Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
The next morning, the Pope awoke to devastating news. The Church’s army, which started out twelve million strong, had now been reduced to one million men just two days after the war started.
In reality, the reported number of casualties was overstated. After the failed siege on Arfin City, a million soldiers were able to flee back to the camp in Shamshire. Not every one that failed to make it back had perished on the battlefield; some soldiers had vanished amidst the chaos.
In this world, the media was fond of sensational headlines, as well. In a war where the Voidwalkers clearly have the upper hand, “The Voidwalkers’ commits genocide in retaliation” was the headline that conservative-like media went with. As a result of this, rumors that the Voidwalkers were invincible began to spread.
The Archmage did not care for the newfound positive public opinion; instead, he was displeased by the outcome of the previous day’s battle. He put down a report and growled. “These barbarians suck! With how excited they were, one would think that they would easily hunt down their targets, but no; they end up letting too many enemies slip through their grasp! Back in the good old days, the Empire did not have cavalry troops, yet my men would not have let anyone survive!”
“To be fair, they are a large group of ordinary humans on horseback; they don’t possess any superhuman powers to fight the Church’s most exceptional experts, so all they could do was to retreat,” said the Thane Walker. “Remember, I told you to have Attie lead those barbarians! You didn’t listen.”
“You say that as though I would let a darling student of mine go out there and put herself in harm’s way,” the Archmage replied, shaking his head. “I’m more disappointed in the Hitman Walker and the Caveman Walker: despite all the stunts they pulled off yesterday, they are hopeless on horseback. Yet, they dare to call themselves masters of all physical activities!”
“Excuuuuuse me, Princess! No self-respecting hitman should need to ride a horse!” The Hitman Walker countered. “To suggest that I waste my time to learn that is the same as spitting on my art!”
“Look, pal; it’s not that I can’t ride a horse. I can if I really want to. The problem is the horses; they’re scrawny and feeble, man. They can’t handle me. Not the other way around,” the Caveman Walker said.
“Enough! You two are embarrassing me,” the Archmage spoke loudly. “We mustn’t get cocky because of our current victory. After all, this is only a warm-up for what lies ahead. How’s everyone’s preparation coming along?”
“If the Angels are only as strong as Sir Hope said they are, then there’s a high chance that we will survive the three days without any problems, and that’s only if we don’t get more angels than we can handle,” said the Engineer Walker. “I’m pleased to inform you that all my marionettes have been upgraded for aerial combat. Sir Blacksmith Walker is quickly installing proximity fuzes1 on our machines.”
“Oh? We were able to make those?” The Thane Walker asked in surprise. As an expert in warfare, the Thane Walker was a big fan of Earth’s weapon science and warfare. He had devoted a lot of time to studying both. Although he did not know as much as the Blacksmith Walker in this field, he certainly knew what proximity fuzes were, and why the Voidwalkers should have been unable to create them.
“Oh, you do know that we’re using magic to emulate the real thing, right? Adding a miniature detection formation by placing an enchanted scroll into our ammunitions and all that. This is the same thing we did for our howitzers’ ammunition,” the Engineer Walker explained. “We could just have a group of sorcerers stand by to enchant our bullets before we fire, but that would be dreadfully inefficient. Besides, if we use scrolls, we will not need as much manpower, and the accuracy and range of our attacks would improve.”
“Now, that’s how a pro-gamer thinks! Please continue your good work,” the Archmage replied, chuckling. Then, he took out his communication slab and contacted the Scholar Walker, and the moment she accepted the connection, he asked, “How’re things on your end?”
“Would a bit of patience every now and then hurt? Even if that is beyond you, shouldn’t a casual observation of my assiduity to be enough to answer your question.” The exasperation in the Scholar Walker’s tone was evident even through the communication spell. “Must I remind you that while you have so graciously encumbered me alone with the construction of our defense system, I still bear the responsibility of supervising Noirciel’s welfare and her arduous road to recovery? Mayhap you could swap your incessant demands with supplying more manpower — at least that would hasten the process and relieve my poor, fatigued students! On that note, what oh-so-grave subject is currently drawing your effort away from assisting us, do tell? Should I be a believer just this once, so that I may pray you’re not squandering your time gazing at your oh-so-precious cards?”
“H-how scandalous! Are you suggesting that I don’t know my priorities? I’ll have you know that I’m currently hosting a momentous war council pertaining to our next action — including strategies and deployments of our specialized units. Anon from that, I have an important audience with the nobles!” The Archmage said in defense, as though he had not engaged in his trivial hobbies. “Oh, come on. I believe in you, Scholar Walker. I’ll definitely come around and help a bit if I’m free.”
The Thane Walker said quietly after the communication was ended, “I thought Vidomina was taking care of the nobles.”
The Archmage coughed. “Well, I’m worried that they might overwhelm her a bit. I’m her back up if it gets tough,” he replied matter-of-factly. “Anyway, how about that bear? Has it made its decision yet?”
“It declined to join our battle, that’s for sure. Says it can’t overcome its inborn respect and fear toward Angels,” the Thane Walker replied. “We still earn Mr. Bear’s help, though. It says it’s happy to help Aya retrain and persuade those dragons, so I expect our new dragon knights to be functional enough on supply guard duties during the incoming battles.”
