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

All that remains for the parish are the ruins of what was once known as the Demon City, a few completely destroyed villages and towns on the parish's borders, the humiliation that will soon cause internal strife within the parish, and the words of the elven [City]. That is all.

Chapter Thirteen: Reactions from All Sides and the Elf's Increased Efforts

......

11 month.

After the diocese of St. Petersburg purged all believers who spread rumors and questioned the God of Light, and temporarily appeased the people with a large amount of money and honor, they finally opened the city gates and finally had time to clean up the corpses on the Demon City.

The process of assessing the losses terrified the parish, and the belated arrival and passive observation of the Roman Empire's border garrison only fueled the parish's anger. Both sides shifted blame, with the parish believing the military's inaction was the cause of their heavy losses, while the military bluntly stated that if they hadn't attacked the Elf Kingdom, none of this would have happened!

While they were punching and kicking each other, almost causing a military conflict between the diocese and the military, the bill representing the diocese's statistics was also sent to the bishops' council.

At this moment, the patriarch Peter looked like an obese and senile old man. He stared at the black and white words on the white paper, at the Gothic script, and his hands trembled violently.

The combined forces of elves and demons caught them off guard. With Bishop Stephen's army routed and the diocese in chaos due to the influx of new fleeing troops, the demons took advantage of their mobility to destroy several important villages and towns in St. Petersburg.

The villages were responsible for providing food—although the land in the north was not as fertile as that in the central district, at least in the northern parishes, these villages could still provide a considerable food output for the parish, provided there was still rain.

Those two towns were even more important. One was a "craftsman's town" primarily focused on metallurgy and forging, while the other, though not as important, had a large population of fanatical believers...

Now? It's all over!

"Those beasts who would rather destroy what they can't take with them! Those demons!"

The fat face of the parish priest Peter trembled incessantly; without uttering a word, sweat and grease dripped from his cheeks. The parish could lose many ordinary believers, could lose a few villages that provided food, but the one thing it absolutely could not afford to lose—the town of metallurgy and foundry!

Having lost the metallurgical plant and foundry, the parish struggled for a long time to maintain even its weapons and armor in large quantities.

Having lost the artisan town, the parish will have to spend decades retraining its own artisans!

Peter's heart was bleeding! He wasn't so heartbroken even when the treasure trove that was the Demon City was destroyed. After all, the wealth in the Demon City could be taken away, and the parish could earn it back sooner or later—but what about those artisans?! Those vital treasures were dead, what were we going to do?!

In the Roman Empire, it takes more than ten years to train a normal blacksmith! Every blacksmith is an important asset to the noble lands, even if he can only forge farm tools, blacksmiths are such precious beings!

Besides the blacksmiths, the carpenters and stonemasons are also invaluable assets! These craftsmen require a lot of resources to train, and their feedback to the parish is far more practical than that of a few hundred fanatics!

Not to mention armorers, leatherworkers, bow makers, and even seasoned miners who can survey mineral veins...

These people are the parish's greatest asset!

After all, the Roman Empire doesn't have the foundation of the Elven Kingdom. Those long-lived creatures who are bored and want to die have plenty of time to spend hundreds of years studying blacksmithing, but humans can't... Humans can only specialize in one industry for decades, not to mention that a blacksmith's children may not become blacksmiths, and even if they do, those new blacksmiths are hard to put to use immediately.

With so many craftsmen dead or missing, it's a real question whether the armor of the Griffin Knights and the Guardian Knights can be effectively maintained in the coming years!

For a moment, Peter felt dizzy and almost fainted on the brand-new marble round table.

And it was at this moment that the bishops, whose faces were equally grim, finally brought the pope some good news...

"Master Peter, at least thanks to our efforts, the believers have not yet believed the elves' claims... We have persuaded many believers with the tactic that 'elves do not lie but they will conceal things,' and we have spent countless funds... More importantly, none of those rumors have reached the ears of the saintess and the ascetic nuns, and there are no signs of a split in the Church of Light for the time being."

"...That's good news. What about the other places?"

"The royal family... seems to be in a meeting. General Dreschka seems to be shifting the blame directly onto us, so..."

"Get ready, I'll be right there."

Peter the Great sighed wearily.

A tiger fallen into the plains is bullied by dogs—if Bishop Stephen hadn't suffered a defeat, would the diocese have fallen to this state?

But now that things have come to this, he has no choice but to bite the bullet and go for it. He has to attend the roundtable meeting, and he needs to allow the parish to rest and recuperate for the time being.

