Little Tyrant Doesn’t Want to Meet with a Bad End

Leinster is doomed.

This was the thought that had dominated Bradley Danis’ mind for days now.

At first glance, Bradley looked like an ordinary middle-aged man with his scrawny stature and grayish hair, but beneath his humble appearance lay the lofty leader and bishop of the Saints Convocation Leinster Branch.

It had been a week since the Salvation Brotherhood had started its uprising, and Bradley’s morale had been on a nosedive since then.

Ever since the breakout of war with the deviants, Leinster’s elites had been continuously dispatched to the frontline, resulting in a huge reduction in the number of teachers and clergymen in the city. At the same time, the number of students coming into Leinster had been falling sharply as well.

Its defenses were currently at an all-time low.

There was nothing in the world that was easier to manipulate than a frightened populace. Chaos provided the perfect fodder for evil cults to entice the weak-hearted so as to expand their organization.

Thanks to the conducive environment, the evil cults were able to grow rapidly in the shadows over the past ten years.

To be fair, it was not that the leaders of humankind hadn’t noticed the activities of the evil cults, but they chose to ignore it. They simply didn’t have the spare attention and manpower to deal with the evil cults when the frontlines of humankind’s borders were already on the brink of collapse.

This was the era of prosperity for the evil cults, but someone suddenly flipped the table on them.

The Salvation Brotherhood was an old organization tracing back to the Second Epoch. It had been operating in the Country of Scholars for centuries now though its size and influence paled in comparison to the massive Saints Convocation, but the past ten years of chaos had brought about its swift growth.

There were signs that the Salvation Brotherhood was starting to get out of control, such as the numerous conflicts it had with Saints Convocation in recent years. Nevertheless, Bradley didn’t think that they would actually go to the extent of starting an uprising!

This had indubitably crossed the line.

The leaders of humankind were only turning a blind eye to them because they knew that the evil cults wouldn’t really stage a coup d’état at a time like this. Everyone implicitly understood that it would be the end of them all once the deviants were to breach their defenses, so no one was dumb enough to sabotage each other at a time like this.

In fact, it was more beneficial for the evil cults to lie low and wait for their enemies to whittle down one another at this juncture.

The Saints Convocation believed in guiding human civilization to its end so as to return to the embrace of the Mother Goddess. However, the end they sought was at the hands of the Mother Goddess’ envoys, not those filthy deviants.

When the Salvation Brotherhood first started its attack on Leinster, many powers including Leinster’s garrison troops and the Saints Convocation formed an implicit alliance to bring them down, but the results were completely unexpected.

The Salvation Brotherhood actually won.

They summoned an army of humanoid monsters dressed in black armor and black robes with some sort of bizarre magic tool. These monsters couldn’t move during the day, but as soon as night descended, they would swiftly flood the streets. Their enigmatic murmurs wielded the power to mess up one’s mind, inducing splitting headaches. There were even transcendents who had lost their minds to it!

The terrifying monsters were too much for them to deal with, so the surviving garrison troops swiftly retreated into the Saint Freya Academy and held the fort together with Vice Principal Astrid and the remaining students.

On the other hand, Bradley and the others weren’t so lucky as to have a powerful fortress to fall back on. With the garrison troops beyond reach for the time being, the Salvation Brotherhood naturally turned their sights to their second greatest enemy—the Saints Convocation.

The Saints Convocation could only converge their forces into the eastern part of the city and hole themselves up in the Worcester Castle, but its defensive means paled far in comparison to the fortress known as the Saint Freya Academy. At this rate, it was only a matter of time before they faced complete defeat.

And just earlier that night, he received yet another secret report that left him utterly despaired.

Their Holy Envoy had been intercepted and killed.

The death of the Holy Envoy meant that they had lost their final trump card.

There was still a long time before the reinforcements sent from the eastern border arrived to curb the Salvation Brotherhood. It might be possible for the Saint Freya Academy to hold its ground till then, but the Saints Convocation definitely wouldn’t be able to last that long.

Escape wasn’t an option for them either. If they failed their mission here, the top brass would surely end their lives.

The only choices here were to be killed by those night monsters or to be purged by the top brass. It was such a despairing situation that Bradley could only drown his sorrows in liquor.

