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

Even now, the people in the eastern mines remain isolated. They are unwilling to interact with foreigners, nor are they willing to take the opportunity to improve themselves. They continue their work day after day, unchanged for decades, still hoping that the enemy's invasion is probably only related to the capital.

Even now, Garsen, who successfully usurped the throne in the capital, shows no intention of stepping forward. He is indulging in pleasure; he shouldn't be in that position in the first place, and he didn't even have the need to kill his own brother. He could have been living a better life in the better Roman Empire.

After watching the Old Cult's army of believers barely manage to hold off the ever-growing undead onslaught with nearly half their numbers dead, Cecilia gently placed her hand on the shoulder of the witch, who couldn't stop chuckling.

It is human nature to seek advantage and avoid harm, and the mistakes made by a group are ultimately mistakes—the corrupt parish's past actions against the demons, the uncultured Romans' evil deeds against their own kind, the oppression by the nobles, and the inaction of the royal family.

These crimes cannot be forgiven.

Even if someone is forgiven by humans, it doesn't mean that a truly just god will forgive them.

Moreover... are deities truly impartial?

We live in a world rife with sin, the saint thought, but at least we should have seized that last chance to climb...

...

She recalled once again the scene where Yang Hao almost begged her for help. She remembered the disappointment she felt when she heard that he valued the country more than herself, and that disappointment intensified her hatred for herself.

There was no turning back now—Cecilia truly accepted this fact. For a moment, she genuinely felt the urge to cry, but remembering that the nuns and her people were watching her, the saint held back the tears that were about to spill.

Yes, there's no going back now. My past naiveté and stubbornness are not an excuse to cover up all my mistakes and crimes.

Cecilia believes herself to be the culprit behind the destruction of the Roman Empire. She is willing to bear all the responsibility—even if it is futile.

"...Priscilla. Cheer up."

She spoke in a trembling yet firm voice.

"Since the enemy is no match for us, then...we can win."

At least starting today.

She can strive for her people, even if it's all in vain.

At least she can at least face her way into hell, rather than going to a deeper, more filthy place.

"Yes, we can win."

The witch simply smiled blankly at this.

"But even if we win, what happens after we win?"

What happens after you win?

The witch's question silenced the saintess. In the end, the saintess, who hadn't even considered what to do after winning, could only reply as she watched the old cult begin clearing out the undead:

"...Let's win first, then we'll think about the rest."

Only after winning can we consider what comes next. The saintess pondered, while the witch only laughed even more heartily.

"Hehehe...that's true...win first, then consider it later—isn't that the same old thinking of us Romans? In the end, we can't change anything...we can't change anything."

For a witch, even if she wins, it doesn't matter if the victory doesn't change anything. In that case, it's better to lose the battle and then escape or die.

The former could at least prolong her life, while the latter could at least live a carefree life—her only attachment to this world was her magical research, but since magical research could not change the current Roman people, why couldn't she escape or die for herself?

At least she has the right to live or die for herself.

"...At least we can make one evil god flustered in this battle. That's enough. If we can really win, we'll have plenty of opportunities to change our views in the future. But now...Priscilla, I command you—calm down."

But Priscilla's self-abandonment...

Cecilia gave her orders as if she were a completely different person.

At this moment, she resembled a tyrant rather than a benevolent saint. Faced with her command, Priscilla smiled again:

"Yes, yes... Calm down, calm down—at least you're the leader of the Protestant Church, and I'm just your advisor... So be it. Prepare for our next life or death. But Cecilia..."

We can't even change anyone besides the ascetics behind us. The late king couldn't do it, and neither could Yang Hao... What do you think we can do?"

"do not know."

"Hehe...I knew it."

The Night Witch took a step back and planted her staff on the ground. They watched silently as the Old Cult's army slaughtered the last of the undead, and although the remaining Old Cult troops were numerous, they were now far fewer in number than before.

If the Catholic army could have completely overwhelmed the Protestants with sheer numbers from the start, then if the Catholic army were to charge forward now, there is a risk of being pushed back.

