Chapter 690: Faith Falling

Just as Lyra said in her speech, her appearance this time was not to provoke a new war, but to seek that faint, almost illusory possibility of peace through dialogue and admonition.

The Church Knights were not like the private troops under the kingdom’s nobles, nor like the mercenaries temporarily hired and thrown onto the battlefield. These people had gathered here for the sake of a single faith, and in essence they had no irreconcilable conflict of interest with the Empire, of course, that premise had to be built upon a certain religious understanding: that the revised new scripture pushed by Hebrew would not be acknowledged by the masses, and that the faithless were ordinary people rather than heretics.

In that case, the Pope’s pretext for launching a holy war would develop an irreparable flaw. The Lord was a lofty and merciful supreme existence; He would not harbor resentment and met out punishment simply because someone did not believe. Those bottom-dwelling commoners within the Empire were not evildoers, only compatriots who shared similar forms and the same body warmth. Naturally, the Church Knights will no longer fight for false dogma.

Her gaze swept across the crowd on the wall. Lyra’s eyes paused on the Saintess of Light in sacred attire, and the red-haired knight-commander at her side. Her tone was gentle.

"That is all I have to say. I hope all of you will think carefully, and not be blinded by lies, step by step straying from holy light and glory."

"And also... There are believers of the Church of Light within Coldwind City as well. They are actively cooperating with us in treating the wounded, and in distributing relief grain."

"After our army entered Coldwind City, we did not violate the people in the slightest. The churches of the Light faith were not smashed or looted in any way. Even today, the sacred statue of the omniscient, omnipotent Lord cast into the mortal realm still stands in the great cathedral of Coldwind City."

Her warm, melodious voice drifted high in the sky. Lyra stood suspended in midair, cherry-pink hair spilling to her waist and fitting close to her light-wings. The silver-white engraved knight boots swayed faintly with her movements.

"As someone who bathes in the same holy light, I sincerely hope that we won’t be enemies in the future."

When she finished, the radiation around Lyra surged. Her six translucent wings fluttered, raising layered waves of light that rushed toward the Holy Radiant City like a tsunami flood.

The soldiers, who had been holding a wary stance to begin with, immediately focused. Instinctively thinking it was a destructive light spell, they began channeling mental power into their arrays.

Only Kales and Monica stood atop the wall without moving, calmly watching the light-waves wash over the entire holy city and sink into the bricks and tiles.

A powerful mage could sense the arrangement of elemental motes in the air, and could also directly observe the external manifestations of these motes, thus inferring what spell the other party was casting.

In most battles, when strong fights strong, there was no need to hear incantations. They only had to watch the changes in the elemental moves within their field of view to guess what the opponent intended to do. The more experienced could even directly break down the corresponding release process and interrupt the cast.

Obviously, the light magic Lyra released was not meant to create more casualties. The rippling light displays only the gentle, warm side of this element, without the scorching, piercing sharpness of raging fire.

Feeling their physical exhaustion ease slightly under that light, many Church Knights supporting the city were started. When they raised their heads again, the pink silhouette radiating warmth and light had already disappeared from the sky, leaving only a denser cluster of light-element motes than elsewhere.

Coldwind howled. The blazing light element was wrapped up by the wind element, becoming more scattered.

...................

"Saintess..."

Lyra left. After the brief period of vigilance passed, within the Holy Radiant City, Kales and Monica sat facing each other. The man sat with his back straight, his gaze never lingers on the woman’s alluring figure. He weighed his words before speaking.

"What Lyra Beckett said... seems to have had a rather bad influence on the knights."

Some issues that had long piled up inside the Church Knight order, issues that could be glossed over with blind faith, had been cleverly drawn out by her words, becoming impossible to ignore.

Lyra had not been wrong about some things. The predicament currently facing the Church of Light, and even the entire Kingdom of Velys, was in fact the result of decisions made by those above.

