The Heavens' Gate Opens
The elite warriors of the rebel army had gathered on the hillside facing east toward the fort. These were not ordinary troops—veterans rated at least grade five within the rebellion itself, a scarce handful among the upper echelon. As they gazed upon the enemy’s overwhelming host, a heavy tension gripped their hearts.
This looks truly overwhelming…
Among them, surely hundreds of warriors superior to us?
Well, we followed orders, but… what exactly does Commander Cromwell intend to do?
These were men who believed in their own skill, yet facing an overwhelmingly superior enemy force, stepping into the open like this naturally sparked fear.
Then.
Before them, at the forefront of those leaders, stood a figure in silver-white armor.
Edward Cromwell.
He slowly placed one hand over his chest and called out in a clear, steady voice.
“Almighty Lord of the heavenly hosts… I, Your humble servant, beseech You with all my heart.”
The sight of him praying to the heavens before battle was commonplace among paladins and even some generals. Nothing unusual in itself.
Yet.
“In the name of the All-Powerful, stretch out Your hand to the foolish ones who suppress freedom. Show that You live by breaking the chains of suffering souls.”
Flash!
“!”
“Eh?”
At the same moment the prayer ended, a dense emerald-green aura erupted from Cromwell’s body. The sacred power wave that had just washed away the lingering anxiety in their hearts—warm, yet unbearably intense—filled the air with a soothing comfort that made the battlefield feel like the embrace of a mother’s arms.
“T-this… what is this…?”
“This is holy magic… I’ve never experienced anything like it…”
Cromwell’s aura radiated not just surprise but something holy.
However.
The scene unfolding before their eyes began to stir emotions far deeper than mere astonishment within the warriors’ hearts.
“L-look at that!”
“That… can’t be…?”
The colossal aura released moments ago by Cromwell now enveloped the two hundred fighters present, forming a vast lake of power that seemed to surround them completely.
It condensed into several misty clumps, then reshaped into something resembling knights clad in silver-white armor.
Yet the subtle emerald glow emanating from their bodies and the snow-white wings sprouting from their backs made the soldiers realize at once who these beings were.
Angels.
Heavenly messengers that high-ranking clergy could materialize using auras. Soldiers among them had occasionally witnessed such summoned angels before, though rarely.
But this time, the scale and majesty of the angels before their eyes far surpassed the few they had seen summoned by a single cleric.
Centered on a four-winged Archangel, a staggering multitude of angels—hundreds upon hundreds—stood arrayed.
To ordinary high-ranking clergy, this was like a small candle; here it was like gazing upon the radiant sun suspended in the heavens, an awe-inspiring sight.
And as they watched.
In the rebels’ minds, one word surfaced automatically.
God’s Army.
The heavenly host described only in scattered passages of scripture and ancient records.
The fact that this legendary force now stood beside them ignited the dormant faith in their hearts, prompting them to whisper the name of God without realizing it.
Then.
Shrrrring!
With the sharp ring of swords drawn, the warriors snapped back to their senses. Gazing at their commander—who had unleashed this miracle and was still radiating an aura without end—Edward Cromwell spoke with a voice heavy with divine authority and power, as if directly conveying the voice of God.
Heaven's Gate
“Do not fear. His hand is with us! We will drive out these evil oppressors and raise the banner of freedom on this land!”
“Uwaaaaaaaaah!!!!”
The soldiers erupted into a thunderous cheer at Cromwell’s declaration. The fear and hesitation from moments ago had vanished completely from their hearts. What they felt now was nothing but burning joy and the unshakable certainty of victory.
With morale soaring like a spear thrust into the sky, Cromwell gave the order as commander.
“All units, advance!”
“Sweep the enemies away!”
“The Lord is with us!”
Simultaneously with his command, the two hundred rebels surged forward. At the same time, the hundreds of angels beside them marched resolutely toward the enemy with an aura of divine majesty.
