allow their homeland to be attacked for the sake of Roman!"

The commander's solution to the problem was very simple, and he had learned it from Miss Black Dragon.

Everything is proceeding in an orderly manner.

In Roman, however, a new chaos has begun once again.

This is because the parish's smog has reappeared after several years.

Chapter Nine:

.....

2 month 15 day.

While the leader of the Church of Peter was methodically preparing to accumulate land and increase his strength before engaging in a final battle with the Holy Maiden.

In St. Petersburg, the city protected by the angels of hymns who constantly shed rotting flesh from the sky, fog suddenly spread from top to bottom, and the golden-gray fog was spreading through the city at a slow but steady pace.

Soon, the fog billowed out of the city. As the believers, mistaking it for a divine blessing, rushed forward in ecstasy to embrace it, “a gift from the Lord,” the arriving Bishop Peter and his corps of bishops witnessed the scene of them being swallowed by the fog and howling in anguish.

The crowd exchanged bewildered glances, while Peter the Elder's face turned ashen.

There was no other reason than that only he knew best that this was an action made by the God of Light "unintentionally"—those golden hazes were not some "gift," but clearly the punishment for murder, and not only murder, but this haze now seemed to have an effect unique to the God of Light... it was a thoroughly modified and terrifying phenomenon.

“We cannot allow those things to spread in the parish.”

Watching the "living corpses" groan and die in the golden-gray mist, their souls vanishing without a trace only to rise again, Leader Peter, his face ashen, shouted...

"Quickly lead them out of the parish to a populated area! These things are far more brutal than last time! Hurry! Otherwise, my Lord might eat us all before we've filled our stomachs! Hurry!"

Several years ago, when the Roman Empire exiled the regent, it pinned a charge on him called the "smog incident."

In fact, apart from the saints and the ascetics, the other bishops in the diocese were well aware that the so-called "smog" was actually an experiment conducted by their God of Light.

Perhaps it's to explore a physical way to make nonbelievers believe in him, perhaps it's simply to kill nonbelievers, or perhaps the God of Light now not only wants to kill nonbelievers but also intends to use their corpses.

In short, this smog is far more severe than the last one. The last grayish-white smog at most caused discomfort and posed a risk of death to those with weakened immune systems—unlike this!

They devoured even the soul completely, leaving only the traces of the soul's injuries visible on the corpse, which was then transformed into a living dead...

The power of the God of Light should not be underestimated.

Looking at the ever-accumulating golden mist, Bishop Peter, sweating profusely, thought to himself, "I must guide this golden-gray mist out before it engulfs the entire parish!"

Otherwise, not only would that scoundrel saintess not die, but Chief Peter himself would also die in this fog of the God of Light!

The person is dead, so how can he betray that God of Light? Therefore, no matter what... Leader Peter has to try his best.

He reflected on the properties of the fog.

The Light God's "smog" will move towards "people"... In other words, as long as this fog is deliberately guided to populated areas, one can minimize the chances of being "accidentally harmed" by the God.

But where exactly should we direct it?

Leader Peter was extremely anxious. The Monster Forest and the Elf Forest were definitely out of the question. On one hand, the inhabited areas were deep within the forest, and the luring team might get caught by the [Smog] in the tangled jungle, resulting in them not being led to the designated location. This would cause the [Smog] to flow back into the parish, ultimately causing even greater losses, which would be a net loss.

If the Demon Forest doesn't work, what about the Saintess?

After thinking for a moment, Peter the Elder shook his head: No.

Let's set aside whether the Saintess is aware of the effects of this "smog" for now... There are too few people there; who knows, before the "smog" has had its fill and dissipated, the "smog" lingering in the parish might continue its advance towards their side...

And the Holy Maiden surely knows how to use this smog. If she were to turn it on my base, that would be terrible...

So, does that mean we can only...

Did they direct the smog towards the heart of the Roman Empire?

Although many have died in the central region of the Roman Empire, a considerable number remain, preparing for this year's spring planting... Moreover, the territory of the central region of the Roman Empire is vast enough that even if the God of Light needed to devour millions of people to satisfy his hunger, He would still have to spend a significant amount of time in the central region...

Um...

Let's do it this way!

Anyway, it's not my people who are dying, so what's there to be afraid of?

Peter the Elder immediately understood his plan. He ordered his bishops to lead the unsuspecting believers to the center of the Roman Empire, and then, once the smog was successfully guided, to abandon the believers and return immediately.

"Remember! Tell them that this is a series of actions taken by the God of Light to bless the Central District. Tell them that as long as they go to a town in the Central District, they can immediately receive the blessing... Then you must secretly come back immediately, whether by divine magic or whatever—come back immediately, understand?!"

"Yes, Master."

The bishops nodded and then left immediately.

On the afternoon of the 15th, under the expectations of Bishop Peter and the watchful gaze of St. Mary in the distance, this golden-gray haze formed a river of death separating the Protestants and Catholics, slowly approaching southward under the guidance of the bishops and believers.

The saintess had no idea what these things were... but Priscilla beside her knew exactly what they were.

“…It’s essentially something like magical remnants.” She said, taking out paper and pen to scribble and draw, then recording the golden-gray river of haze in her most treasured spellbook. “I’m not entirely sure if the God of Light’s divine magic includes something like this, but in short—they seem to have the ability to kill life directly at the soul level, revealing the wounds while temporarily controlling the corpse… Cecilia, look at the river. Isn’t there someone moving there?”

Cecilia remained silent for a long time, then nodded to the corpses moving downstream in the misty river:

"Yes. There is indeed someone there... a believer."

"What? Don't you know what your god is capable of?"

“…I don’t know.” Cecilia shook her head blankly. “I…have always learned about the greatness of God from ancient books…but I haven’t seen him with my own eyes—even last time, in the Holy City, it was just a blurry figure of a man…he didn’t seem as great as I imagined at all, and I don’t know why.”

“Perhaps the scriptures you’re reading are different from others.” Priscilla shrugged, watching the golden river gradually move towards the center of the Roman Empire. “After all, I’ve learned that the saints and ascetics used the most original scriptures, while the current believers use the modified ones—in fact, you are the old church, while Peter and his followers are the new church.”

"...Then which side is my god on?"

“I tend to not take his side at all. Oh well, let’s be prepared… We’ve barely managed to get things sorted out in all aspects of the territory. If nothing unexpected happens, once the river flows into central Roman, the now-divided Roman Empire will immediately channel its hostility into the dioceses after suffering losses—they might launch a retaliatory attack then, so let’s be prepared.”

"..."

The saintess did not speak, but simply nodded to indicate that she understood.

She was completely bewildered by what was happening before her eyes.