Why Did You Summon Me?

“Are we dealing with a different breed of zombies today? For some reason, they are more organized and disciplined this time. I thought that the persistent explosions would have caused them to panic!” The Archmage said, watching the believers organize their ranks, preparing for another attack.

“Hey, now. You don’t really think that they are zombies, do you?” The Soul Armature Practitioner replied. Watching the believers advance with renewed vigor, he took a few red balls out of his pocket and thought, ‘Which little beastie wants some fresh air today?’

The Soul Armature Practitioner wondered if he ought to choose an oversized tortoise with a Super Mario pipe attached to its shell¹, a shuriken-wielding frog that cosplayed as a ninja, ²or the godly white horse ³to complement the religious theme of the war.

Before a choice could be made, he realized that the believers were avoiding the area of the city wall under his protection. In fact, they stayed within the boundary of the Holy Light and attacked the city with ranged weapons like bows and catapults. This made them greatly resembled protesters. Far from looking like a war, they were more like protestors on the street.

“The Second Walker’s area is being targeted the most,” He said.

The memory of the previous day’s battle was still fresh in the mind of the Voidwalkers; even now, no one knew why the Second Walker had refused to cooperate. If the powerful Voidwalker continued to do nothing, Arfin City’s eastern gate would be in hot water!

“The Warrior Walkers’s situation is also dire. For some reason, the Engineer Walker’s side and our side have it less troublesome,” the Archmage replied. A believer was accidentally pushed out of the Holy Light’s boundary, and before anyone could do anything about it, the Archmage pointed at the believer, causing him to instantly explode, spraying the ground with guts and blood.

“I don’t think that would work,” the Soul Armature Practitioner said.

He knew what the Archmage intended to achieve with this tactic; the old man wished to pressure the invaders psychologically by slaying them in horrifying manners. If the invaders gave in to fear, their situation would take a turn for the worse. If that happened, the Archmage could send the Soul Armature Practitioner to back up other gates while he handled the enemies alone.

For some reason, though, the believers knew no fear today, leaving nothing for the Voidwalkers to capitalize on.

The Voidwalkers realized that it was best for those facing lesser pressure to save their power, to help the more troubled Voidwalkers. The Archmage and Engineer Walker intended to do this, but although they were not being attacked by a lot of invaders, there was a large group of invaders standing far away, waiting for the smallest of slipups from the Archmage’s team. One did not need to be a genius to know that this group of believers was waiting for the Engineer Walker and Archmage to split up, and if that happened, they would charge over instantly!

The Voidwalkers knew the meat of the enemies’ plan, but they were helpless, as they simply did not have enough people on their side to do anything about it. This showed that even the weak could use numbers to overwhelm the strong; this tactic may seem flashy, but it worked.

“Sir Engineer Walker,” the Archmage said, “Does he have any power to spare?”

“He sent the Tarantula to help them and used his other toys to help his team. The Blacksmith Walker’s bombardiers are doing their best to relieve the pressure, but there are just too few of them to keep up. The reinforcements just aren’t enough!” The Soul Armature Practitioner replied.

“Send every one we can spare to the northern gate,” the Archmage ordered. “That team has terrains and a sturdy wall to alleviate the pressure they are facing, but only Warrior Walker is there to take the burden. Her team consists of fairies and barbarians — races that aren’t known to be resilient. If the enemies keep throwing bodies at that gate, it will surely fall!”

As for the eastern gate, whose wall was the shortest — although it was being was targeted by a lot of invaders, the Cleric Walker and his superb theurgical skills were there to support that team; hence, the team suffered only a few casualties. Furthermore, the Caveman Walker and Paladin Walker — two very powerful brawlers — could not die and could keep fighting forever.

This was why the enemies focused their attention on the northern gate, whose team included fairies and humans. Since this team did not have the Cleric Walker in their ranks to heal them without end, they were steadily getting injured. If that continued, the team would end up losing a lot of teammates, and the northern gate would collapse.

“It looks like we don’t have any option but to reveal our trump cards now,” the Archmage said, a tinge of regret evident in his voice. “They were supposed to be used on the angels…”

So far, despite facing ten million enemies with a team many times fewer than that, the Voidwalkers, who were at a disadvantage, had yet to reveal their trump cards. They did not wish to use them so soon, as their enemies had yet to reveal their hands. If the Voidwalkers continued to utilize schemes, the angels would then reveal their true powers and — as no one knew when Baiyi would return — the Voidwalkers would end up losing.

The soldiers dispatched by the Northern Duke were doing their best to support the barbarians in fending off countless assaults. The difficulty of the current battle could not be compared to that of the previous day’s battle. In the previous day’s battle, the believers did not use siege weapons, so they were greatly deterred by the great height of the northern wall. Unfortunately, they had come with siege weapons today, to the dismay of those guarding the northern gate.

“Do not overexert yourselves; take turns fighting! Assist and cover your partner when it’s your turn as their support!” The Warrior Walker shouted. Her fists were blazing in bright azure flames as she decimated every foe foolish enough to come close.

The Warrior Walker knew the limitations of the Northern fighting style. Due to their different utilization of combat chi control, barbarians could be easily beset by their poor endurance during a drawn-out battle. Combined that with the barbarians’ cultural propensity to recklessly charge into the fray, it was no wonder that the steely beauty had to continually remind her flock about their agreed strategy.