Ever since Aya had expelled every dragon knight who refused to reaffirm their allegiance to Baiyi, a lot of the dragons had lost their riders, causing a severe drop in the Voidwalkers’ overall fighting powers. Not one to let any resources go to waste, the Walkers had devised a workaround solution: the Engineer had installed several reliable equipment on the dragons, such as safety harnesses, to ease those without years of training to be able to somewhat ride them. Then, the Thane scouted the more exceptional individuals from the noble-hired mercenaries to be trained as temporary dragon knights under Aya and Mordred.
It was a daunting task. A dragon knight’s standard training regimen would take about five to eight years of training before riding their dragons into battles since they not only had to be trained in various skills and techniques but also needed time to foster a bond with their mount. Theoretically, it was impossible to speed up a dragon knights’ training.
Fortunately, making the impossible possible was one of the Walkers’ many specialties. The Engineer Walker’s little tools had provided enough scaffolding for a newbie to get a grip with the maneuver quickly enough, while Mr. Bear’s unique druid abilities were brought in to aid Aya in retraining the dragons.
It was the most Mr. Bear could do. Since the beginning, it had explicitly expressed its reluctance to participate in the war — a staunch pacifist at heart, Mr. Bear would not help anyone in taking away others’ lives. The Archmage only managed to convince it through the persuasion technique of poking the bear in its beady eyes.
Not only that, he enlisted help from Anna and Santa, two serial teddy-bear-eyes-pokers, to “persuade” Mr. Bear as well. Strangely, the almighty druid was reduced to an animated teddy bear when these two little girls were involved.
With the druid’s help, the new riders were beginning to develop decent chemistry between themselves as their draconic mounts. By the looks of it, these riders should be able to join the war soon.
On the other hand, two hundred Northern warriors supplied by the Northern kingdoms had arrived and were now united with Baldy and his friends. Presently, these Northern warriors were under the Warrior’s intensive tutelage; they even decided to give their specialized training a chuunibyo name, “God-slaying Art”. For what it was worth, these Northern warriors were lapping it up fervently, crying about “showing these gods the might of us Northern lads” as though they were in a trance. They might as well be, as they had been training for two days straight without sleep.
“Uh, please make sure they don’t kill themselves over it? They’re the crème of the Northern crops, right? If anything were to happen to them… let’s just say Hope’s gonna have a huge pain on his neck,” The Thane had told the Warrior.
Frankly, the Thane Walker reasoned that it would be best not to deploy the Northerners. Unlike the more expandable nomadic cavalries, the Northern kingdom’s aid was more of a symbolic gesture. It would be better to have them remained in the academy throughout the war until they received news of the Voidalkers’ victory, and he was sure that the heads who sent these fighters to Da Xue thought the same.
“They made their choice,” the Warrior Walker replied flatly. “The only way one could advance themselves in martial arts is through challenging themselves — breaking out of your limits. They understand that overcoming powerful opponents, such as the angels, will benefit their cultivation immensely. Hence, I respect their decision to not sit this one out.”
Finding no words to counter her, the Thane Walker relented and added the Northerners’ names into the Voidwalkers’ list of combat assets.
While the Voidwalkers worked tirelessly to prepare for the main part of the war, the Church was also busy. The cardinals had just resuscitated the Pope, who had fainted earlier.
When he woke up, the man’s first words were: “By the gods, I wish you people had let me stay unconscious for a while longer.”
News of the Church’s defeat had hit him hard. How they had suffered such a loss was something he still could not explain. When he got the report, his mental faculties broke down temporarily, like a broken computer program. “How did this happen?” He repeated that question over and over till he collapsed.
After the Pope was resuscitated, he remembered that devil’s words. It reminded the Pope how many times that man had said he was not afraid of the Church. He had also said that he had refrained from wiping out the Church because he did not want bloodshed.
The Pope had considered it a bluff, but now, after suffering a series of defeats, his confidence had disappeared. Fighting the Voidwalkers was akin to snow trying to fight the sun; only a ray of sunlight was enough to melt them.
He felt dread and confusion at the reality that the Church, an organization that had been in existence for millennia, had crumbled so quickly in front of the Voidwalkers.
Sensing the Pope’s depression, the High Priest stepped in. “Your Holiness, please! All is not lost yet! Our true power has not yet been unleashed!”
“True power? The Angels. They will be here tomorrow,” the Pope mumbled. “I wonder what they will think of us when they see our sorry state.”
Before the High Priest could say anything, the Pope continued, “I suppose we’ll have nothing worthy to show our immaculate allies…”
He let his remorse linger for a while. Then, as though he had regained his sanity, he commanded, “Inform Sir Aaron that I want a thorough restructuring of the Church’s army. Discharge every unremarkable crusader and cleric, or file them in as guards of honor for the Angels. Their role in this war is finished. After all, to those demons, numbers mean nothing. How’s the ritual in Shamshire?”
“It is ready, just as we planned. The Holy City, Shamshire, and even towns and cities along the route to Arfin are ready. The Angels shall descend upon our world in the most glorious forms, casting light into the darkness of this war over the adulation and awe from God’s most faithful believers!” The High Priest answered.
As he stared at the young priest’s face, a thought slowly formed in the Pope’s head: what if they had drawn all of their efforts in building these rituals into the previous battles instead?
‘Would the outcome of the war change?’
He shook his head and let the thought faded back to whence it came.
