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

The elven commander was already suspecting he had been exposed. If things continued this way, the Redeemer soldiers at the front would soon discover the ambushers hidden deep behind them. If they couldn't eliminate the priests and drive these most demoralized madmen to the brink of collapse, even with the help of the golems, the elven and demonic allied forces would suffer heavy losses.

If the priest decides not to advance any further, the commander could try attacking the Redeemers below to create chaos and confuse the priest's judgment. However, if he did so, he would lose his original objective of killing the priest and the Apostles.

To fight or not to fight?

At this moment, the elven commander was making a difficult choice between the most important objective and the most conservative outcome. Meanwhile, in the distance, the priest was finally starting to lose his composure.

If this continues, the soldiers at the front will be left without his protection. His inexplicable sense of foreboding might just be a warning sign of the many bad things he's done.

"At worst, we can offer a virgin to the God of Light as atonement when we get back," the priest thought, and ordered the palanquin bearers, "we should move on."

However, he still ensured at least two layers of individual divine barriers for himself before concentrating the rest of his divine power on area-of-effect spells. He needed his soldiers to advance tirelessly with the highest morale, he needed the warriors of the Redemption Army to bring him glory and wealth, he needed many things—and those things could not be dirtied by the priests.

Let you become the sinners who murder for my money—the priest's body swayed slowly as the palanquin was carried, with the stern-faced knights accompanying him.

He was no longer afraid of those inexplicable premonitions.

His triumphant advance finally gave the elven commander an opportunity!

The fat man sitting on the sedan chair finally fucking moved forward!

He raised his head, held his hand high, and then suddenly pulled it down.

Then all the elven riflemen raised their guns as instructed. With the slightest movement, they pulled back the bolts and chambered the bullets. With their exceptional skill and the finest sights, they aimed at the swaying figures on the palanquin. At that very moment, the Redemption Army cannon fodder, who had ventured deep into the forest, had already penetrated 300 meters.

The soldier, now far removed from the priest's divine influence, felt somewhat exhausted. He plopped down, panting, on a large rock shallowly buried in the ground. Because he was so far removed from the priest's divine grace, the illusion of paradise before him vanished, replaced by an inexplicably quiet forest, the pounding of his own heart, and the smell of blood on his hands.

He wanted to rest for a while.

The priest's advance, however, infused divine power into his body.

He felt himself filled with power once again, and once again the guidance of angels and the imminent arrival of heaven appeared before him—but just as he smiled and prepared to fight for the Lord, he was filled with a powerful presence.

-

The world suddenly stopped.

The deafening thunder roared in their ears, and the paradise before their eyes shattered. The Redemption Army soldiers hadn't even had time to react to what was happening, hadn't even realized why thunder was roaring above them. In the eyes of the elven commander, the priest sitting in the palanquin was probably dead.

Four hundred shooters, with over three hundred 12.7x108mm caliber rifles, aimed their sights at the priest's entire body.

With a volley of arrows fired in perfect unison—the priest was dead.

The two single-target magical shields he released could normally stop an elven archer from firing a dozen or so fully charged rounds at close range. But clearly, against 300 seemingly insignificant yet impactful bullets fired from what was called a "rifle," two single-target shields were far from sufficient.

His body was still in shock just before the barrier shattered, and his knights hadn't even realized what the thunder from the forest meant before the priest's divine barrier was destroyed.

The shattering of the barrier allowed the remaining bullets to pierce his flesh with impunity. In the elves' eyes, his corpse swelled unnaturally with each bullet that pierced it, before finally exploding into pieces, allowing subsequent bullets to strike the heads of the knights of the Guards of the Church following behind him without any obstruction.

Bullets pierced the armor of the Guardian Knights, blasting their heads or shoulders apart. The worst victim was struck in the chest and abdomen by more than a dozen bullets simultaneously, splitting him in two before everyone's eyes—his upper body flew into the air from the impact, while his lower body remained on his horse. Blood splattered from his mangled corpse, finally making the knights realize the problem.

"Your Excellency, Priest?!"

They stared in astonishment at the enormous, mangled corpse on the palanquin, its intestines dangling everywhere.

Up in the tree, the elven commander was simply roaring with excitement:

"continue!!"

boom--

Another volley of fire followed, and with the knights of the Guardian Army falling to the ground, the priest's divine magic finally became completely ineffective.

In the instant the divine magic failed, the beautiful paradise in the eyes of all the Redemption Army soldiers shattered into a broken mirror. They looked up blankly at the white smoke rising from the trees, then looked down at the muddy, blood-stained earth studded with arrows.

Without the divine magic, the fatigue from their morning march immediately overwhelmed them.

Without their divine magic, the fear they had felt when facing the elven arrow rain instantly overwhelmed them.

Having lost their divine magic, they no longer had the courage to face the dark forest and the thunder in the sky.

