When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist

The mercenaries in the back row all turned their heads, only to find the drawbridge, their escape route, slowly rising.

"The bridge, look, the bridge is going up."

"We haven't gotten on the bridge yet, we haven't gotten on the bridge."

Some relentless mercenaries tried to leap from the shore to grab the edge of the drawbridge, but most jumped straight into the moat.

Even those who grabbed the edge of the drawbridge became easy targets for the Holy Gunmen.

As the moon gradually sank toward the western plains, the soldiers on the streets either fled or surrendered, stripped of their clothes and escorted to the dungeon.

Dismounting hastily from afar, Horn did not first check on Dane, whose neck was being pressed by the knees of two strong men, but rather on Kosse, lying supine on the ground.

The blood and wounds on his body were covered with linen gauze, but the wounds were almost unable to bleed anymore.

"Your Majesty, the Duke... has he been caught?"

Kneeling halfway to the ground, Horn grasped Kosse's hand, his voice extraordinarily dry, "Caught, you caught him yourself, he's right there."

"Your Majesty... do you think... Lena and Anna will... will blame me?"

"They are good children, you caught the culprit, they will certainly be proud of you."

"But the culprit... isn't fully caught... is he?"

From the end of the road, short Armand approached quickly, his eye bruised as if he had just collided with something, but as he came closer, he dared not approach.

"Armand... my... my child." Kosse reached out, trying to touch Armand's face, but his hand couldn't lift high.

Armand immediately leaned his head over, unlike Horn, he couldn't articulate clearly, "Papa Kosse, I'm here."

In the previous battle, Kosse was severely wounded, later trampled by a warhorse, breaking his thigh and spine, bleeding out by now, no longer savable.

"I'm sorry... actually... I always thought of you... cough cough... as my... biological son..."

"I know, I know, I am your biological son, you supported me to attend Church School, bribed the dean for my early release..."

"In fact... before Lena and... Anna... were born, I... I always wanted... a boy... but after my two little angels... were born... I felt it no longer mattered."

Holding Kosse's hand, tears from Armand's eyes couldn't be stopped, he didn't know how to respond.

"Armand, my child, have I given you a christening name?" Suddenly, Kosse's speech became fluent, his eyes shining.

"No, no."

"I previously spent 20 dinars with the bishop for a christening name, originally meant for my biological son... cough cough, but I give it to you."

"You say." Armand's voice trembled.

"Richelieu." Kosse glanced at Armand, then at Horn, "That name is Richelieu..."

"Okay." Armand wiped away the tears from his eyes, "From now on, I'm called Richelieu."

Kosse didn't reply, he stared blankly at the sky, smiled, and slowly closed his eyes.

Armand, no, Richelieu's cry flowed like a flood from his lungs to his mouth.

At that very moment, far away in the mountains, a shade of milky dawn white appeared.

The sun's golden wheel leapt from behind the mountains, dispelling a night of madness and bloodshed.

Dawn, has arrived.

With the golden morning light falling on each refugee's shoulders, their faces, everyone wounded, supporting each other, yet they dared not believe it.

Did they really defeat so many Extraordinary Knights? Did they really defeat the Duke? Did they really capture the entire Joan of Arc Castle?

The Blood Winter Rebellion, something that three hundred thousand peasants couldn't achieve, did they manage it?

Yet at this moment, they felt somewhat lost.

A few guards escorted Dane behind them, Horn strode forward, the black and red Salvation Banner already flying on the rooftop of the Joan of Arc Castle Church.

Through the windows of the citizens, Horn could vaguely see their blurred, peering faces.

Treading on the cobblestone surface of Citizen Road, it was the same street as before, yet no longer the same street.

When those refugees all gathered in the small square in front of the castle gate, those who couldn't see climbed onto rooftops, climbed trees, looking this way.

Dane's hands were tied, his pants soaking with excrement and urine.

Perhaps already knowing his death was certain, Dane cursed Horn all the way.

"Do you think everything will be fine once you kill me?"

"What about the Church and Prince Kongdai's army, they'll arrive in three days, and you'll all die, moumoumou—"

A rag was stuffed into the Duke's mouth, and he was kicked to kneel on the ground.

"Citizens..."

Facing thousands of eyes, Horn walked behind the Duke, placed his right foot on the Duke's back, but lost his voice halfway through speaking.

Most of the time, Horn knew what to say, but at this moment, he unusually stopped speaking.

He drew his Blood Covering Cloud, lightly strumming it.

"Ding—Zheng—"

After the crisp sound, Horn sniffed, not knowing whether he was smiling at himself or at the sword:

"You bastards, you really left me with a big problem."

Stepping on the Duke's shoulder blades, pressing his head deep into the mud, Horn raised the Blood Covering Cloud high: "Citizens..."

The Blood Covering Cloud reflected the newly risen morning rays, lightly swung down, and Horn effortlessly beheaded this creature from the east.

As easily as if the bloodstains all over the street emerged out of thin air.

Raising the Duke's head high, letting his terrified face bathe in the sunlight.

Though Horn tried his best to conceal it, his voice still carried a trace of sob he hadn't realized himself:

"The devil is vanquished!"

"We have won!"