Chapter 81: The Final Struggle

“The path is rough. Artillery units, pay close attention to the condition of the gun carriages as you move.”

“Has the reconnaissance team departed yet? I instructed them to patrol the surroundings with light cavalry every three hours.”

Marching forward in formation, tens of thousands of soldiers maintained discipline, ready to engage in battle at any moment.

Their rhythmic, precise steps crushed the Holy Kingdom’s land beneath their feet, steadily advancing across its territory.

Nearby civilians, unaware of what was happening, fled in panic.

Watchtowers set up for surveillance were abandoned in mere moments.

Watching the unprepared enemy crumble under the unexpected assault, the commander of the Imperial Army smiled with satisfaction.

“Ha, never thought I’d see a day like this again. Who would’ve guessed I’d be conducting joint operations with our friends from Ulranor?”

That man was none other than Sébastien de Leclerc, once the commander overseeing the Western Front, now leading the invasion force against the Holy Kingdom.

“You seem pleased, sir,” his aide remarked.

“Not pleased, exactly. Just… it’s an odd feeling,” Leclerc replied, shaking his head.

Despite his denial, he couldn’t completely suppress the sense of joy in his heart.

To be precise, it was more like nostalgia—a wistful recollection of his younger days.

“We spent ten long years at war with the Kingdom, didn’t we? I thought it would last until one of us was completely destroyed.”

“I think everyone believed that, sir.”

“But everything changed when the source of the war lost its power. Relations between our nations improved, and the war came to an end.”

When the Riodolph royal family, whom even calling “vermin” seemed generous, was overthrown, the reasons for war vanished.

The two nations quickly reconciled.

The extradition of war criminals and mutually beneficial agreements were arranged, and the endless drain on military resources was finally curtailed.

Soldiers who had been dying pointlessly on the front lines were able to return home at last.

All of this was a direct result of the actions of Carolus and his revolutionary army.

“The bullets and firepower we once aimed at each other are now being used for our mutual benefit. Just like decades ago.”

“Decades ago… Ah, you mean the Five Years’ War?”

“That’s right. This old man served in that war too. I still remember it vividly.”

While some under-the-table dealings and agreements had taken place, the two nations were now working together once again.

That fact delighted Leclerc—it felt as though he was reliving a piece of his youth.

“Report, sir! A church has been spotted 10 miles ahead! There’s also a small group of militia present!”

“Ah, it seems I’ve been too lost in my thoughts.”

The loud voice of the messenger jolted Leclerc out of his reminiscing and back to reality.

It was time to set sentimentality aside and focus on the task at hand.

The warm, grandfatherly expression he wore moments ago quickly transformed into the composed, battle-hardened demeanor of a seasoned veteran.

“What’s their armed status? Do we have an estimate of their numbers?”

“They’re armed with tools like pitchforks and hoes, wielding them like spears. A few rusty muskets as well.”

“So, they’re just ordinary peasants gathered together in desperation.”

It seemed the reports were true—the Holy Kingdom had concentrated the majority of its forces in the south.

The Ulranor army had already advanced 20 miles past the border, yet they hadn’t encountered a single organized military force.

Leclerc saw this as an opportunity.

“Send a battalion forward to deal with them. Prioritize capturing them over killing, if possible.”

“Yes, sir!”

“The church must be a spacious building. Once it’s secured, we’ll use it as a temporary command post. If there are clergy inside, extract any useful information and then… deal with them.”

Hearing Leclerc’s plan to repurpose a religious site for military use, his aide expressed concern.

“Sir, won’t our own clergy object to this later? They might accuse us of disrespecting a place meant for worship.”

“Blasphemy, lack of faith, that sort of nonsense? You worry too much.”

Leclerc shrugged his shoulders.

“We’re here to punish those the Saintess herself has declared heretics. The priests and bishops in this church have been officially recognized as wicked apostates. There’s no need to fret over such things.”

The Saintess had traveled throughout the kingdom, loudly proclaiming her criticisms of the Holy Kingdom and declaring it heretical.

By now, there wasn’t a single person in the Empire who wasn’t aware of her words.

This was likely true not just within the Empire but across the entire continent.

And when Emperor Louis XVI acknowledged her declarations and raised an army, what did that signify?

It was essentially a proclamation that all clergy of the Holy Kingdom were offspring of Satan.

In other words, no matter how many were captured, beaten, or killed, it wouldn’t be considered a problem.

“Set aside your unnecessary concerns. They won’t be able to say a word to us.”

In any case, once the war was over, the clergy in this land were slated for purging to ensure control.

Given that, there was no harm in starting their oppression early—consider it preparation for the inevitable future.

Leclerc thought this to himself with a slight smirk.

“If you understand, go back and manage the soldiers. Once the village is cleared, we’ll establish a camp nearby.”

“…Understood, sir.”

The troops, weary from prolonged marching, would rest, and operations would resume around midday tomorrow.