Yet another hundred-year-old red wine was downed within minutes.

Slightly intoxicated, he walked to the windowsill to look out at the dimly lit streets outside the castle. It was completely dark, but he felt as if he could see terrifying monsters crawling out from the shadows.

Tok tok!

“Who is it? Didn’t I say not to disturb me?”

Abrupt knocks on his door snapped Bradley out of his daze, and he bellowed at the door impatiently. To his surprise, he received an excited report from the disciple outside.

“Lord Bishop, the Holy Envoy has arrived!”

…

Holy Envoy? What dogshit envoy do we have here?

Bradley thought as he rushed over to the eastern city gate together with the other disciples of the Saints Convocation and a huge army of half-human half-scorpion puppets.

The news that the Holy Envoy had arrived didn’t bring him any relief; if anything, he only felt appalled. The others were only able to remain excited about the arrival of the ‘Holy Envoy’ because they were still oblivious to the truth, but he knew better.

Holy Envoy? He has already been slaughtered by those bastards of the Salvation Brotherhood! The one who is coming here must be their spy!

From a distance away, Bradley could spot a foreign black-haired man speaking to the other believers beneath the city gate. A sharp glint flickered across his eyes. With a grand wave of his hands, he shouted out an order.

“Capture him! He’s a fake!”

Those words alarmed the disciples standing around Roel, and they quickly backed away fearfully. At the same time, two white-robed disciples rushed forth with their human-scorpion puppets and surrounded Roel.

This is bad. That guy over there should be Bradley. It looks like he has either already received information of the Holy Envoy’s demise or that he is acquainted with the Holy Envoy, Roel thought with a frown.

He had read the letter thoroughly and deduced that Bradley and the Holy Envoy weren’t acquainted with one another—in fact, Bradley didn’t even seem to know the Holy Envoy’s name—and that was the key reason why he dared to impersonate the Holy Envoy.

But it was clear that his plan wasn’t working here.

In front of the eastern city gate, the disciples of the Saints Convocation began drawing their weapons and channeling their mana, ready to move against him.

Despite the tense atmosphere, Roel didn’t appear panicked in the least. He calmly gazed at Bradley with his golden eyes as he spoke with a cold and authoritative voice.

“Bishop Bradley, what are you playing at? Is this the kind of attitude you ought to be taking toward a Holy Envoy?”

“Holy Envoy? You must really take me for a fool! I have met Lord Pronte before, and you aren’t him!” shouted Bradley as he glared at Roel viciously.

It was indeed highly unlikely for a regional bishop like him to be acquainted with the Holy Envoy, who was under the direct command of the Saints Convocation’s executives, and the other party’s audacious impersonation made it clear that he was exploiting this fact.

Unfortunately for that fool, he was acquainted with Holy Envoy Pronte because the latter happened to be born in Leinster. In fact, he had been a member in the Saints Convocation Leinster Branch prior to his dispatch to the headquarters as the new Holy Envoy.

This unfortunate coincidence spelled the failure of Roel’s plan, but of course, there was no way he would make such a risky move without countermeasures. In fact, he had considered such a possibility beforehand and was prepared for it.

Roel looked into the night sky musingly for a moment before the corners of his lips curled in disdain.

“Pronte? Oh, you must be referring to that trash who died on his way here. When did I tell you that I am Pronte?”

“H-huh?”

“I am the Holy Envoy under the direct command of the Convocation’s executives. Bishop Bradley, watch your tongue when you address me.”

Roel suddenly raised his voice and lambasted Bradley.

His confident demeanor bewildered Bradley. An aide rushed forward and informed him that the black-haired man had already identified himself as Roel. This raised some ideas in his mind.

Could it be that the executives have noticed the situation here and sent someone over from the headquarters even before I called for aid?

No, that’s impossible. The uprising occurred not too long ago, so how could the executives react that quickly?

“Holy Envoy Roel? Pardon my ignorance, but I’ve never heard of you before,” sneered Bradley as he eyed Roel coldly. “Since you are claiming to be a Holy Envoy, surely you can tell me the name of the executive who sent you over?”

The surroundings plunged into silence, and Roel’s eyes narrowed sharply.

Murderous intent was flurried beneath the city gates. It seemed like a fight was about to break out.