Chapter 374: Attempt at Dialogue (1)
“The Holy Knights, stay back. Servants, keep advancing—press forward slowly, just like now.”
Wineham, North Street, Block 582R.
One of the Holy Knights issued instructions through a wireless communication device.
His name was Galahad, and he was the lead commander for the current mission to eliminate the Wineham Cult.
A member of the hardline faction within the Pater Church, Galahad was a veteran Holy Knight with over a hundred solo missions and several dozen group operations under his belt, renowned among the ranks of Holy Knights.
As evidence of his authority, dozens of Servants and even his fellow Holy Knights, known for their pride, obeyed his orders without question.
Such obedience signified both trust and acknowledgment of Galahad's abilities.
However, despite that fact, Galahad was not the main player in this mission.
And he was well aware of it himself.
He was closer to a director than the lead actor on stage.
For this reason, even though their forces held an overwhelming advantage in both numbers and skill, as well as strategic positioning, he avoided an all-out assault and instead chose to herd the enemy into a corner.
All to orchestrate a grand and majestic spectacle.
...Though, if he were to be honest, he wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about it.
Having participated in countless battles and missions, Galahad found such an inefficient approach unsatisfactory.
After all, he was a Holy Knight, not a politician.
Nonetheless, Galahad proceeded with the mission as originally planned, honoring his duties as a Holy Knight. Years of experience and the passage of time had taught him the importance of perception.
For the sake of the future, this dramatic display was essential, however cumbersome it might feel.
Humanity needed a focal point around which to unite.
Chik—! Chik—!
The distinct crackle of the wireless device sounded as a report came through.
One team that had entered the sealed temple reported that they had repelled the resisting cult priests.
[The enemies have ceased resisting. They are retreating to the temple. Shall we pursue?]
Remaining calm in the face of this small victory, Galahad, a seasoned knight, reminded himself of his role and the true ultimate objective of this mission.
Officially, the goal was to eliminate the recently emerged cult in Celland, but there was a deeper, unspoken objective. However, now was not the time to act on it.
The spotlight was not his to claim.
“No, apply pressure and drive them into the temple, but do not enter. Just surround it thoroughly to prevent any escape.”
[Understood.]
After hearing the response over the device, Galahad repositioned himself to observe the battle.
Although they were not actively advancing with full force, the dark magicians on the other side were putting up a respectable fight.
Most dark magicians were utterly helpless before the might of holy magic, yet these dark magicians had armed themselves with firearms and were resisting with all they had.
Of course, they couldn’t match the highly trained Servants of the Pater Church.
Chik—! Chik—! Reports continued to come in from the device, confirming that cultists had been subdued, with further requests to pursue the fleeing enemies.
Galahad issued the same order as before, instructing the teams to encircle them completely.
“Hey, Mole. Are things clear on your end?”
Galahad directed his question to the Holy Knights and Servants stationed in the underground sewer beneath the sealed temple.
To secure a flawless mission, he had sent two teams down into the sewer in advance to block any escape routes.
As a result, the cult members had no way to flee underground.
[All clear. Some attempted to escape, but they’ve all been taken care of.]
“Well done. Stand by and maintain your positions.”
[Understood.]
Galahad surveyed the scene, with cultists now trapped like rats in a cage within the abandoned temple and his comrades, the Holy Knights and Servants, encircling them.
It felt a little ironic.
A cult, hiding in an abandoned temple, now surrounded by Holy Knights.
Then again, life was full of ironies, so perhaps it wasn’t so strange after all...
‘I suppose I’m showing my age.’
Lost in thought during the mission, Galahad shook his head to clear his mind of these musings and turned to a nearby Servant.
“Is the recording device active?”
“Yes, sir,” the Servant replied, producing a device that looked similar to a pocket watch.
It was a magical device crafted by the Ilmarinen Workshop, capable of recording the surrounding events—a fascinating piece of equipment.
The footage it would capture here would lend power to their cause, enabling a stronger defense against the upcoming crisis for humanity.
This mission was the first step in securing humanity’s future.
“Good, then━”
━Whiiiiing!!
Just as Galahad was about to give his next order, a faint yet distinct buzzing noise echoed from above.
It sounded like the flapping of an insect’s wings.
Although it was still summer, and insects were not uncommon, something about this particular sound made everyone look up instinctively.
“What the hell is that…?”
A Servant muttered.
Galahad felt the same way.
To see a vehicle resembling an armored car suddenly falling from the sky… it was such a surreal sight that he almost questioned his own eyes.
But the next moment was even more unbelievable.
One side of the car’s hood popped open, revealing a massive Gatling gun—a weapon capable of reducing a person to mincemeat.
Even the Servants, who had undergone rigorous training, found themselves transfixed by the sight of this Gatling gun aiming skyward and firing.
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat━━!!!
The gun roared, spraying bullets wildly into the sky.
Although the Gatling gun wasn’t aimed at them, its sheer intensity and power left the Servants shaken, and soon spent shell casings rained down like a storm.
As the scene continued to defy understanding, someone emerged calmly from the car.
Draped in a green cloak and wearing a wooden mask, he used extraordinary physical prowess to spring off the vehicle and leap directly onto the roof of the temple where the cultists were hiding.
...
Crash—!!
As Oliver swung open the car door, he could feel the amplified sound of the rushing wind, an almost tangible impact on his eardrums.
‘Seems I opened the portal a bit too high this time,’ he thought, gazing down at the small, toy-like buildings and the vast sky around him.