Fortunately, under her supervision and guidance, the barbarians were able to maintain their focus. Recalling their master’s lessons during the intensive training camp a few days ago, the warriors applied themselves in moderation and held the defense line. They reigned in their impulse to throw themselves into the fight and took turns to rest and support their partners in combat.

The Warrior Walker turned to the silver-haired fairy and ordered, “Nydore. Do not use that bow.”

The Caudillo Butterfly bow’s power comes at a dangerous price, and it was for the young fairy’s good to not use it frivolously. Unfortunately, this meant that the girl had to work with the more inferior longbow, which inflicted less damage to the believers blessed by the Holy Light. That was despite her using the fairies’ ancestral technique, Astra, of shooting a stream of arrows continuously at an inhuman speed.

As a tiny stream of blood ribboned down one of the Gale Snipers’ hand, he drew his bow and bemoaned loudly, “Is Mr. Bear really not going to help us?”

“Mr. Bear’s power shouldn’t be wasted on this,” Nydore answered sharply, wiping away her blood from her blistered fingers discreetly. Shooting arrows quickly without rest through a taut bowstring had caused Nydore more injuries than her brethren’s.

While everyone’s attention was drowned in the chaos of the invasion, nobody noticed Laeticia’s quiet appearance near the northern gate. Silently, she took in the devastating sight of piles of corpses, her distressed friends and allies, and their struggle to push back their foes from breaching the city.

She hesitated, as though vacillating between choices.

“Haven’t made up your mind?”

“Professor Sonia?” Laeticia let out a soft yelp in disbelief as she turned. The Shadow Walker had snuck behind her while the girl was lost in her thoughts. It was also the first time the girl had ever seen this infamously disgraced papal candidate.

“Regardless of your reluctance, I’ve made my decision,” the Shadow Walker said. “I have no illusion about the weakness of my power. I can’t even cast the simplest, useful theurgical spell, but there must be something I can help.”

“You can’t?” Laeticia was startled. How could the disciplined, levelheaded holy woman be denied of theurgical abilities when people who had fallen to shameless indulgences, such as Professor Hantai and Father Joel, could still use the most God’s most powerful spells?

“Unlike those two, I’ve turned my back from my faith. Or perhaps more accurately, I’ve pledged my devotion to a different subject. Unfortunately, it appears that my piety is still too impotent,” the Shadow Walker explained, holding out her palm to display a frail lick of black flame. It looked similar to Baiyi’s trademark Void Flames, but hers was so weak that it could not even light up a stalk of dry hay.

“Look at it,” she said, bringing the flame closer to Laeticia’s face. “Isn’t it disgusting? Does it compel you to retch at its wickedness?”

The fire’s warmth quickly reached her, its glow illuminating the confusion on her face. She shook her head. “I.. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. I respect that you chose this, but I… I…”

“Then I pray that you may come across the choice your heart desires.”

The elusive woman joined the bloodbath ahead. Alone, Laeticia extended her hand and stared at her gleaming reflection from her silver-white gauntlet as her other hand instinctively reached her Scripture necklace. “My… choice?” She breathed.

She raised the holy flag and whispered her prayer softly. It would be the last time she ever prayed.

“Alone I tread the lightless path, to the defiled land where evil thrived under His absence. I pray for the darkness to dispel, and the earth to be saved by an act of sacrifice. God, I pray to You; use me as your instrument of light, so that I may punish evil and save the innocent in your stead — ”

She stopped right before the name of the spell. When she spoke again, her voice was trembling with tearful determination. “God, forgive me.”

A pair of enormous wings woven from the softest light illuminated the sky above Arfin. Far from being imposing or flashy, the mirage emanated a warm, white glow beatifically cradling every being in the city as an encompassing sense of equanimity bloomed in their hearts.

The mirage was not the slightest bit as dominating as the Angels’ Holy Light. It gently roused the believers from their mindless trance to seize and conquer. In reverence, they knelt in obeisance while their golden armors melted away in its immaculate glow.

The longer one studied it, the more the wings resembled a pair of loving hands caressing the mortals’ tormented, tired souls. Sometimes, they looked like the hands of a holy woman, whose sincere prayer to God for forgiveness had been answered.

“That is the sign of our Highest Lord’s mercy. His purest believer had made her last prayer!” Archangel Paimon said, stunned at the miracle in Arfin. “How incredible that we found His beloved in a land enveloped by darkness, among heretics such as the two blasphemous apostates, who continue to deconsecrate His powers after turning their back…”

“Incredible as it may, Paimon, we’re witnessing a holy woman’s last prayer,” Archangel Baal said with a tinge of regret. It was as though he was sad about the fate that awaited her. There could only be two possible reasons why a pious believer made their last prayer. Their time on earth had come to an end, or their devotion to God had ceased!

“Kimaris! Find His beloved mortal whom our Highest Lord had mercifully forgiven,” Paimon said to another angel. “Carry out His wish by granting her Salvation.”

Every believer dreamed of entering the kingdom in heaven after they died. So, it was only fitting that God’s most merciful act was to guarantee their entry.