......

The leader of the Church of England was preparing to travel to the capital for a meeting.

Meanwhile, Bishop Stephen's attendants had already received news of the bishop's death.

Unexpectedly, the attendant did not take away Bishop Stephen's wealth. Instead, he sat on the sofa in Bishop Stephen's mansion, gazing in the direction of the Elf Kingdom, lost in thought.

A pillar of light once appeared there. A "pillar of light" as described in a language.

"It seems my compatriots underground are about to give out—the Bayerzens, a formidable adversary, a bunch of madmen who would rather die than let their enemies die with them... They are about to rise again, and I need to find a better opportunity to complete my infiltration of the current Roman Empire."

As the attendant muttered, his form began to change. If he had initially appeared to be a well-dressed gentleman, this time his clothes gradually fell away, revealing the twisted, purple organs that were moving beneath his translucent skin.

His face was no longer handsome. He had a thin, triangular face, a long, flexible tongue like a viper's forked tongue, and eyes with four pupils that emitted a faint purple light.

A pair of bat-like wings unfurled from his back, his feet transformed into robust goat hooves, his right hand became a spear capable of firing flesh javelins, and his left hand became a composite limb serving as both a shield and a greatsword. On his chest, the great rift brand representing the demonic calamity was emitting a faint purple light.

"Where to go next? The elves are definitely out of the question... The Great Khan's territory? No, too far and too barbaric, and that Great Khan is too resolute for me to influence... So where should I go to [assimilate] someone of high status to complete our invasion ten years from now?"

The demon flapped its wings and soared into the sky. Protected by its translucent skin, its body gradually became transparent, and by the time it flew out of the window, it was almost invisible.

The demon finally set its sights on the capital of the Roman Empire. If all went well, it should be able to find a high-ranking official there who could be corrupted and assimilated into a demon...

That little empress is a good candidate... but she's just a puppet after all, so even if she were assimilated, it wouldn't make much difference.

As expected, we still need to find that prince.

With this thought in mind, the demon ascended into the sky and flew towards the capital of the Roman Empire from the clouds.

Meanwhile, in the capital of the Roman Empire, Prince Gassen, whom the devil coveted, was holding a round table meeting in the absence of the cult leader Peter.

All the representatives at the meeting wore solemn expressions. Whether it was Prince Garsen himself, General Dreschka, or the representatives of the nobles and landowners—everyone was looking down at the report coming from the parish. They were all scanning the words "[The former regent led the elven and demonic allied forces to capture the demon city]" in the report, and they also kept their eyes fixed on the parish's losses.

That man... he really dared to do that?!

After the demons stormed into the demon city, they carried out a two-hour massacre, killing almost all the Romans.

Furthermore, the former regent, through his knowledge of Roman city defenses, led the allied forces to breach two important towns and seven villages within the parish. Wherever they went, not only was nothing left standing, but blood stained the entire land and its bricks...

He even had the elves "contaminate" the destroyed city! Now it's teeming with living golems. Forget about clearing the ruins and rescuing survivors; the parish's current army, without the assistance of priests, can't even break through the stone giants' blockade and rush into the city ruins...

Let the elves tread upon human lands, let the demons slaughter the humans of the Roman Empire, let human blood stain the human soil, let the cries of humanity echo through the skies of the human empire...

Does he have not a single ounce of respect for the land his predecessor fought for? Does he no longer have a single ounce of love for the people of the Roman Empire?

Everyone wore a bitter expression, but what was most bitter was the [rumors] that had begun to appear within the Roman Empire.

It's unclear when exactly, but voices began to emerge from the border regions of the Roman Empire, criticizing the current nobles and bureaucrats while loudly praising His Majesty the Regent for having such a miserable reign.

In those rumors, those who spoke out used more eloquent language than lawyers to demonstrate how wonderful life was in the Roman Empire under the Regent's leadership.

For example, when His Majesty the Regent was still alive, at least people had free medical care when they were sick, instead of having to spend a lot of money to bribe noblemen, and the illness might not even be cured.

For example, when His Majesty the Regent was still alive, at least the farmers had drought insurance, and His Majesty the Regent would prepare magical channels for the farmers to combat drought, so that the farmers could still farm no matter how bad things got.

For example, while His Majesty the Regent was still alive, although those steam-powered factories took away many jobs from artisans, at least everyone could buy inexpensive daily necessities...

