In the dark.
Faint artificial lights flickered in the dark alleys.
The night wind that was getting colder by the day blew through the buildings, carrying the rancid smell of the sewers through the streets and alleys. The ancient buildings stood in the dead and cold night. Starlight shone down from the eternal sky, sprinkling on the roofs, spires, and walls, revealing the hazy silhouettes of these dark objects in the night. From time to time, shadows flashed through the gaps between the silhouettes.
The silhouettes that flashed by under the starlight carried a nervous and determined air. They took slightly panicked steps in the dark, passing a message that needed to be whispered to their neighbors, relatives, and friends. "Wait for the first bell of dawn."
Broom the cobbler, whose head was wrapped in a scarf, walked on the dark street. The night wind in the early hours of the morning seemed to carry malice. He could not help but tremble slightly. He did not know whether it was because of fear, excitement, or just the simple cold. But he felt as if there was a fire burning in his chest. With this fire, he dared to leave the house and walk on the street.
The curfew order issued by the priests in the Church District was long gone, and the patrolling soldiers and knights of the Holy See were nowhere to be seen. The outer city had been out of control for several days, and an undercurrent that was originally hidden in the darkness had gradually surged up these days. Now, it was finally time for it to destroy everything.
A new shadow appeared on the dark street. The cobbler's footsteps were a little hesitant, but he quickly recognized the figure as the cobbler he knew. The two of them quickly approached each other. They looked at each other's faces in the dark and whispered, "Waiting for the bell?" "Waiting for the bell."
A flickering light moved from the corner of the street not far away. The cobbler and the cobbler immediately looked in the direction of the light. They saw a man with a torch. A blacksmith, famous for his boldness, walked towards them. Behind the blacksmith were a woman with an oil lamp, a farmer with a pitchfork, and an apprentice with a cudgel.
The blacksmith handed the torch in his hand to the leatherman. "Don't be so secretive. Leaving the door is already a death sentence."
More and more people walked out of their homes. Some were craftsmen, some were farmers, and some were apprentices. These skinny people looked like they had just walked out of hell. However, flames danced in their eye sockets. They gathered in the middle of the streets. More and more torches and oil lamps gradually lit up the streets as the crowd gathered. In the flickering flames, there were pairs of eyes that were still chaotic but unusually firm.
"Wait until the bell strikes." "Remember, the one with the white bandages on his arm is a friend." "What about the friends outside the city?" "They have already arrived..."
No one could tell from where the news first started to spread, and no one could tell who was behind everything that happened tonight, but everyone knew that they had already eaten the last bit of food at home and gathered their last bit of strength. They might not survive tonight, but as long as the sun rose tomorrow, everyone would be free.
Broom, the leatherman, held a torch and looked at the west of the city. On the dark city wall, a little flame was flickering.
The soldier guarding the city gate held an oil lamp and looked nervously at the situation below the city wall. Beside him were two other soldiers who were as nervous as him. In front of him was a black mass of people in the vast wilderness outside the city, and there were countless flickering flames in the crowd.
These people from the nearby villages, towns, and even the neighboring territories gathered in the wilderness. The commotion from them was getting louder and louder. Behind this group, more people were coming along the gravel road. The light of the torches stretched across the wilderness like a giant burning snake, gradually trapping the city of the Church that had stood for hundreds of years.
In the wilderness, the most eye-catching people were those who stood at the front of the crowd. They wore heavy white armor and carried huge hammers on their shoulders. Their bodies were surrounded by light.
Those were the White Knight from Cecil.
At this moment, they did not represent the armed forces of Cecil, but the new order of the Holy Light.
"Open … open the city gate?" The soldier asked the veteran next to him, trembling. He touched the white cloth tied to his arm, his voice full of fear. "Will they also …"
The veteran was also immersed in fear, but he knew that there was no other choice. As early as the priests had completely closed the gate of the Church District, these soldiers who were stranded in the outer city and on the city wall had been completely abandoned. After losing the support of the Church, the soldiers who still had brains took the initiative to put down their weapons and became accomplices of this chaos — or rather, allies of this righteous act.
