Chapter 111: Against Whom Do We Stand?

The next day, the sky was clear and washed with a brilliant blue, the sun shining high and bright, yet within Blackfort Town, dark clouds gathered ominously.

The York family’s war decree had been issued. Family members scattered across their lands obeyed the order, abandoning all castles, villages, and farms, gathering with their soldiers and villagers in Blackfort Town. The population swelled rapidly to over eighty thousand, and the once broad streets suddenly felt cramped. The menace of the monsters weighed heavily on every heart; whether lowly freemen, proud vassals, or high-ranking lords, all shared the same anxious dread.

“Look! Paladins!” exclaimed a passerby, pointing toward a parting crowd.

Three squads of paladins marched down the street. Clad in full chainmail armor with mail coifs beneath leather helmets, wielding one-handed lances, slung tower shields on their backs, and with maces at their hips, they moved in unison. Three men abreast, a hundred men deep, three hundred in total, their synchronized steps radiated an unstoppable force despite their modest number.

“Paladins! The Holy Church’s paladins!”

“The paladins have arrived! We are saved!”

“Praise be to you, paladins of the Radiant Lord! May the glory of the Lord shine upon you!”

At their arrival, the gloom that sunlight could not dispel melted away like spring snow. Passersby stepped aside, creating a wide path for the paladins. Some devout citizens even knelt to kiss the footprints left by these holy warriors.

The people’s hope, praise, and admiration hardened and steadied the youthful faces of the paladins, imbuing them with a mountain-like aura.

Bishop Piero walked quietly behind the paladins, appearing as unassuming as an old farmer. Watching the imposing figures ahead, his eyes filled with pride and sorrow. Unless fate intervened, these young paladins were destined to fall at the Centaur Hills. Yet their bright eyes held excitement, resolve, courage—but never fear.

All paladins knew they were chosen for the salvation of the people and embraced their sacrifice without hesitation. Over seven thousand years, more than a hundred thousand paladins had fallen, standing firm against charges of centaur tribes and sweeping battles with ogre generals. To protect the people, paladins feared nothing and never retreated.

As a senior church official, Piero knew the paladins’ secret: though they emerged from common folk, not everyone could become paladins. Only the most devout and radiant could awaken the holy power, a divine force drawn from the faith of the people. This holy power was the paladins’ blade and shield, and their belief in sacrifice and redemption was the strength behind their swords. To wield a blade meant readiness to sacrifice all for the people’s protection.

“To wear the crown, one must bear its weight”—such was the covenant between the Radiant Lord and the First Pope. Without faith, there was no power; without conviction, one could not wield it. All clergy shared this truth, including Piero. Yet in every battle against the alien hordes, it was the paladins who paid the greatest price. They were the true heroes.

Heroes brave enough to die deserve glory. High-ranking Bishop Piero willingly followed behind the paladins like a humble farmer, allowing these young men to enjoy the honor due to heroes. Still, Piero knew that the church’s strength alone would not suffice to repel the surging tide of ants; he needed the knights’ support.

Led by an attendant, Piero entered Count York’s study and his pupils contracted sharply. The Countess stood by the window, clad in a blue gown that clung to her slender waist like a willow, the hem trailing the floor. Her golden hair had turned a fiery red, and her deep blue eyes now rimmed with a dark crimson hue, exuding an almost hypnotic power.

Piero sighed softly. “Lady Sylvia, may the Radiant Lord’s glory protect you.”

“Bishop, please be seated.” Sylvia turned with a graceful smile, moving to the desk and pouring a cup of coffee. “This is coffee from the Victor domain. Please try it; perhaps soon we shall never again taste this unique drink of the Centaur Hills.”

Piero raised the cup, sipping carefully, savoring its bitter flavor, then sighed quietly. “Has the situation truly deteriorated to this extent?”

“Twelve days ago, the creatures we call ‘ants’ surged from the Great Swamp into the Centaur Hills. On that very day, Baron Porta fell in battle; Viscount Covan’s lands were overrun; Baron Victor’s fate remains unknown. Since then, the ants have seized the Baronies of Riodexi and Tirak. Now, they besiege the castles of Count Terlanden, Baron Velpan, and Baron Eskri,” Sylvia whispered.

“Ants this powerful?” Piero was stunned. In mere days, so many lords had been defeated without even a chance to call for aid.

“A reorganized battalion of the Fang Legion was annihilated while supporting Count Terlanden. Two knights died in battle; only Grand Knight Giles and four squire knights survived,” she said somberly.

Piero’s horror deepened. The Fang Legion numbered only three thousand but was the York family’s elite force. A thousand-strong battalion, led by a grand knight, utterly wiped out with two knights lost—such a defeat spoke volumes about the ants’ ferocity.

“What will you do?” Piero asked grimly. He had hoped the York family would hold the Centaur Hills as a bulwark, and the church had already liaised with the Gambis Kingdom to provide support. But it seemed the Yorks could not hold out much longer.

“Before the family decides, I have some questions for you, Bishop,” Sylvia said calmly, her gaze deep and steady.

Piero’s heart tightened. He knew this concerned the family’s critical decisions.