For example,

For example,

For example—

"Even we can't come up with such a perfect official statement?! He must be launching a propaganda offensive against us from the shadows!"

Prince Garsen's face contorted, and he slammed his fist heavily onto the conference table.

boom!

The punch made the round table tremble slightly. It felt as if the punch had struck the hearts of all the attendees.

After all, this sudden rumor, especially one originating from the border region, was incredibly unexpected. Moreover, even they themselves had to admit that the wording was almost too perfect, as if meticulously planned to plunge the Roman Empire into deeper chaos...

Indeed, it was true. The rumors spread much faster than Prince Garsen had imagined—one week they were on the western ranches, and the next week the Regent's achievements were being told throughout the refugee villages in the central district.

Moreover, even in towns with relatively abundant supplies and the capital, people were whispering among themselves, with some even comparing Garsen's own reputation with the Regent's achievements.

All signs indicate that someone within the Empire is deliberately spreading rumors to threaten their rule. This is something Garsen absolutely cannot tolerate... but who is it? Who is it?!

He scrutinized all the attendees. General Dreschuka and the Regent were at odds, and Bishop Peter of the diocese had been crippled by the Regent. So, what remained were only the nobles and landowners?

There's no way the capital could possibly have anyone disloyal besides the young empress and the chief justice! So... are you nobles and landowners abroad planning to betray the Roman Empire, planning to betray me?!

Prince Garsen gritted his teeth, his anger towards the nobles and landowners evident on his face; even the Regent managed his expression better than he did.

Under his angry glare, the nobles and landowners, who were already resentful because of the previous exchange of benefits, had no choice but to admit their dereliction of duty, and the seeds of resentment were sown again in their hearts.

At this point, the Round Table Conference was no longer a place to discuss how the Roman Empire should develop and overcome the crisis. Under the watchful eye of General Dreschuk, and with Pope Peter absent, the conference had degenerated into a blame-shifting session between nobles and landowners.

Both sides were arguing about who started the rumors first—the nobles said they could not allow rumors that threatened their noble status to spread, and the landowners said they could not allow their serfs to become loyal servants of the enemy.

Both sides were exchanging blows, and it seemed neither could convince the other—

A servant quietly opened the conference room door and entered. After whispering a few words in Prince Garsen's ear, the already agitated prince instinctively let out a gasp of surprise:

"What?! You're saying... the Western rancher and the Eastern silver mine manager invited the Night Witch to a party?"

Why attend a party at a time like this?

For some reason, Prince Garsen suddenly felt a chill run down his spine. But then he thought that the western ranchers and the eastern silver mines had no way to survive independently of the Roman Empire, and the two places were only connected by a portal network in a major city, so even if there was a rebellion, it could be easily suppressed.

Prince Garsen relaxed. He felt he still had a chance to control the situation...

To this end, Prince Garsen made a suggestion: Why don't we sign a treaty with the Kingdom of Alessar in the south, so that they can give us more fish, and in return we will grant them an independent area to build a port, reduce tariffs, and develop together?

These words were spoken.

The meeting fell silent for a moment.

...........

Meanwhile, in the grand hall of a noble salon in the royal capital.

The Night Witch was invited to a salon gathering led by the [Return to Cash] Party.

There were no delicious snacks or refreshing drinks at the party; instead, there was only a group of burly aristocrats and the thick smoke of cigars.

The Night Witch subconsciously cast a spell to block the smoke, and then she heard the Eastern Silver Mine Manager say that recently, for some reason, people in the border region have been spontaneously reminiscing about the Regent's achievements. Although no one knows what's going on, it's clear that opportunity is on their side.

"By May next year... or at the latest June next year, we should have gathered enough provisions and funds for the uprising. We have already reduced our food and mineral supplies to the central region, and barring any unforeseen circumstances, the Ares, who have been in contact with us, intend to provide us with further assistance..."

"Alessa?"

"A small country in the Southern Islands. All they have of value is a catch of fish. They can't provide us with any military support, but they have enough food supplies—and after all, they're just a small country."

"But as far as I know, you do not have any coastal ports."

Priscilla astutely pointed out the shortcomings of the Restoration Party—although the noble landowners united to occupy numerous key regions in the Roman Empire, and even two crucial fortresses facing the western wastelands, ultimately, the empire's fragmented factions lacked the resources of the coastal areas.

They didn't even have a fishing village, let alone coastal ports or towns—how could they possibly make contact with the Alese?

No...why would the Alese offer to fund you under these circumstances? Are you sure...there's no problem with that?