"Open the city gate," the veteran said. "Let Cecil's people in, and the blockade of this city will be over."
The capstan covered with iron sheets began to turn, and the chain drove the bearings to creak. The heavy gate of Louen City finally opened again after being closed for dozens of days. The crowd gathered in the wilderness looked at the gradually opening gate, and then countless pairs of eyes fell on the front of the army.
The White Knight in heavy armor took the lead and stepped forward. These people covered in steel were like lighthouses in the night, giving people endless courage. The huge army moved and followed behind the White Knight to Louen City.
The soldiers who opened the gate hid in the shadows, trembling. They watched the heavily-armored Knight silently lead the crowd and watched the huge and chaotic army pass through the gate. They saw almost any profession they had ever seen in their lives — farmers, blacksmiths, cobblers, stonemasons, poor people in rags, well-dressed merchants, some carrying only pitchforks and sticks, and some carrying long swords and spears. Some of them were ordinary people, and some looked like mercenaries who had just walked out of the battlefield.
The soldier even had the illusion that all the people in the Southern Territory were gathered here.
…
Half an hour before the first ray of sunlight rose, a large number of heavy and chaotic footsteps came from the street paved with gravel and a few slates. The footsteps even made the whole ground tremble slightly. With these movements, the light of numerous torches emerged from all directions, and strange but friendly faces appeared in the swaying flames.
Warriors in strange white heavy armor, as if cast in light, came out of the crowd. These warriors came to the front of the uneasy citizens of Louen. A low and friendly voice came from under the helmet decorated with wings and inscribed with scriptures, "We are the White Knight under the Grand Patriarch. We are here to help the people of the Holy Light."
As described in the news that had been circulating in the city since a few days ago, the allies of the Holy Light had appeared in the darkness. The powerful White Knight led the people of the Holy Light from all directions to rescue the Holy City that was sinking in the darkness.
The two teams quickly converged. Under the leadership of some guides, the huge team began to move in the direction of the cathedral.
There were dozens of White Knight surrounded by the Holy Light. They were only a small part of the whole crowd, but they walked at the forefront like an arrow. Between these Knights, a hazy shadow approached the leader of the Knight Regiment without attracting anyone's attention.
Amber emerged from the shadow. She looked up at the burly White Knight and said, "I didn't expect so many people to gather here …"
The burly White Knight was Leit. He did not wear a helmet. His scarred face was full of determination. He looked down slightly at the petite half-elf and said, "They come from the entire Louen region and the nearby Calore City. The team has gathered in the wilderness for several days. This is all thanks to you. Without you, people would not have seen the truth of the decadence of the Holy Light Church, and they would not have gathered here with righteous indignation."
"I accept the compliment," Amber said proudly. Then there was a hint of curiosity in her voice. "But I didn't expect you to come in person. As the Grand Patriarch of the New Church, you didn't stay behind … Old Zong … Did the Duke send you here?"
"I made the decision myself," Leit said faintly. Then he paused for two seconds, and his tone was more serious than usual. "This is our mission."
Amber blinked and listened to Wright's solemn voice as it continued to ring out in the night.
"Cecil has taken root in the Gloom Mountains, which makes it face the threat of the wasteland at all times. Every time Cecil is attacked by the mutants, the Seigneur is always on the defensive line. I learned one thing from him. A decision of a leader may cost the lives of hundreds and thousands of people. Sometimes the decision is necessary, and sometimes the people's sacrifice is voluntary. But the leader can never accept these sacrifices with a clear conscience. He must stand with those who have sacrificed and be ready to bleed together at any time.
"This is a war of the Holy Light. For the reform of the Holy Light, for the freedom of faith, unarmed ordinary people have to challenge the Extraordinary who are far more powerful than them. This revolution will inevitably result in bloodshed. This bloodshed is necessary. But as the leader of the New Church, I can't just let them bleed.
"That's why I'm here."
Wright carried the mechanical warhammer wrapped in the Holy Accord ribbon and walked forward with firm steps. Amber, on the other hand, was in a daze. After a few seconds, the half-elf shook his head. "That guy really has a bunch of weirdos around him …"
Ten minutes before dawn, the crowd gathered in the fan-shaped square in front of the church area.