And at that very moment, someone turned around, looked at the chaotic scene of the religious guards and the half-dead body on the palanquin, and cried out in terror:

"Priest! The priest is dead!! We've lost! Run, run!"

boom--!

The collapse of order happened in an instant. Before the cannon fodder running back could even squeeze into the crowd, arrows shot from behind pierced their heads.

The overwhelming rain of arrows further exacerbated the chaos among the Redemption Army soldiers in the trap zone. Before they could even raise their shields in a scream, the distant roar of cannons, like a volcanic eruption, and the falling stones not only shattered the shields in the soldiers' hands but also shattered their last remaining hope.

In their panic, they ran headlong into a golem that had sprung up from the ground, and were smashed to the ground by the giant's massive head, turning into a bloody mess.

Some Redeemers who were further away from the trap zone turned back to try to escape the forest, but they hadn't gone far when axes from deep underground severed their ankles.

"Aaaaaah—Waaaaah—!!"

The wounded soldiers clutched their severed Achilles tendons and howled in agony, while under their horrified gazes, a demon wearing a cheap cross-shaped necklace crawled out of the tunnel and stared intently at the wailing soldiers with bloodshot eyes filled with hatred.

Seeing the demon wearing a cross necklace, the soldier hurriedly took out his own cross and shouted:

"Fellow believers! Fellow believers! I am also a follower of the Church of Light! It's a misunderstanding, all a misunderstanding!!!"

The demon swung his axe down.

After hacking the soldiers to pieces alive, he raised his axe and roared in the demon language:

"We do not believe in the God of Light! We only believe in the Light!"

Chapter Six: The Demise of the Redemption Army

The dawn of June 15th, in the deepest darkness before dawn.

When Bishop Stephen's messenger arrived at the Redeemer camp, he was astonished to find that apart from a few dozen supply soldiers still organizing arrows and other supplies, the entire camp, which had tens of thousands of people, was deserted.

"Where have they gone?!" The messenger grabbed a supply soldier by the collar. "Where's the priest?! Does he even know that this is disobeying Bishop Stephen's orders?!"

Bishop Stephen strictly ordered the Redemption Army to wait until the Northern Expeditionary Force had marched north together before launching any large-scale military operations. However, it was clear that while Bishop Stephen possessed some military acumen, it didn't mean his priests did. He probably couldn't have imagined that the biggest reason the priests were unwilling to obey the commandments was because he saw that the core of this Northern Expedition was profit, and victory was secondary.

In this situation, the best outcome for the Redeemers would be to be used as slaves. The worst outcome would be to be used as food reserves. For the Redeemers' priests themselves, this meant that they would receive almost nothing during this great expedition.

To avoid a complete loss, the priest decided to take a gamble, marching out in the dead of night before Bishop Stephen's messenger arrived—a time when even the birds were still. To further boost the morale of his 80,000 elite troops, he ordered the cooks to add all the addictive drugs to the breakfast prepared in advance that day...

Naturally, by the time Bishop Stephen's messenger arrived, they were already gone. Not only were they gone, but this vast army had already marched more than ten kilometers along the road. The soldiers were panting from the long march, but the drugs in their bodies provided them with a continuous, almost manic, surge of morale.

"May the God of Light protect you! May the God of Light protect you!"

Every soldier was praying loudly, every soldier's eyes were red, and when they looked at the dark monster forest in the distance, there was no fear in their eyes, but rather a greedy look as if they were looking at a wide-open vault.

The pastor and his apostolic guard were in the safest rear section. There, the pastor was arranging the final tasks.

"You will accompany me, acting as overseers outside the range of the elven longbowmen. I will then, once everything is safe, reduce the thickness of the divine barrier, providing these hungry soldiers with area-of-effect divine buffs," the priest continued, emphasizing the importance of [safety]. "A group shield, Tranquility to prevent morale collapse, Pain Relief to ignore pain, and Berserk to unleash their fury... This way, even if the elves still have arrows, they won't be able to withstand our attack."

“But that means we can only enter the Monster Forest. The Elf Forest is still a mysterious place for us,” the captain of the Guardian Army warned. “Once we get there, the Elf Mage Corps will take over.”

"Hmph! Elves wouldn't unleash strategic magic that would cause widespread damage in their own forests! Listen to me, listen to me—and you, that bankrupt village chief of Schul, keep a close eye on him. That coward will definitely sneak back under various pretexts. Just kill him then, so we don't have to share our spoils."

"Yes!"

The priest was immensely pleased to receive orders from the friars.

Just as dawn broke, the brilliant sunlight shone from the east upon the Redemption Army's marching formation. The priest, seated in his palanquin, smiled and raised his glass, saying, "Even the God of Light is celebrating for us; it seems victory is assured this time."

"May the God of Light bless us, victory is assured!"

"For victory!"

The Christian defenders also raised their glasses, and as they tilted the reddish-purple wine, they drank it all in one gulp, praying for the war that day.

Meanwhile, in the Demon Forest, an army of over 1 elves and demons was making intensive preparations.

