Chapter 141: Faith and War
At the far end of the street, the choking smoke and dust began to settle, slowly revealing two familiar silhouettes against the ruin.
It was Phainon and Tribbie. Phainon's broad-bladed longsword flashed, its glinting edge precisely striking down a Heavens Condemnation Gladiator that was lunging toward a terrified civilian.
Tribbie stood on a slightly higher piece of rubble behind him, her hands clasped before her chest. A faint, stardust-like glow surrounded her—the lingering aura of the "Oloronis Miracle."
They were clearly carving a path through the enemy ranks, attempting to open a safe passage for the frightened citizens to reach the shelters.
"It's Phainon and the others! This is great!" March 7th exclaimed, her voice a mix of surprise and relief.
"Phainon! Tribbie!" Stelle shouted, her baseball bat sweeping horizontally to send two Gladiators blocking their path flying. The trio quickly closed the distance and joined them.
"You made it," Phainon's voice was as calm as ever. His gaze swept over the three, confirming they were unharmed, but his hands never stopped moving. A wave of sword energy bisected an enemy attempting a flanking attack.
Stelle grinned, gesturing with her bat at the rampaging monsters and the chaotic streets around them. Her tone was resolute. "Of course! We said we'd uphold the will of the Trailblaze, and now's the time! Let us join the fight. With more of us, we can save more people!" Her eyes shone, burning with a fierce determination.
Phainon parried an incoming arrow with his sword, the clang of metal sharp and clear. He glanced back at Stelle, his gaze lingering for a moment before sweeping over Dan Heng and March 7th. His silver-white hair fluttered in the blast wave of a distant explosion. Exhaustion etched fine lines around his eyes, but it couldn't extinguish the unwavering resolve that hardened their depths.
He was silent for a moment, clearly weighing his options, before finally giving a firm nod. "…Alright. Every bit of strength is precious right now, but please remember—you must not stray too far from my side!"
His tone suddenly grew heavier, laced with a stark warning. "Those pawns of discord cannot harm you, but my companions—the Golden-Eyed… their attacks sometimes fail to distinguish between friend and foe."
'Golden-Eyed? Their attacks don't distinguish between friend and foe?' A seed of doubt instantly sprouted in Stelle's mind.
Weren't the "Golden-Eyed" praised in Tribbie's poems supposed to be heroes who protected the world? From the way Phainon spoke, they sounded more like a liability to be wary of. That didn't sound like something you'd say about your own allies.
But the battle was too urgent, leaving her no time to dwell on it. Stelle shook her head, temporarily pushing the questions aside.
'Who cares!' she thought. 'We'll deal with whatever comes our way. No matter how strong they are, can they be stronger than the Annihilation Gang's Lord Ravager, Phantylia? Can they compare to an existence like Sunday? Besides, Mr. Yang and the others are out there looking for reinforcements.'
If all else failed, she still had the chat group as her ultimate trump card. She could just call for backup, and the friends in that group were anything but pushovers.
Brimming with confidence, Stelle immediately replied, "Understood! We'll be careful! Let's go!"
Phainon said no more. He exchanged a quick glance with Tribbie and then charged back into the fray. "Follow me! There's a civilian gathering point ahead that needs support!"
They advanced with purpose, moving as a single unit toward a larger assembly point for the city's populace—which also happened to be one of the most intense fronts of the battle. Everyone followed closely, handling the freshly "remodeled" streets, and soon arrived at a relatively open square.
The closer they got, the more shocking the scene became.
The makeshift defenses had long been shattered. Amidst the rubble, guards in Okhema's standard-issue armor formed a desperate line, using spears, shields, and their own bodies to fend off the surging tide of Heavens Condemnation Gladiators.
Every clash was a cacophony of roars, screams, and the harsh clang of metal on metal. The casualties among the guards were mounting with each passing second, their blood staining the broken paving stones a deep, tragic crimson.
However, what struck Stelle, March 7th, and Dan Heng as utterly surreal was the group of Okhema citizens right at the edge of this brutal battlefield.
They weren't fleeing in panic. They were… kneeling on the ground.
With hands clasped and eyes closed, they faced the smoke-filled sky, their gazes fixed on the faint, colossal silhouette of Kefalos in the city center. They murmured words of devout prayer, their voices a low, constant hum beneath the din of war, as if the slaughter and destruction unfolding mere feet away didn't exist.
"It's too dangerous here! Get out! Go to the other shelters!" Dan Heng's sharp voice cut through the chaos as he shouted at the kneeling citizens.
One of them, an old man who appeared to be their leader, looked up. His face held no fear, only a near-fanatical certainty.
He responded loudly, his voice unnervingly clear in a lull between explosions. "No, young man! It is safe here! The divine light of Kefalos will protect everything! No one will truly die! Because the heroes will protect this city-state! The Golden-Eyed will protect us!"
The outrageous declaration left Stelle dumbfounded, almost making her think her ears were malfunctioning.
She pointed a trembling finger at the guards fighting and dying in a river of their own blood. Her voice cracked with disbelief, sharpening into a blade of outrage. "Safe?! You're kneeling here, and those guards don't even dare retreat because they have to protect you!"
"They're buying you time with their lives! You're not just putting pressure on them—you're pinning them down! How are they supposed to fall back?!"
"Stelle!" Phainon's low voice cut through her angry tirade. "Let them be."
He looked at the devoutly praying citizens, and a complex, unreadable emotion flickered deep within his ice-blue eyes. Was it pity? Helplessness? Or the crushing weight of responsibility?
"In an apocalypse, when the world is crumbling around them," he began, his voice low and heavy, "faith is sometimes the only pillar left standing. It becomes the vessel for their entire reason to live."
He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, his knuckles turning white. His voice carried an almost metallic resolve. "And our duty—the obvious duty of the Golden-Eyed—is to never betray that trust and hope. That is the meaning of our existence."
Before his words had even faded, Phainon became a silver bolt of lightning, fearlessly charging back into the most intense part of the battle. His sword light flashed, cutting down the Gladiators that were about to break through the guard line.
Dan Heng stared at the citizens, still kneeling and praying, seemingly oblivious to the peril at their doorstep. He then looked at Phainon's resolute back as he plunged into the enemy horde and silently shook his head. He understood now. At this moment, no words could shake a faith that had taken root in the soil of despair.
He no longer tried to persuade them. Instead, he tightened his grip on Cloud-Piercer, a faint shimmer of a Geo shield manifesting around him. He followed closely behind Phainon, bravely charging into the enemy ranks and targeting several elite Heaven's Condemnation Vanguards that were on the verge of shattering the defensive line.
March 7th looked at the absurd, tragic scene before her. She opened her mouth, but for once, no complaint came out. She pursed her lips, her expression growing exceptionally serious. Drawing her bowstring taut, she released an ice-blue arrow that trailed a bone-chilling cold, precisely freezing an enemy attempting to ambush Phainon from the flank.
She patted the arm of Stelle, who was still slightly dazed, clearly shaken by that fanatical declaration of faith. "Let's go, Stelle. Don't overthink it. Let's just deal with these enemies first! We'll protect who we can protect!"
Stelle took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the irritation bubbling in her chest. The absurdity of it all was maddening, but March was right. Her eyes sharpened once more.
"Mhm!" She nodded heavily, leveling her baseball bat at the encroaching monsters. The power of Destruction crackled around it, hungry and volatile. "Then… let's get to work!"
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