The place, which was once used for heresy trials and burning ceremonies, was now crowded with people. The smell of burning oil filled the square. More and more people were still coming from all directions. But the limited square could not accommodate more people, so those who came from further away could only gather on the nearby streets.
As the crowd grew, as time went by, more and more noise began to come from everywhere. Some foreigners even began to shout angry slogans in the crowd. Some mercenaries waved swords and swords and cursed the cowards in the church. Some merchants waved their canes and scolded the Church of the Holy Light for being unjust. Some people stood on several high platforms at the edge of the square, waving their fists and denouncing the priests in the cathedral as villains, butchers, and man-eating demons. The anger even shocked the people of Louen in the square. They could not imagine why these allies from afar would be so angry at the priests in the cathedral.
Their anger was even greater than theirs.
The terrible noise in the square spread to the Church District. The priests who had shut themselves in the inner city walls and pretended to be deaf and mute for many days could no longer sit still. They climbed to the walls and towers of the inner city in astonishment, wanting to see what was going on outside. Then, their astonishment turned into panic.
People.
There were people everywhere in the square.
That was a group of people that could strike fear into the hearts of priests and knights who possessed supernatural powers.
At the same time, in front of a key node of the divine circle in the small church area of the inner city, Savin Terry and a priest in a black robe with tattoos on his head were quietly confronting each other.
Savin Terry looked at his compatriot of the church in front of him and sighed. "Back down, Alcott. There is no other way."
However, the black-robed monk just stood still in front of the divine circle. After a long time, he broke the silence. "The Knight Regiment and other monks will soon notice the abnormality in the small church area …"
Savin Terry could not help but take a step forward and said in an agitated tone, "They can resist here for a while, but can they resist here for a lifetime?"
The black-robed priest looked into Savin Terry's eyes and said calmly, "… But my mission is to protect the small church area — unless death terminates my mission."
Savin looked at the calm expression of the clergyman in front of him and suddenly read the real message from him.
He frowned and said in a sorrowful voice, "Alcott, I know that during the heresy trial … Although you hid it well, you were also one of those whose faith was shaken. Don't insist anymore. I know you. You know what the church has done over the years, and you also know that they have become worse in the past year … "
"I'm a disciplinary friar. Maintaining the order of the church is my everything. This is the oath I made before the Holy Light," the black-robed friar calmly interrupted Savin Terry. "Do you still remember the oath you made before the Holy Light?"
Savin Terry responded to the monk with a ten-second silence and a firm reply, "… Of course I remember. I will never forget it."
"That's good." The monk heaved a sigh of relief and looked relaxed. "Priest, do what you have to do."
Savin Terry was a little flustered. He walked towards the black-robed priest in front of him, but he seemed to have forgotten what he had to do.
"The bell is about to ring."
The black-robed priest's words suddenly woke him up.
He looked at the black-robed priest in front of him in astonishment and heard the priest saying quietly,
"… I'm a monk of the discipline. I know all the secrets of these churches. This is my job … Priest, do what you should do. That fragile door won't be able to stop the angry crowd. If the divine spell formation is still active after the bell is rung, many people will die."
Savin Terry felt his blood gradually solidifying, and a cold feeling spread from his heart to his limbs. He heard the first bell ring in the distance and heard the last request of a devout.
"Kill me and save the Holy Light."
A warm feeling spread from his fingers. Savin Terry felt that his blood that was gradually coagulating had regained its temperature. He saw that he was holding a dagger in his hand, and the tip of the dagger had sunk into the disciplinary friar's chest.
The monk had fallen. The node of the divine circle of the chapel lay quietly on the platform behind him. The sacred runes were glowing faintly.
Savin Terry rushed to the node while the black-robed monk fell to the ground. As the divine circle stopped operating, Savin Terry heard the bell ring from afar become clearer and louder, and he heard the sound of the door of the chapel collapsing.
He exhaled, and in his last breath, he whispered softly,
"Lord …"
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