Still, perhaps it wasn’t so bad… Whatever the case, he had succeeded in diverting the attention of the Servants encircling Mari and her group.
They were completely focused on the descending car and the storm of bullets from the Gatling gun, and Oliver took advantage of the moment, leaping from the vehicle and pulling out a handful of branches from his cloak as he vaulted toward the roof of the sealed temple where Mari was hiding.
As Oliver landed, the car hit the ground with a tremendous crash, and one of the Servants shouted.
“Fire!”
At the command, all the Servants surrounding the temple aimed at Oliver and opened fire.
Bullets shot toward him from pistols, rifles, submachine guns, and even a cross-gun with piercing projectiles, leaving little room for escape.
With their remarkable marksmanship, several bullets made contact, but Oliver avoided direct damage thanks to the sturdy bean stalks wrapped around his body.
Holding onto the mix of nature’s power and life force within the branches, Oliver launched them onto the temple’s rooftop with lightning speed.
Thud-thud-thud━!
The branches, fast as daggers, lodged themselves precisely where Oliver had aimed, and he activated a spell, infusing the branches with life, just as he had during the previous assault on the Pater Church.
Rustle━!!
The branches embedded in the temple rooftop took root, spreading over the walls and roof, growing into a massive tree that enveloped the entire structure.
Standing on this newly formed tree, Oliver manipulated the branches to shield himself.
Bullets hurtling towards him were intercepted by the thick tree trunks, allowing Oliver to stay calm and crouched, holding his ground instead of launching a counterattack.
If he remained defensive, they would likely pause their attacks to assess the situation.
‘When that happens, I’ll have a chance to initiate dialogue━ Ah...’
As Oliver defended himself on the temple rooftop, his eyes met Mari’s through a gap in the ceiling.
Despite the distance and her partially obscured face, Mari immediately recognized him, her gaze widening with surprise.
Her emotions betrayed her shock—she was almost in disbelief, and soon, overwhelming joy, awe, and gratitude radiated from her expression.
“A-Ah… Lord━”
“Shhh.”
Just as Mari opened her mouth to speak, Oliver placed a finger over his masked face, signaling her to stay quiet.
There were two reasons for this.
First, with the Holy Knights nearby, it was dangerous to reveal his identity.
Second, he was reluctant to explain to the dozens of people around Mari that he was indeed Oliver, not the ‘Lord’ she seemed to hold in such high regard.
Thankfully, Mari understood his intent. She clasped her hands over her mouth, struggling to contain the urge to call out to him.
It was almost heartbreaking to see her restraining herself so desperately. She had accomplished greater feats alone, yet she reacted this way now, something Oliver couldn’t fully comprehend.
Tears glistening in her eyes, Mari held her mouth shut, her emotions turbulent. Those nearby noticed and approached her, asking what was wrong.
They then spotted Oliver, their faces showing confusion as they connected Mari’s inexplicable reaction to his sudden appearance.
Rather than explaining, Oliver decided to focus on the immediate task, signaling to Mari with a simple gesture, asking if she would let him handle the situation outside.
Though it was just hand signals, Mari understood and nodded gratefully.
Oliver offered a slight nod in return, contemplating how best to approach the Holy Knights for a conversation. Just then, his chance arrived.
“Cease fire.”
A steady yet weighty voice reverberated across the area, and the torrent of bullets aimed at Oliver abruptly halted.
Slowly, Oliver raised his hands and rose to his feet.
“Who are you?”
A middle-aged man stepped forward from among the encircling forces, addressing Oliver. He wore a steel coat, had neatly combed hair, and sported a distinguished mustache. His sharp eyes and wiry but solid build made it clear he was the commander.
Judging by the reactions and emotions of those around, this man was undoubtedly their leader.
“A druid... I’m a druid. May I ask who you are, sir?”
“I am Holy Knight Galahad, the commander overseeing the operation to exterminate the Wineham Cult. Who are you?”
“A druid━”
“Don’t dare lie to a Holy Knight.”
Galahad’s voice cut sharply. He spoke not out of suspicion but with an air of certainty.
“...And why do you assume I’m not a druid?”
“I’ve encountered druids before—the orthodox, the reformed, and even the ones in it for enjoyment... You’re not one of them.”
Oliver felt a surge of admiration. The man spoke sincerely, without pretense.
Possessing a depth of experience and insight, Galahad continued.
“I also sensed a human life force mingling with the natural energy you wielded. You may have tried to blend it inconspicuously, but you can’t fool me. Now, reveal your true identity.”
Oliver hesitated.
He hadn’t anticipated that someone would see through his druid disguise and even detect the life force he had used.
“Well… If I’m honest with you, could we have a peaceful discussion?”
“...Certainly.”
“That’s a lie.”
Without hesitation, Oliver replied to Galahad’s words, and at the same moment, he manipulated the branches rooted in the temple to strike down a Holy Knight who had been stealthily approaching from behind.
A tree branch, as thick as a street-side tree trunk, collided with the Holy Knight’s protective holy magic, shattering on impact like glass hitting a wall.
Crash━!
With a loud crash, the tree branch splintered into pieces.
Even a branch infused with nature’s power and human life force had shattered completely.
This man was no ordinary knight.
“Is dialogue truly impossible?” Oliver asked, turning to face Galahad, who had already drawn closer.
Oliver had gauged that the Holy Knight possessed far beyond average physical abilities, but it was clear he was even more formidable.
Galahad, with a quick draw of his long sword encased in steel gauntlets, responded.
“There’s no talking with cultists. And even less with one whose identity is a mystery.”
With that, he swung his sword at Oliver.