Chapter 62: The War Begins
War preparations were already nearly complete. It just took time to assemble 100,000 troops in one place and stockpile supplies. Eventually, the 100,000-strong army gathered, followed by countless wagons.
The supply unit could be kept to just 10,000 thanks to the special wagons crafted by the dwarves. Wind spirits pulled some of them, and the short supply lines helped too.
These 100,000 weren't just for fighting the war—they could occupy and hold territory just as well. The giant warriors gazed at me with eyes full of anticipation.
And it wasn't just them. The gods were starting to get excited too.
Something eventful would be nice, but who knows. In this situation, the possible events are pretty limited. We're already waging war after branding them heretics.
I climbed onto a rock and addressed the troops.
"No religion should ever exploit its people—that's a hard rule. But what are they doing? Breaking that taboo and bleeding the people dry. If that's not proof of heresy, what is?!"
"Ooooh!"
The giant warriors roared in agreement. They were a plundering folk, but they'd been somewhat civilized now, and the locals in occupied lands were their people too. They cheered wildly. Above all, they were thrilled at the prospect of battle itself. No wonder they were battle maniacs.
"Advance! Crush the enemy as we go!"
"Waaaaah!"
The 100,000 troops surged forward as one.
The capital of the Kallias Empire, Brontia. On its outskirts stood the Vivian Church's main headquarters.
Lately, many in the empire were voicing concerns about Count Aron's movements. Absorbing 1.5 million giants was threat enough. He'd have subdued those warriors by force, but it spelled major rebellion in the empire's east for sure.
In this tense atmosphere, a letter arrived from Pope Yorhan 6th.
"This now...?"
"It's an order from His Holiness the religious leader."
"An order!"
It was absurd. Goddess Vivian had only ever mentioned Aron as a religious leader—no further details. The pope wasn't sure if this leader outranked him. And the letter's contents were downright radical.
[...Thus, in response to petitions from the devout faithful, the army of God shall march forth. However, once this purge is complete, the church cannot escape the empire's blade. Therefore, I command the headquarters to relocate to Blaine territory.]
"Should we obey this or not?"
"It's an order from the leader acknowledged by Lady Vivian herself. Disobey, and Your Holiness will be branded a heretic too."
"Are you threatening me right now?!"
"It's simply the truth..."
Pope Yorhan 6th's beard quivered. He'd never suffered such humiliation. