When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist
Chapter 66: Betting on the Fate of the Nation (5)

Chapter 66: Chapter 66: Betting on the Fate of the Nation (5)

Above the small muddy ditch, red maple leaves drifted down from the woods, with fresh red blood flowing over the yellow mud.

Corpses lay half-dead on the ground, while the cries of battle from the central army continued.

The bloody stench had already spread over to the other side, yet the five brigades of the Imperial Guard and their five independent archer units still grappled with the Night Guard.

Commanding the battle were the acting commander of the Imperial Guard and the first brigade’s leader, Dass.

Dass was originally an Armed Farmer from Red Mill Village, technically, he was a distant relative of His Holiness the Pope.

Truly with deep and pure roots.

But at this moment, he was lost in a state of confusion and bewilderment.

According to Jeska’s instructions, they were not to advance or retreat until the central army was broken.

The first reason Jeska arranged it this way was because, frankly, the fighting capability of the Pope Guard was no match for the Night Guard.

Even though the Night Guard had less training and were more like a militia, they had undergone formal training and had combat experience.

If you put a single Pope Guard against a single Night Guard, eight out of ten times they’d lose the fight.

The second reason was to confuse the enemy army.

If the Pope Guard did not launch an attack, they wouldn’t be injured and would not attack with full force, focusing only on avoid being harmed.

Thus, by obliterating all the Peasant Soldiers, they could surround them on three sides, even the Armored Soldiers couldn’t save them then.

With this thought in mind, Jeska gave the Imperial Guard just one order: hold firm, and there would be a way through.

In the 55-man phalanx of the Imperial Guard, the large shields in the front row firmly blocked the "attacks" of the Night Guards’ hook spears.

But rather than an attack, Dass felt it was more like trickery.

The actions of those Night Guards were too bizarre, their hands on the hook spears seemed to be greased with butter, dropping easily.

They would even sometimes leave themselves wide open, or intentionally stick their heads over, saying strange things like "Brother, strike," or "Help, slash me."

Could it be an invitation to attack? Is there an ambush behind them?

But it was just these few people, Dass could see through to the end, there was no ambush!

What exactly were they doing?

"What are these secret faction guys doing?" Pico complained helplessly.

According to the earlier agreement, this was the time for Quincy to make an appearance and turn the tide.

Captain Quincy rushed it, but these secret faction rebels were like iron turtles.

Such cowardice!

But thinking about their previous exploits, Pico felt it might be understandable.

He gritted his teeth, leaned to the front row, whispered to a Night Guard, then retreated.

After some murmurs and whispers, four or five front row Night Guards suddenly shouted and charged forward.

Were they going to launch an assault?

Dass perked up and shouted loudly, "Imperial Guard!"

Bending his waist and knees, gripping his long spear tightly, Dass’s eyes were fixed on their movements.

He saw them take large strides forward, thrusting their chests at the spear tips; but just a few centimeters away, they let out a sharp scream... and then fell backward onto the ground?

Huh?

"We can’t do it, the front row losses are too severe, let’s fall back first and regroup."

Pico’s voice reached the ears, and although the other Night Guards were confused, they obeyed the order and slowly retreated.

Dass was utterly bewildered.

If he hadn’t seen it firsthand, he’d almost think he’d truly speared them dead.

"Commander Dass, what’s going on here?"

"You ask me, who do I ask?"

Dass rubbed his temples, looking at the ground full of wailing Night Guards, falling into an indescribable self-doubt.

"What to do? Do we pursue or not?"

"Pursue, otherwise they’ll all escape."

"Will Jeska Corps Commander blame us after the battle?"

"Such weak words, are you sure you’re not learning from the Black Hat Army?"

"He is the Black Hat Army’s commander, what’s that got to do with us? We are the soldiers of His Holiness the Pope."

"Brothers, we crawled out from the blades and guns, don’t lose face."

After a brief exchange, the Pope Guard made their decision, pursue!

They couldn’t let those henchmen of the Black Hat Army arrogantly raise themselves above the Imperial Guard.

Previously, when His Holiness the Pope was preaching, he mentioned that orders from the King can be disregarded when generals are outside.

"Left foot! Right foot! Left foot! Right foot!"

Amongst the orderly shouts, the Pope Guards began cautiously advancing forward.