Although Kales was one of the four great knight-commanders and held high authority, he still hadn’t come into contact with the most confidential portion of the Church’s information. Faced with Hebrew’s orders, he could only accept them passively.

As for what he truly thought, no one knew.

Hearing Kales’s comments, Monica sat upright with dignified composure, hands clasped together, her voice soft.

"Commander Kales means... that they have begun to waver in the faith itself?"

Not expecting Monica to be so blunt the moment she spoke, Kales frowned, his tone low.

"It should... not be that serious. But I think some of them are beginning to doubt."

Doubt the Pope’s interpretation of the scripture, doubt the purpose of this expedition, doubt whether they were walking the right road.

When it came to stirring emotions, Lyra Beckett was, after all, a commander of an enemy state, and their most troublesome enemy of the past. No matter how good her speech was, it would be hard to make everyone in Velys empathize. Reality was not a novel or an anime: without similar culture, without shared history, it was difficult for people to resonate with one another. Much less could someone’s few words easily overturn years of cognition and belief.

That requires an extremely long process. Three feet of ice does not form in a single day.

Still, it was absolutely impossible to say it had no effect. On the contrary, Lyra’s words greatly accelerated the Church Knights’ doubts about their own legitimacy. Just as Kales had anticipated, once the speech ended, many knights began thinking about things they had already considered before coming, then extended those thoughts further.

Thousands of years ago, someone proved that even an emperor could bleed. From then on, the Lorraine Empire began to decline from strength, eventually splitting into two nations.

If the Pope could be wrong, if he could walk a path that ran counter to faith, then it would be almost a devastating blow to the Church of Light.

Their guide, their beacon of faith, the Lord’s attender in the secular world, everything will collapse in an instant.

And Lyra had already planted that seed. She didn’t even use a single lie to build momentum for herself. Kales’s so-called "heretical" rebellious remarks were merely a complete retelling of what the Pope had done before.

"Doubt what?" On the level of speech, Monica gave Kales little room to maneuver. Her beautiful eyes quietly fixed on the commander not far away as she continued. "The Lord... or the Lord’s attendee?"

The answer mattered immensely. The former meant impure faith; the latter they questioned the Pope of Light’s decisions.

Kales fell silent briefly, then spoke.

"It is... His Holiness the Pope."

As his words fell, the room sank into a brief hush. Monica kept her hands interlaced and slowly drew them up to the ribbon at her chest.

"Is that so?"

The woman’s voice was soft and fine. Her deep-brown hair fell down, pressing against the smooth silk robe. Her long, slender, delicate white-stockinged legs crossed elegantly.

"Then Commander Kales... are you among them as well?"

At her words, Kales’s expression shifted slightly, his tone low.

"Saintess... what do you mean by that?"

Another probe?

Monica, like Kales earlier, did not answer at once. She merely narrowed her moist eyes, watching the flat tabletop.

Long ago, when Monica sought potential allies within the Church of Light, she had considered pulling Kales over. But reminded that this commander’s trusted men in the order had been blasted to pieces, more than half of them, by the mana-powered giant cannons developed by Charlotte, she knew it would be hard to get past that emotionally, and could only set the idea aside for the time being.

Even later, when Kales showed a certain confusion and suspicion toward the Pope’s orders, Monica still did not rashly test him, for fear of exposing herself.

The turning point came from the brutal manner in which the fallen knights’ aftermath was handled on the front lines, and from Hebrew’s move to conscript large numbers of able-bodied youths into the Church Knight order.

Also on the front lines, Monica keenly caught Kales’s dissatisfaction. After she left, she sent informants to monitor him for a long time, and further learned that the commander had repeatedly gone to the homes of fallen knights to offer condolences, and that he even distributed his own monthly accumulated stipend to them as compensation. Only then did she indirectly understand his thinking.

In terms of his attitude toward war, Kales, having endured artillery fire, was highly likely to be anti-war. At the very least, Monica could be sure of one thing: he did not want the Church to spread faith in this manner, nor did he want to watch young, vivid lives vanish because of an invasion of another country.