Five thousand demon warriors of various types, who had volunteered for the army, were digging pits. They then carefully watched as the cheap, earthen golems entered the pits before burying them. Afterward, they covered their skin with green and earth-colored pigments to enhance their concealment in the forest. Under the command of the elves, they proceeded to await orders in an underground passage system known as the "Demon Forest Trail," located approximately 600 meters from the forest's edge.

These tunnels were originally left behind by demons who lived in underground caves. After being reinforced by the elves with magic, these tunnels became massive underground bunkers capable of accommodating tens of thousands of soldiers for hiding.

The tunnels were improved to be interconnected, all to quickly throw the Redeemers into chaos once they stepped into the trap. However, the elven commander in charge of the on-site operation knew perfectly well that the tunnels' effectiveness depended on the success of the decapitation strike against the priests and the Guardians of the Faith.

"Hurry! All riflemen, immediately take up positions in the trees and prepare your magical barriers to defend against arrows! Do not fire and reveal your position before the priests and friars are within our range!" The commander ran through the elven ranks, directing the elven archers wielding Japa 1404 rifles to the treetops for concealment. "Don't forget the stealth spell! We have enough mana here, so don't worry about conserving it! Hurry! They're coming!"

The core of this battle is to take advantage of the parish's current lack of understanding of elves to launch a perfect ambush.

The key to the ambush is to mislead the parish's judgment with arrows in the early stages, making the parish mistakenly believe that the elves are still in the previous archery era. Once the parish makes a misjudgment, the priests will underestimate the enemy and go to a place outside the longbowmen's range to wait and prepare divine spells.

At this point, the longbowmen should slowly retreat to give the Redeemers the illusion that the elves are withdrawing. The riflemen, on the other hand, must remain in the trees, enduring any rain of arrows rained down on them by the Redeemers.

They would wait until the priests advanced, until the friars appeared on the battlefield—and when that moment arrived, the riflemen would fire a volley at the priests under the commander's orders, aiming to kill the enemy commander, as well as the enemy reserves and military police.

Barring any unforeseen circumstances, the gunshots following the priest's death will serve as the signal for the buried golems and demon axemen to move. The golems will launch a surprise attack from underground; they are slow, ineffective targets for ordinary soldiers. The demon axemen can compensate for the golems' slow movement, while the elf recruits waiting in the rear, though not as powerful as regular soldiers or rangers, provide precise, close-to-mid-range support.

Faced with the simultaneous death of a priest, the loss of their divine spells, and a sudden onslaught from above, below, front, and both sides, even the most resilient legion would crumble, and those that didn't would be caught off guard and annihilated...

At that point, the Redemption Army will be completely defeated, and the soldiers who flee to the rear of the parish will become a source of information about the defeat at the front, further damaging the morale of the parish and becoming a troublesome bandit problem for the parish.

...

If only everything could go this smoothly. The elven commander thought, sweating profusely. The more complex the plan, the more likely it was to fail completely due to unforeseen events on the battlefield. And to avoid the complete failure of this main plan, the elven commander had actually prepared several other plans...

But those are just backup plans; at best, they can only protect oneself, not achieve the intended goal.

"—Commander! Eagle Ranger's signal! They're here!"

Just as the commander was pondering this, a rifleman waiting in a tree pointed eastward at their sun and shouted, "Damn it, we're still backlit, backlit!"

Couldn't the Redemption Army have chosen to launch their attack in the afternoon?! The elven commander shielded his eyes with his hand, nimbly climbed a tree, and from there, he saw the vast army in the distance.

As the intelligence indicated, an army of approximately 8 men was approaching the Demon Forest. The most elite among them were the four legionary formations at the forefront, their armor gleaming in the sunlight—though it was unclear whether those were just a few pieces of armor for show or if everyone was truly wearing armor, it was certain that these four legions were far more elite than the four grimy infantry formations behind them.

Not to mention, the subsequent vibrational changes of the Redemption Army confirmed the elven commander's guess—the four elite legions stopped to rest about 1200 meters away from the monster forest, while four dusty, cannon fodder formations stepped forward in a pathetic, chaotic formation and entered the range of the elven longbowmen.

Further away, the elven commander saw what appeared to be a palanquin used by priests, along with cavalry waiting around it.

(No, the distance is too far, I need to get closer.) He muttered to himself, then turned and waved to the ranger captain waiting below.

"Fire freely! Retreat immediately after five rounds!"

"Free fire! Five rounds!"

"Free fire!"

The elven commander's orders were effectively conveyed.

The rangers, regular soldiers, and some young archers skilled in long-range precision shooting, who were waiting below, drew their simple and practical elven longbows. All the elves were chanting incantations, perhaps for their loved ones, perhaps for honor, or perhaps simply to avenge their husbands who had died hundreds of years ago.

whoosh-

Even without verbal communication, elves will eventually find common ground with the group and launch a volley.