When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist

"You led 135 knights, that's 135 knights."

In the City Hall, Bamanda's unladylike voice echoed in the council chamber.

Staring incredulously at the 13 knights before her, Bamanda no longer showed any noble demeanor: "In the great Blood Winter uprising, we only dispatched 900 Extraordinary Knights and defeated 100,000 peasants! You're facing only 10,000! Can't 135 knights handle them?"

The knights looked at each other, one of the older knights braced himself and stepped forward: "My esteemed Duchess, they somehow severed the long bridge, and seventy of our knights fell into the river."

At the Joan of Arc Castle Canal, for the ease of passing ships, the long bridge was suspended between two piers with thick iron chains.

The iron chains were only slightly thinner than an adult's thigh, and there were more than one of them, who could have thought someone could sever them in such a short time.

In fact, this tactic was proposed by Jeanne, as Knight Sifal and Danji's notes revealed to her, knights instinctively charge forward when they've taken the potion.

Not only because potions have a time limit, but most of these potions also have stimulant effects.

Throughout the Empire's history, the knights' reckless charges have been the commanders' greatest challenge.

Next to the old knight, a young knight added, "Our knights, in heavy armor, were not as agile in the water as those boatmen and fishermen, who repeatedly harassed us, stabbing us with harpoons and daggers.

Even if we managed to get ashore in heavy armor, the Witch would strike us with lightning, killing many powerful knights."

As if performing a duet, another knight spoke before Bamanda could respond: "Their methods were utterly ruthless, surrendering knights received no treatment worthy of their honor.

After being stripped of their armor, our knights were randomly beaten and humiliated by the mob, and seven or eight were beaten to death."

"Then, in that case, you should have only lost 100 knights, where are the other 22 knights?"

"Some attempted to charge the mob and support their allies, only to be struck down by lightning rods, while others...suddenly disappeared...cough..."

The old knight did not make it clear, the number of knights who mysteriously disappeared was ten times those struck down by lightning rods.

Moonlight shone on her profile, sweat from Bamanda's make-up left streaks across her face, at this point, she no longer cared for noble decorum.

After pacing around the room several times, Bamanda sat back at the table, forcing herself to remain calm: "It's fine, my dear husband still has 35 knights, with you, we have nearly fifty knights.

We have mercenaries, and 1,200 Night Guards, those mobs have suffered heavy casualties as well, as long as our dear initiates the attack, everything will be okay."

The old knight took a deep breath and glanced at the young knight beside him: "Madam, the Duke, the Duke said he doesn't have enough troops, he's heading towards the castle..."

"You, say that again, are you saying he abandoned the Citizen Road's defense?!"

Jumping up from her chair, Bamanda's heaving chest even burst a button on her blouse, utterly abandoning her previous noble demeanor.

After receiving a confirmed answer, she fell silent.

Staring at the table in front of her, Bamanda felt dizzy, how could it be? How could it be?

That was just 10,000 peasants, a hundred Extraordinary Knights should have been enough to drive them off and suppress them, let alone they also had over 2,000 infantry!

Setting up a second line of defense on the broad roads of Citizen Road to block them wouldn't necessarily lead to defeat, and even if they lost, there was still the castle as a third line of defense.

Why retreat directly to the third line of defense?

"Ah—" she screamed, using the feather fan in her hand to violently sweep the vase and documents off the table onto the ground, "Stupid! Cowardly! Swine! Idiot! Low intelligence! No spirit! Brainless! Responding like this is moronic!"

The vase, dishes, and other decorations on the table were swept to the floor and shattered, Bamanda's hair stood on end, her veil lifted, gasping for breath as she braced herself against the table.

"What about those secret troops outside the city? Have them get here quickly." Zandebeck held Bamanda by the shoulder, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it would leap out of his throat.

The old knight stepped forward and whispered: "The secret troops have been running at a loss for years; three years ago, the Duke, under the guise of optimizing finances, sold them to Catherine of Rapids City.

The 100 infantrymen outside the city are there just for show, doing little of significance, our real secret troops are the 3,700 soldiers led by Bishop Banifus and the 8,200 knights and soldiers led by Prince Kongdai."

"How soon will they arrive?"

"About, two to three days."