In the era of cold weapons, even a single earthen wall less than a meter high could cause the attackers to suffer extremely heavy casualties in siege warfare, let alone the solid earthen ramparts that the Protestants had under their feet that were several meters high.

Lacking long-range weapons or other means of combat, the Protestant conscripts could easily use deliberately dug cracks in the earthen ramparts to thrust spears at the attacking soldiers below, achieving a position of rest and conserved strength. Meanwhile, the Catholic soldiers could only launch a difficult attack from several chokepoints, carrying small ladders made from their personal shields...

It's impossible for Peter the Elder not to see that he was destined to fail. He needed his army to be locked in a stalemate with the enemy, or even unable to make any progress, but that didn't mean he would accept defeat and allow the God of Light to punish him before appearing in person.

So after much thought, Peter the Baptist focused his attention on the Bone Demon.

These things, even dumber than the most idiotic golems, don't understand human speech at all, and probably won't make any dodging moves on the battlefield—but that's enough.

The God of Light will exhaust his power, the Saintess will be constantly on the move, and in the end, the Witch might even exhaust the region's magic power and become an ordinary mortal.

enough.

That was enough—so Peter patiently refrained from sending his army to attack, instead waiting, waiting, waiting for the second oracle from the God of Light, and waiting for the third oracle from the God of Light, who was extremely impatient.

The cult leader then feigned fear and anxiety, kneeling on the ground and pleading:

"Great Lord, we have lost the ability to break through the enemy's defenses due to the attack by the undead. Please allow the skeletal messengers to launch a swift attack, so that we can break through the Protestant defenses under their guidance and achieve the victory and prisoners you desire!"

The God of Light did not reply, but watching the skeletal demon, after a moment of silence, sweep across the edge of their army and launch its attack under the light spell cast once again by the Protestant saint in the pre-dawn darkness...

The cult leader knew his plan had succeeded. He ordered his army to follow the skeletal demons, but under no circumstances should they get too close.

This is not about caring about the lives of the soldiers.

It's purely because he wants to dawdle.

"Cecilia...you are a saintess who possesses great power even without relying on the God of Light—do it, wear down my lord's power, so that I may have the foundation to become a god...hurry, do it!"

Peter the Elder stared wide-eyed, his excitement palpable as he looked at the Protestant stronghold.

Then he saw a silver-white spear of light appear on the highest watchtower of the earthen rampart. Under his gaze, the spear of light hurled itself directly into the head of the leading skeletal demon, and with a flash of light, the demon's momentum came to a halt.

This was merely a probing attack—Public Leader Peter thought, hardly even qualifying as a murderous strike from the saint. For if the saint truly intended to kill someone, she wouldn't have hurled the spear of light at what appeared to be the hardest point on the skeletal demon.

The saintess was testing the skeletal demon's toughness—just as the bishop Peter was feeling a little nervous about his plan, he saw the skeletal demon that had been hit launch another attack.

"It seems to be a unit with extremely strong resistance to divine magic... Heh, it's good that I have you as a target."

Peter the Elder stated this.

As the skeletal demon, now struck, launched another attack, Saint Cecilia casually summoned an even larger spear of light and gave the order to the nuns beside her to fire.

Silver-white spears of light appeared above the earthen ramparts, and with the saintess's command, a torrential rain of spears of light instantly filled the array of skeletal demons.

Of these, only one skeletal demon was truly destroyed.

The demon that the saint deliberately hurled a spear of light at its core, using almost one-twentieth of her divine power, instantly shattered into countless skeletons. The flying weapons and shields nearly knocked over several of the front ranks of the Old Cult army—but upon reflection, these demons were still outrageously tough.

“Divine magic is not very effective against them. Apart from me, the ascetics must concentrate their firepower to hinder or kill one of them… Priscilla, try your magic. I will try to continue to cut off the power of the God of Light, but we need to know their weaknesses.”

Cecilia turned around and, using the divine power flowing from the God of Light to condense a spear of light and throw it again, she discovered that the divine power flowing through her was becoming less and less.

It seems that the God of Light has found a way to prevent the leakage of divine power as much as possible—although Cecilia knows this is not good news, she is no longer panicked.