At this pace, they would likely secure all the promised territory within two weeks.

“Come to think of it…”

Leclerc wondered idly.

When the Holy Father heard that not only were his lands being carved up in the south, but now armies from the north were descending upon him, how would he react?

As expected, the Holy See was on the verge of collective panic.

“Why is the Empire suddenly taking action?!”

“It’s obvious they’re trying to use this opportunity to expand their territory. There’s no other explanation!”

“There must have been some prior agreement with the Kingdom. They’ve decided to split our land between them!”

It was already overwhelming trying to deal with the Kingdom’s army, but now another enemy had appeared—this time from the opposite direction.

Their individual combat ability might be slightly inferior, but their numbers were several times larger.

“We can’t stop this, Your Holiness. We no longer have the money or the soldiers to fight.”

The difficulty of facing enemies on two fronts was on an entirely different level compared to having a single enemy.

Logistics, strategy, troop movements—everything became exponentially harder.

But the Holy Kingdom, in its current state, simply didn’t have the capacity to handle a two-front war.

Even if the nation had been in perfect condition, it would have been a formidable challenge.

In their current dire situation, how could there be any hope?

They couldn’t even collect taxes properly, nor provide enough food for their soldiers, forcing them to resort to local requisitioning.

“How long do you think we can hold out?”

“At most, three weeks. The enemy is just too strong.”

Desperately, a portion of the troops heading south was redirected to the north to join the local forces in an attempt to fight off the invaders.

But it was useless.

The defenses collapsed before they could even be established, leaving the Holy Kingdom’s lines in shambles.

To make matters worse, with fewer obstacles in their way, the Kingdom’s army to the south became even more aggressive, their momentum now unstoppable.

“Three weeks…?”

The Holy Father could do nothing but let out a deep sigh.

He couldn’t even summon the energy to be angry anymore.

“Are you saying this nation will fall in just twenty days? What on earth makes those heretical armies superior to ours?”

Of course, the quality of their troops was lacking—that was understandable for a hastily assembled army.

But still, they had 80,000 soldiers.

Including the reinforcements currently being prepared, their numbers would reach nearly 100,000.

That was far greater than the total number of invading forces combined.

How was it possible that a force of this size couldn’t hold out for even a month?

Faced with the Holy Father’s questions, his subordinates could only give one answer:

“We’re deeply sorry, Your Holiness. But how can we change the reality of the situation?”

“…Damn it.”

What the Holy Kingdom didn’t know was that the Imperial expeditionary force was composed primarily of divisions previously stationed on the southern front.

These were battle-hardened troops who had survived the hellish snowy fields, boasting unmatched skill and experience, and were considered the best the Empire had to offer.

When news of Carolus’s revolutionary army achieving brilliant victories reached the Emperor, he specifically mobilized these troops out of competitive pride.

While their equipment and doctrine were the same as other units, their prowess on the battlefield was worlds apart.

Naturally, the ragtag soldiers of the Holy Kingdom stood no chance against them.

Many were mowed down in volleys of gunfire long before they could even engage in close combat.

“Are we just supposed to sit here and await our doom?”

The Holy Father muttered to himself, his voice heavy with despair.

It felt like only yesterday that he had reveled in boundless luxury and glory, sustained by the blood of the Saintess and the sacrifices of his people.

And yet, here he was now, standing before the crumbled ruins of the Holy Temple, watching the inevitable ruin of his kingdom approach.

‘No, this cannot happen.’

But he refused to give up. He couldn’t afford to.

He had amassed so much wealth and power over the years.

He had endured countless hardships to rise to his position.

To die without enjoying it to the fullest was unthinkable.

(Let’s momentarily ignore the fact that all of this had been squeezed out of the blood and sweat of the people and the Saintess, quite literally.)

“Send messengers to the frontlines. Order all surviving Holy Knight Orders and elite troops to retreat to the Holy See.”

“Your Holiness?!”

“If you do that, the already fragile frontlines will completely collapse!”

“What’s the point of maintaining a frontline we can’t hold anyway? This is more important.”

The Holy Father glared at the chief overseer of the Holy See’s reconstruction efforts.

“You there! How much longer will it take to clear the debris and unseal the basement?”

“It will likely take another month, Your Holiness.”

“Get it done in two weeks. No exceptions! If you fail, I’ll have your limbs torn off, your skin flayed, and your body tied to the back of a horse!”

“I-I will do my utmost!”

Terrified, the overseer rushed off to carry out the Holy Father’s orders.

Turning to his subordinates, the Holy Father bellowed:

“The Church has faced many crises throughout its history. There have been plenty of times when enemies came right to our doorstep.”

“But we overcame them all—with the power of the great Goddess! And we shall do so again this time!”

The Goddess had always guided her followers through their trials, helping them escape even the direst of crises.

This time would be no different.

Because the Holy Father himself would ensure it.