Zandebeck's throat was so dry he couldn't even swallow a drop of spit; he was the one who orchestrated all previous tax collections.

In the rumors among the refugees, it was he who had the Duke order the lockdown of water and land checkpoints, trapping the refugees near Joan of Arc Castle.

Others might manage to escape, but he knew full well the deeds he'd done.

"What do we do about this? What do we do?"

Watching Zandebeck collapse to the ground, Bamanda suddenly awoke: "Have even the mercenaries fled? Where is that fool Dane now?"

"Most of the mercenaries have fled, and mobs are pouring in from all directions; the Duke said, please depart as soon as possible..."

"Then what are we still doing here?" Calm now, Bamanda immediately circled the table, yelling at them while running towards the door, "You should have mentioned this as soon as you came in!"

But the knights remained motionless, their faces troubled, as if they hadn't heard.

"What's wrong? Move!" At the door, with the handle in hand, Bamanda glanced back at the knights, a bad premonition rising within.

"Madam, honestly, we are already surrounded." The elderly knight awkwardly opened the City Hall window, the moon had already set towards the west, but it couldn't block the tidal waves of firelight surrounding the City Hall.

The sound of clockwork guns thumped from afar, drawing closer. Without the knights to restrain them, the Holy Gunmen hid behind the Long Spearmen, wantonly creating gaps in the mercenaries' formations.

Once the Extraordinary Knights fled, the mercenaries' morale plummeted to the bottom.

If even the Extraordinary Knights ran away, what fight was left for them?

The well-equipped mercenaries retreated hastily, pressed inward by the ragged mobs surging from all sides.

No matter how their leaders and captains shouted, they couldn't redirect their charge—behind the rest.

"Drop your weapons!"

"Kneel and you'll be spared!"

On the square in front of the City Hall, countless farmers with black cloth tied around their heads or arms were shouting.

The sea of black people accompanied by furious roars.

Countless heads, countless formations, footsteps strong enough to shake the dust off the eaves.

Lances stabbed through the crowd, the black and red banner of Salvation waving in the wind raised by torches.

Carrying the Salvation Banner, Armand struggled to climb atop a Monastery wall and plant the flag.

"The Duke is in the City Hall!" he shouted, pointing towards the City Hall.

Moonlight dyed a blood-red by the torches, mercenaries fell continuously in the iron sandstorm, wailing endlessly in pools of blood.

On the original cobblestones, blood flowed along the crevices until it gradually solidified into black.

At this point, only thirty yards remained between the outermost mercenaries and the City Hall gates.

Realizing this, Bamanda nearly fainted.

Machine-gun-like impacts came through the window, making the knights shiver and duck.

Once realizing that devil's weapon only hit the window, these knights, either attendants or elite flag bearers, sheepishly stood up.

"The secret passage, it connects to the castle, the City Hall is to be consumed, outside!" Seeing the Salvation Army arrive, even Bamanda, who yelled sacrifice for fifty thousand farmers, stammered, questioning the elderly knight.

The elderly knight said nothing, only looking at Bamanda awkwardly: "Respectable madam, I mean no disrespect, but forgive me, to relay these terrifying devil reports out... forgive my rudeness!"

"What are you doing? I'm here to command! Let me go!"

......

The castle-top eagle opened its eyes, its curiosity piqued as it poked its head out, the firelight reflected clearly in its sharp eyes.

The streets and alleys of Joan of Arc Castle were filled with the heavy scent of burning pine resin.

The giant snake formed by torches was surging bit by bit from all directions towards the Duke's Castle in the center of Joan of Arc Castle.

Before these ragged mobs, the well-equipped mercenaries instead retreated step by step.

Under the fluttering Salvation Banner, Horn was followed by Jeska and Madlan, behind whom were soldiers clad in black cloaks.

In orderly chaos, countless mobs advanced towards the castle and City Hall.

And from their mouths, songs of resistance emerged that the citizens had never heard.

"Move over here, move over there, where can the poor man find refuge."

"Pressed by hunger and cold, like donkeys and mules, there's nowhere to hide without slaying demons!"

"Which are the devils? Which are the demons?"

"Knights are devils! Priests are demons!"

"With sword in hand, follow me, slaughter the demons, never look back!"

In everyone's sight the spire of the Duke's Castle came into view.