July 9, early morning.
In the dawn, Archbishop Henry got out of the carriage and looked at the messy camp with a gloomy expression.
"What's going on here? Basil! Basil!"
"archbishop...."
The disgraced Basile came over, lowered his head, not daring to look directly into Archbishop Henry's eyes: "Late last night, the vampires attacked our camp. They took advantage of their ability to fly and blew up our artillery positions... .”
"Did you fail to stop them?" Archbishop Henry said in a bad tone: "I gave you so many magic rings, but you can't even protect the camp?"
"I used the Arrow of Ticeus, but still couldn't stop Edward..." Basiledu muttered: "It's too powerful."
Taking a deep breath, Archbishop Henry did not continue to blame Basil. Edward, the Lord of Blood, was indeed very powerful. Although not as good as a real god, he was not an opponent that ordinary monks could defeat.
"What are the casualties?"
"Three hundred soldiers died and thousands were injured, but our monks were not injured!"
"Um."
This result was still within the acceptable range of Archbishop Henry. In order to protect the vanguard, he asked Basile to lead a hundred monks to rush outside the city of Tver to occupy favorable terrain and prepare for the decisive battle.
It's okay to lose some soldiers and artillery. The key is the monks, there is no room for loss.
"Where is Prince Ivanovich?"
Looking around, Archbishop Henry did not see Yinvanovich.
"He was involved in last night's explosion and was hit by a fragment in his right arm. He is resting."
"It's good that you're not dead."
Archbishop Henry took two steps and suddenly remembered something. He turned around, nodded and bowed to the carriage behind him: "Constance, please get out of the car."
In the carriage with the curtains tightly closed, a pair of black leather boots poked out, stepped on the muddy and slippery ground and then retracted. After a while, as if they had gathered enough courage, a man wearing a black gauze skirt, who looked to be an older man, appeared. However, a girl of fifteen or sixteen years old jumped out of the carriage, her skin as white as paper seemed to be transparent and could be broken by a blow.
A pair of deep black eyes with a slightly hollow luster looked straight ahead. The slightest sound would attract her attention. She seemed to be a blind person.
"Saint, please."
Archbishop Henry stretched out his hand to the saint, letting Constance grab his arm and guide her towards the temporary command post.
"grandfather...."
"Don't call me grandpa, you are a saint, just call me by my name."
Constance shrank her neck and said hesitantly: "Oh... Archbishop Henry..."
"What's up?"
"I seem to hear the screams of soldiers and the smell of gunpowder. Where are we?"
"This is the front line." Archbishop Henry explained patiently: "We have to defeat the rebel army led by Katerina. Only by defeating them can we complete the task assigned by the great Anatole."
"That's it..."
Constance lowered her eyes and whispered: "I don't like war..."
"This is not a war, it is a just trial to eliminate heretics. You should be happy, Constance."
"......Um."
Basil followed Archbishop Henry and the Saint step by step, listening to their conversation, secretly smacking his tongue, and feeling guilty in his heart.
Archbishop Henry is definitely a ruthless person who is willing to send the granddaughter of his family to the church and become the medium used by Anatole, the god of wisdom, to descend.
Saints have no freedom. They are like larks in a cage. They cannot help themselves. They have no power to choose their own destiny. Until they grow old, they cannot live like ordinary people, just like a puppet. .
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Who wants their child to become a puppet?
Even Basil, who was loyal to Anatole, was unwilling to dedicate his daughter to the church, but Archbishop Henry did so. He gave his most beloved granddaughter to Anatole and was proud of it. .
Before Paul I committed suicide, he called Archbishop Henry a madman, and he was absolutely right.
In the temporary command post, Archbishop Henry saw Duke Ivanovich with a bandage on his shoulder and hanging from his neck. His face was pale and he was sitting at the table in a daze, looking like he was lost.
"Prince Yinvanovich, how is your injury?"
"ah...."
After coming back to his senses, Duke Yinvanovich looked at the sudden arrival of Archbishop Henry, and stood up quickly: "I...I'm fine."
"Please don't worry about your family. Alexey and the others will definitely be entertained grandly. I guarantee it with my personality and loyalty to Anatole."
"...."
Archbishop Henry took Constance to sit down at the table and asked, "What's going on in Tver City?"
"The rebels are digging trenches and plan to start a trench war with us." Prince Ivanovich replied: "I suggest that we bypass the city of Tver and attack Rzhev not far away. As long as we can capture Rzhev, Mosk is just around the corner.”
"Mosk is not our primary target, our primary target is in the city of Tver."
In terms of military command, Archbishop Henry is not as good as Duke Ivanovich, but he knows who his biggest opponent is: "The target we want to eradicate is the Church of Truth. As long as we get rid of them, Mosk can recover at any time."
Last night, Mawei did not launch a general attack to get rid of the former army led by Duke Ivanovich and Duke of Tbilisi. This was because Archbishop Henry was not in the military camp. Except for Basil and a hundred other monks, there were no other soldiers in the camp. They are all ordinary soldiers. Killing them will not affect the overall situation.
Both the Church of Truth and the Church of Wisdom regard each other as their primary target. It is extremely foolish to waste energy on soldiers who cannot influence the overall situation.
"Your Excellency Archbishop, when will we start the war?" Duke Yinvanovich asked: "All the army has arrived and can launch an attack at any time."
"one day."
"What?"
"I said there is still one day." Through the window, Archbishop Henry looked at the outline of Tver City. "There is still one day, and the gods will come..."
Duke Yinvanovich didn't understand and carefully probed: "Do you mean that we will launch an attack again tomorrow?"
The prophesied day is coming, July 10th, is the day when the gods will descend, which is tomorrow.
According to common sense, Archbishop Henry should wait patiently for the gods to come. As long as Anatole, the god of wisdom, reappears in the world, they will have nothing to fear. Destroying the Church of Truth will be easy and effortless.
but....
The growth rate of the Truth Church not only makes Archbishop Henry a little worried. One day later in attacking, the Truth Church will have one more day to breathe, and their number of believers will also increase a lot.
Archbishop Henry, who could no longer control the development momentum of the Church of Truth, did not want to increase the risk. He clenched his scepter and said in a deep voice: "The decisive battle is today. We can no longer give them a chance to breathe. Duke Yinvanovich, assemble the troops. Get ready for war!"
"...as you command."
"Basil."
"Yes, Archbishop!"
"Inform Zorugin and Goffman that when the decisive battle begins, let them attack from behind to disrupt the rebel army's formation and create chaos."
"yes!"
"besides..."
Archbishop Henry stood up and walked to the window. He held a scepter in one hand and clasped his back behind his back with a cold voice: "When chaos occurs, let us place undercover agents in the army... to wait for an opportunity to assassinate Marvey Enders!"
"As long as we get rid of him..."
"The Church of Truth will be leaderless and turn into a piece of loose sand!"