“Lady Sylvia, please speak,” he responded solemnly.

“Did the forest centaurs migrate because of the ants? How much does the church truly know about these ants?” Sylvia’s sharp eyes cut through him like blades, and her questions left him momentarily speechless.

After a long silence, Piero smiled bitterly. “Lady Sylvia, please do not misunderstand—the church was completely unaware of the ants’ invasion of the Centaur Hills.”

Indeed, the church’s monasteries held records of the ants, but those were ancient accounts. Piero himself had only recently learned the details. As for the York family’s westward migration to the Centaur Hills, the church had no intention of betraying them—this misunderstanding had to be clarified.

After careful thought, Piero said, “The church cannot confirm the cause of the forest centaurs’ migration. As for the ants…”

“According to church records, 1,500 years ago, the legendary paladin Sir Fahild led a group of paladins through the Great Swamp, chasing remnants of the Polytheist Cult, entering the Endless Forest. There, Sir Fahild encountered a foreign empire known as the Assyrian Empire.”

“The Assyrians were cruel and evil, performing blood sacrifices with living victims. Sir Fahild destroyed their altar and was subsequently hunted by the Assyrians. In the end, only Sir Fahild survived, but soon succumbed to his wounds.”

“Originally, the church planned to organize an expeditionary force to purge the Assyrian Empire. However, intelligence brought back by Sir Fahild revealed that the Assyrians were fighting a terrible monster. To prevent this creature from spreading into the human world, the church abandoned the campaign. That monster was the ants. Who would have thought these creatures would still invade human kingdoms?”

Sylvia snorted coldly. Though Piero’s words were evasive, she had pieced together the truth. During his pursuit of the sorcerers, Sir Fahild encountered the Assyrians, who used blood sacrifices to gain strength against the ants. Fahild feigned trust, destroyed their altar, and was hunted in retaliation. The church could not tolerate blood sacrifices. Yet at that time, the church was weak and riven by internal strife. To destroy a powerful alien empire required summoning radiant angels, but the paladins had already effectively sidelined the Pope. Furthermore, the barbarians of the Tyrell Mountains—also aliens—were powerful but outside the Radiant Code’s protection. The church did not consider the Assyrians human. The expedition was abandoned. But with the altar’s destruction, the Assyrian Empire was evidently defeated by the ants, who then spread to the Centaur Hills, just as the York family arrived.

Clearly, this disaster stemmed from the church’s negligence, causing great losses for the family. Yet Bishop Piero was not aligned with the paladins but had close ties to the White Tower. Sylvia suppressed her anger and asked coldly, “What has happened at the northern wildlands bordering the eastern frontier of the Sassan Empire?”

“Why do you ask?” Piero remained silent for a long moment before replying.

“If not for troubles in the Sassan Empire, the Radiant Knights would be here supporting the Centaur Hills, not those inexperienced paladins sent to die! If I’m right, the Sassan Empire is under threat from orcs—either centaur tribes or ogre lords. The sudden peace talks between the Sassans and Dothars confirm this,” Sylvia said with a faint smile.

“I don’t know,” Piero shook his head. Though a bishop, he had been excluded from the church’s core power circle, and the Radiant Knights had not briefed him on the situation in the Sassan Empire, only requisitioning many elite paladins.

“What support does the church plan to give us against the hundred-thousand-strong ant army?” Sylvia asked gravely—the answer would decide the family’s fate.

Piero pondered, then said, “The church is gathering paladins from across the lands. Within a month, no fewer than a thousand paladins will arrive in the Centaur Hills. Additionally, Marquis Goron will lead the Swift Dragon Knights to support you.”

“If that is the church’s full extent of aid, I don’t believe the York family can hold the ants,” Sylvia shook her head. “We will fight with all our might, but without sufficient support, we must consider retreat. After all, tens of thousands still live here. If the forest centaurs migrated because of the ant attacks, it means the assaults come in waves—this is a calamity for all humanity, not something one family can withstand. The only solution is to build a fortified bastion at the Great Swamp’s entrance. Before that, the ants in the Centaur Hills must be thoroughly cleansed. To annihilate the ant army, the church must deploy the Radiant Knights. As for the Swift Dragon Knights, I doubt they can accomplish this.”

Piero recognized the harsh reality in Sylvia’s words. Though strong, the Swift Dragon Knights were no match for the Radiant Knights. Moreover, the Gambis royal family might secretly sap the York family’s strength. If the Yorks withdrew from the Centaur Hills, the human kingdoms’ situation would become unpredictable. The worst case could see the York family allying with Emperor Landt to confront Gambis, seeking a new homeland—a scenario the church desperately wished to avoid.

“I will report these conditions to the Radiant Mountain,” Bishop Piero said, rising to leave. Before stepping out, he cast a long look at the Countess. “Sylvia, the church will do its utmost to support you, but it will never allow civil war in Gambis in the face of disaster.”

Sylvia returned to the window, gazing down upon all of Blackfort Town.

“There is only one battle left—perhaps against the ants, or perhaps against Gambis itself,” the Countess mused quietly.