Just as Dass attempted to move past the wailing Night Guard on the ground, a strong arm wrapped around Dass’s leg.

Dass immediately pulled out a short axe from his waist.

"What are you trying to do? Come and chop me."

"You’re already down, what’s there to chop? Let go of me."

"I already told you, if you’re down without a wound, anyone can see, so give me a quick stab."

Dass was stunned, not just Dass, but even the Pope Guards stepping over the Night Guards were perplexed.

They were unaware of the secret transaction between the upper echelons of Pope Country and Quincy.

Horn and the others would never reveal this, otherwise the lie of the "Special Athletic Operation" would be uncovered.

After a brief thought, Dass understood the intention of the other party.

According to His Holiness, this was an athletic event equivalent to a minor holy war. From the words of this Night Guard, it seemed he wanted to ascend Paradise Mountain.

With this in mind, Dass felt a deep respect for this unassuming Night Guard.

Although entering Paradise Mountain is the highest aspiration of every believer, it doesn’t mean they aren’t afraid to die.

There are still many things worth cherishing in the human world, and compared to entering Paradise Mountain, Dass valued worldly possessions more.

Such as accolades after the battle, titles, and land.

The Night Guard before him was so devout, wanting to enter Paradise Mountain in their prime, to reach the lush lands and serve the supreme being!

Not only Dass, but all the Pope Guards realized this, and they all cast admiring glances at the Night Guards.

While the Night Guards were still bewildered, Dass and his companions swiftly took off their short axes and swords, and aimed at the necks of the Night Guards.

The guards fell with eyes wide open, this time truly laying on the ground, clutching their neck wounds, gasping for air.

Blood oozed through their fingers as their legs kicked the ground repeatedly, convulsing and unable to speak a word.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Pico, who had been watching the scene, could hardly believe his eyes, "I told you to give a stab, who told you to slice their necks?"

But none of the Pope Guards heeded Pico’s words; they briskly ended the lives of the seven or eight fallen guards and continued advancing.

Looking at the bloodstained axes and swords, Pico couldn’t help but shout angrily, "You, you guys, this local Secret Faction lacks professionalism!"

But the response he received was not any explanation or dialogue, but a short axe flying straight toward his forehead.

"You’ve attacked the wrong people!" Pico nearly ran to the front row, disregarding the risk of exposure, "This side is faking it, the Peasant Soldiers are the ones really fighting!"

Turning his head, he narrowly dodged a gleaming spear, a Night Guard shouted to Pico, "No, Pico, they seem to be serious."

Gazing at the corpses on the ground and the neatly formed rebellious army, Pico was speechless.

A terrifying thought quickly occupied Pico’s mind.

As his head filled with heat, he tasted bitterness in his throat, "This is bad, we’ve been tricked."

With this realization, the other Night Guards, including those unattached to the event, also came to understand.

They began cursing Quincy and attempted to reorganize their formation, with several stout Night Guards wielding raven’s beak war hammers moving to the forefront.

However, due to the collective training and the morale boost from the "Special Athletic Operation," these Pope Guards surprisingly maintained an even footing when the Night Guards launched a counterattack.

The battlefield relies on momentous energy; once momentum is lost, it’s hard to regain later.

These Night Guards not retreating entirely was already considered maintaining their principles.

Standing in the front line, Pico abandoned his previous attitude of avoiding combat and loudly encouraged his companions.

Since he was the one orchestrating the entire event, he would definitely take the blame afterwards.

To minimize repercussions, Pico had no choice but to gritted his teeth and step forward, hoping to offset his mistakes with merit.

"Give it your all, what is this Secret Faction even worth!"

"Hold on a bit longer, Captain Quincy has noticed the issue and is coming to save us!"

"Charge! Miseria will surely protect us."

While Pico was loudly cheering, a warm ray of light fell upon him.

He looked up, spirits lifted.

A shimmering ball of light hovered in mid-air, it was the blessing of the Monks; even though Pico had much dissatisfaction with Boned, he was now almost willing to kneel and call him father.

"Look, the monks’ blessing."

Following Pico’s pointed direction, everyone saw the floating ball of light in midair, so warm, so gentle.

The light orb floated aimlessly in mid-air, swaying as it advanced.

And then, this orb carrying the hopes of all the Night Guards slowly descended, landing among the Imperial Guard on the opposite side.