She repeatedly confirmed that she could only condense the spear of light through her own power, while the Night Witch threw a crystal formed from magic power at the distant skeletal demon.

The black crystals were too conspicuous in the light, but the skeletal demons made no attempt to avoid them, and simply ran straight into the grand gift that Priscilla had prepared for them.

The magic was applied directly to the grotesque body of the skeletal demon. It easily destroyed the skeletal shell that Cecilia's spear of light struggled against, easily shattered its inner core, and finally caused the skeletal demon to explode from the inside out.

The explosion was far more violent than the one caused by Cecilia—Priscilla watched thoughtfully as a long line of the Old Cult's army was felled by the shrapnel before offering his own observation:

"They are not very resistant to magic. But the parish's magic reserves are not high. I can only take down twenty of them at most, maybe even less."

"That's enough—I could take down twenty of them too."

"What about the remaining ten?"

"We are not one person."

Cecilia signaled to the nuns waiting beside her to sound the horn. With the sound of the horn, the conscripts who had been resting in the rear timidly stepped onto the battlefield and, under the supervision of the nuns, stood at the forefront of the earthen ramparts, spears in hand.

Looking at this rabble that could barely put up a fight under the threat of the wolves, Priscilla shook his head and said nothing in the end.

Cecilia knew she was exaggerating a bit—but together they could take down forty of them. That was enough.

The remaining seven or eight ascetic women can handle it.

The only task these conscripts had to do was prevent the Catholic army from climbing the earthen ramparts and causing trouble for the nuns.

If they can do this... if they can find a way to maintain morale for a while... they can win.

As long as the God of Light doesn't descend.

Cecilia gritted her teeth and once again conjured a spear of light powerful enough to kill the skeletal demon, fighting for survival and her last faith.

In Constantinople, which is under Bayer's control.

The Bayer Zans cheered wildly, showering flowers and blessings upon a fully equipped army ready to go.

Their king will personally lead an expedition to slay the god of light who has blasphemed their ancestors in this world.

Chapter Fourteen: 1/5 The Army of the United Nations - 8K

May 20th, the darkness before dawn.

Cecily had to maintain the battlefield light to guide the nuns and witches, while also personally destroying the approaching skeletal demons in front of the earthen ramparts. She was juggling two tasks while simultaneously commanding the troops; had it not been for the witches' assistance, the Protestant Church might have already collapsed on the front lines due to their disarray.

Although those skeletal demons lacked the intelligence to dodge, their charge was incredibly fast—while the Protestant nuns and Cecilia herself could use divine magic to stop them, these obstacles would ultimately be ineffective if they couldn't be killed directly.

"Just like controlled puppets... these guys just charge forward headlong and swing their weapons randomly during the charge—but if that's all... they're not that much of a threat."

The Night Witch murmured as she unleashed her magic once more, utterly destroying the nearest skeletal demon. While these demons weren't particularly effective against magical attacks, the parish's magical reserves weren't as abundant as those of the capital.

In the capital, he had his own mage tower, a group of mages to assist him, and even some magic stored inside the mage tower for emergencies—but in the parish, the magic reserves here were almost dwindling with every use.

The speed of mana regeneration is worrying, but what's even more concerning is the speed of the skeletal demons' attacks. Although the nuns have begun to concentrate their forces against a single skeletal demon and have successfully reduced their numbers, more demons have taken advantage of the favorable conditions of having no suppressive fire to launch surprise attacks on the front lines.

At least five demons would reach the earthen rampart—the Night Witch calculated, then turned and shouted as she tried to magically destroy any demons that might be heading towards her and Cecilia's location:

"Cecilia?! They're almost at the city walls—stop using the Light Spear against them, quickly cast Tranquility on the conscripts, hurry!"

Rather than killing the unstoppable skeletal demons that are confirmed to crash into the earthen ramparts and create an opening for the Old Cult soldiers to attack, it is more important to ensure that the morale of our own soldiers does not collapse as a result.

The nuns have nothing to worry about. Their morale is so high that it's practically invincible. But the conscripted soldiers below the nuns, lacking mid-level officers to command, are a real ticking time bomb.