Emitting a sacred emerald light, bathed in the rising morning sun.
*
The angelic host was rapidly closing in.
In the Imperial army positioned on the side, this situation—God’s army descending from the heavens with weapons drawn—left them paralyzed in deep panic.
“T-that… what the hell is that?”
“T-the… God’s Army?”
“No way! How could something like that side with the rebels…”
“Could they have sent it to punish us for our sins?”
“O-Oh God! I-I was wrong! It was just… just because those other bastards were looting, I followed…”
“I-I didn’t do anything wrong! T-there’s nothing worthy of divine punishment!”
“What nonsense! Have you already forgotten you stole my first love?”
“That’s because you weren’t good enough and Lily chose me…”
“S-shut up! Everyone, snap out of it and get into formation… ugh… ughh!”
Imperial soldiers, shocked by this unforeseen disaster, reacted in every possible way—some freezing in place, others shouting, still others even turning to flee. Even the officers who should have been controlling them stood rooted, their bodies iced over at the sight of the angelic host charging toward them.
These holy beings, who should have been symbols of victory if allied, were now rushing straight at them.
Ultimately, the Imperial forces missed the opportunity to respond in time to the terrifying charge of the enemy.
And the result.
The rebel army and the angelic host pierced straight through the Imperial formation without any hindrance and plunged into the enemy ranks.
*
Paladins were never renowned for raw combat power. As a max-level grade-10 user with full skills, I could plainly see that my pure offensive strength lagged behind that of a grade-7 ice mage like Franklin.
Of course, the ability to buff and heal entire legions gave us a tremendous advantage in large-scale battles, but the weakness of low personal firepower remained a clear drawback.
Yet at this very moment, I possessed a power that easily surpassed even the natural limits of a paladin.
The skill God’s Earthly Representative, which tripled the efficiency of all skills to four times their base value.
Right after activating it with the same high morale required to endure its grueling activation conditions, I unleashed the paladin’s ultimate attack skill.
Heaven’s Gate.
A skill that consumed massive holy power to summon a single high-order angel and the angelic host under its command. The grade of the summoned high-order angel depended on my paladin abilities, but in-game, my maximum had been one grade-6 Archangel and roughly a dozen subordinate low-grade angels.
Even that was already impressive, but against thousands of enemy troops, ten angels would barely register as a threat. Buffing allies with holy power would have been far more efficient in battle.
However, thanks to God’s Earthly Representative, the skill’s power had skyrocketed far beyond what I had anticipated.
Mathematically, four times the base strength meant summoning four grade-6 Archangels and forty subordinate angels.
But what appeared before my eyes was not four Archangels—
but something four tiers higher than anything I had ever read about, let alone seen summoned in-game.
Grade-2 angelic rank.
Overseeing a portion of the heavenly host, commanding hundreds of subordinate angelic legions—a division-level commander in military terms.
Grade-2 Archangel—Cherubim.
The armored figure, wings spread wide, brandishing a blazing sword in one hand wrapped in holy light, and the angelic host behind it.
Even just the number—several hundred—suffice to seize every eye on the battlefield.
An angelic army so magnificent it looked as though God’s host had literally descended from the heavens.
Even so, including all the human fighters present, we numbered fewer than five hundred. Yet their size—twice that of humans, complete with glowing wings—sent our morale soaring while visibly shattering the Imperial army’s.
Of course, these were not genuine divine descendents but temporary summons via aura, so their real combat power had limits. As true angels, they would not be easily defeated, but repeated physical damage or sustained magic bombardment would eventually destroy them. Their pure destructive force was not overwhelmingly superior either.
But the shockingly visual effects they displayed left the Imperial forces no room to make such judgments.
From the Imperial perspective—especially for ordinary soldiers lacking knowledge of this kind—the current situation must have appeared like absolute beings wielding weapons to punish them.
Overwhelmed by this fear, we, the rebels, and the angelic host charged forward like a single spear, piercing through the enemy line.
