The top of the great gate of the walled city of Garouamaria.

　The time is night, and its great mouth is now tightly closed, not to be opened to anyone until the morning bell rings. Robust and impenetrable, no one will be able to force it open. It has always been that way. Perhaps it will be tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow, maybe always. Everyone thinks so.

　The guards have lost their nerve. Can't it be time for a change soon, such a boring job. It's like being in a fish tank where the fish don't swim, and you're supposed to report when the bad guys come to steal the fish.

　This job has become a mere formality. What's the point of being a watchman? Just a waste of time and energy. The days of staring at the sky and staring at the stars continue.

　Annoyance and resentment at not being able to go out into the night pile up in the guards' hearts. Today, it's noisy in the poorhouse. In any case, they are probably making a fuss about trivial things again. They can't do anything anyway. Yes, I'll take my frustration out on them tomorrow. The guard raised his cheeks slightly.

　The guard raised his cheeks slightly.

　At the same time, there was a group of people living together near the Great Gate of Galuamaria, melting into the darkness.

　One girl, her long hair shaking, rolled her voice as if letting out a breath.

It seems that everything went well over there. I see, the hero was as good as expected.

　You'll be able to find a lot more than just a few of them in the marketplace.

　To be honest, I didn't have high hopes. I just bet a few gold coins on the hope that it would work. If it worked, good, of course. If it didn't work out, I'll just let the poor bastard rot in the crematorium. Whatever, as long as it doesn't end badly.

Yes, of course. If Lugis makes a mistake, it means that the premise of the world is wrong.

　The dark-haired girl beside me said this as if she were spinning a poem.

　I'm not sure what to make of it. For some reason, that man, the girl who was sent here from Lugis with Anne, Fialaat.

　He's a man with a good tongue and a good head. Mattia bites the edge of his lip slightly, thinking that it's not an honorable thing to send a hostage.

　I told her to send Anne back to me, but I didn't expect her to come with an extra.

　Mattia is a girl who hates it when things go against her wishes. It is not an exaggeration to say that she abhors it.

　She is convinced that her calculations are correct. They have faith in the knowledge and wisdom that they have accumulated within themselves. If, as a result, you are unable to reach your ideal, you should give up. But it is hard for me to accept that my calculations are off from the beginning.

"Rest assured, Saint Mattia. She will not interfere with us in any way. In particular, Lord Hero ...... will not, uh, defy Lord Lugis.

　I'm sure you've seen Mattia's concern, and Ann muttered something to appease him. She was also feeling guilty for having brought Fialaert with her.

　Raising her eyebrows for a moment to show that she still knew how to take care of herself, Mattia restrained Anne with her hand as if to tell her that everything was fine. And I have an undeniable trust in Anne. If she used her judgment to decide that there was no problem bringing her here, then there was no doubt about it.

　And I understand what she means by that.

　Look at the gleam in the eyes of the girl who called herself Fialaat. See the throbbing in her chest every time she whispers the name Lugis. The words you just said are like a love poem.

　But rather, Mattia's clever mind wavered, wondering if that was the root of his anxiety. I can't tell you how far Fialaert's feelings have gone. But feelings of adoration can sometimes lead to faith, which can lead to blindness.

　Mattia understood very well both the convenience and the danger of blindness caused by faith. Therefore, she could not accept Fialat outright.

　After all, it was no exaggeration to say that she herself had embraced the faith and was using it to her advantage.

　In front of Mattia's eyes, the warriors of the faith were waiting for her to speak. And yet, she seems to be calm, perhaps because of her experience on many battlefields and battlefields.

　Now is not the time to dwell on trivial matters.

　Wetting her pale lips, Mattia formulates her words with her tongue, as if she were saying a congratulatory prayer, but at the same time, as if she were sprinkling a curse on them.

"Once our god told us in our ignorance. I am only the bearer of all. Man, be wise. Suffer and decide for yourselves. That is the will of God.

　The voice seemed to penetrate the darkness and shine with light. The tone was solemn and quiet, echoing in his ears.

　The eyes and thoughts of the knights of the orderly line of heraldry, spears at the ready, became entangled in the words.

"Our Lord is the carrier. He is the bearer of all our fate. Hear if you have ears, see if your eyes are open. His blessing is in our hands, so the decision is in our will...

　A string of words spoken in a clear voice. But there was a beauty to it, like spinning a song. There was something stirring, something sweet and uplifting about it.



　I don't want to force my hand into your chest and scoop you up. I can see the rush of emotions bubbling up from the bottom of my heart.

　Fialat blinked her dark eyes and listened to her words with a certain interest. I see, these are the words of a saint. This is the kind of charisma that attracts people and lifts them up.

　When I think about it, there was a similarity in Held Stanley. People can't help but reach out their hands. Something that makes you feel compelled to kneel. That's what we call charisma, centripetal force, I guess.

　Yeah, but... Fialaert's cheeks crumpled as he savored the soothing sound. That's the one for me, after all. That tone is the best. The voice that once called him.

　Mattia's voice grows louder and louder as it rises in rank one by one.

"But look at that city of immorality!　They say that the Great Satan has trampled on our faith and our holy places, and that with his blind faith, he has left everything to God. The Lord said, when we sail into the sea, let us not be so foolish as to rely on God, but let everything be decided by our own will!

　The eyes of the girl who was called a saint flickered with faith.

　The doctrine of the Great Patriarchate is the surrender of all that is human to God. Man, who is evil by nature, has no will, but only hangs his head to God. That, they say, is true happiness, and the way for all men to attain bliss.

　Unacceptable. Such thoughts were unacceptable to Mattia. It was unacceptable to her, who considered her knowledge and her thoughts to be supreme. The words rushed through the darkness with a fever.

　The words are not only for heraldry. She superimposed her own will on the words, so that Mattia herself sank into a state of euphoria. Thought into faith, faith into fanaticism, fanaticism into violence. Weaving the spirit, rewriting the world.

　Before the words of the saint, Anne laced her fingers together in front of her chest. She laces her fingers together in front of her chest before the saint's words, to confirm her faith, to recognize that the coming conflict is in her hands.

"Raise the anchor!　The ship has sailed!　What is to come is not a holy war. By our will, by our deeds, let our hands be stained with the blood of paganism!　That is the divine will!

　----!

　In response to the saint's voice, and as if following it, a mass of voices emanated into the darkness with a steady pressure.

　The eyes no longer see anything but the image of her beloved Mary. There is a curse that cannot be lifted until it bends its knees and stomps its head. The dark gleam in her eyes spoke of it.

　With that, Mattia's spear was raised to the sky. It was like a prayer to the heavens, but also like a rebellion against the heavens. It was pointed straight up.

　A flash of light gushes from the tip of the spear.

　It is a wolfsbane to the other lurking in the city, a sign of resolve, and thus, a turning point in history.

　In the darkness, a ray of light running through the sky announced. A series of uprisings by the heraldic sects led to what is now called the Gospel Wars. That is, the start of the siege of the walled city of Galuamaria.