And that meant Monica had a chance to win him over, to make him a member of the new Church of Light.

Sharp high heels clicked against the floor. Having waited in vain for Monica’s reply, Kales remained silent for a long time before speaking on his own.

"Saintess, do you understand His Holiness the Pope’s plan?"

"Why do you ask?"

"If you do, and if the Saintess were to step out personally to explain, perhaps it could ease the knights’ anxious hearts and raise some morale."

Using the banner of righteousness to test her, this Saintess’s exact faith inclination and her present attitude toward the Pope, Monica thought the commander before her was indeed as she remembered: not a rigid man who did everything strictly by the rules, but someone with keen political instincts. Her pink lips parted.

"His Majesty the Pope is burdened with countless affairs. He does not have that much time to communicate with me. It is embarrassing to admit, but my understanding of his thoughts remains only on a shallow surface."

At that, Monica’s tone shifted.

"So sometimes, when facing his orders, I also feel a trace of confusion, unsure how I should interpret them."

"..."

So the Saintess meant... she too harbored a sliver of doubt toward the Pope’s choice?

Kales’s gaze lowered unconsciously. He didn’t speak for a long time. Seeing that, Monica’s lips parted slightly.

"I’m sorry, Kales. I cannot provide you with more support for your work right now."

For the possible wave of public sentiment to come, Monica chose to withdraw at the critical moment, coordinated from within the Church of Light with Astrid’s moves.

"But... there is one thing I can reveal to Commander Kales..."

"I am not a rigid person. All I have pursued in my life is to serve the great omniscient and omnipotent Lord."

"If Lyra is truly that righteous, daring to call herself one watched by the Lord, I am very curious, can she truly purge plague and save the world?"

If possible, at such a sensitive moment, even though curing disease had no direct correspondence to being watched by the Lord, she could still use words to tie the two together tightly, making them inseparable.

What’s more, Monica herself actually believed what Lyra had said today about her identity.

One watched by the Lord. Astrid, the Lord’s incarnation, the holy light knight who cut through thorns; and, corresponding from afar to the Lord’s right hand, the new Empress Amalia, symbol of the secular summit of power, there should be a left hand as well. A human girl named Lyra Beckett ought to be just that.

..................

"Astrid... what did you think of how I did today?"

Within Coldwind City, the pink-haired girl, whose tense emotions had gradually settled, met the Imperial Regent on the watchtower. Her steps were a little light. The small flower pinned among her pink hair fluttered in the wind, its tender petals swaying faintly.

Astrid heard her, lowered the hand propping her chin. The night-sky-colored trumpet sleeve fell naturally, covering her snow-white wrists, her voice low and gentle.

"You did very well, Lyra."

Clear logic, orderly structure, perfectly replicating last night’s speech, and even more stirring in emotional mobilization.

Could it be that Lyra was the type who performed better in big battles, the more eyes on her, the more she could calm her mind and exceed expectations?

Hearing her beloved’s praise, Lyra tilted her head, the corners of her lips lifted slightly. Then she thought of something, and a faint worry surfaced in her blue eyes.

"But Astrid... will what we’re doing really work?"

Or rather, could they truly turn spears into jade and silk with the Church of Light in the short term?

Most of the impressions the Church Knight order left on Lyra were of fanaticism and fearlessness. Whether these people could change their way of thinking... she truly couldn’t be sure.

On this, Astrid saw more clearly.

"Relax, Lyra. What we rely on has never been something as simple as a few words."

The experience of her previous life told Astrid that even the most unbreakable steel alliance would slowly collapse as it rotted from within.

"In the next two days, I will organize further dialogues between the Light believers inside Coldwind City and the Church Knight order. Whether they accept it or not, this is an open stratagem Kales must face."

Either let them carry what they hear and see back to the Church, or reject it cleanly and let the knights testify to the Holy Court’s cruelty.

In any case, for Astrid and the Valeria Empire, it was all benefit and no harm.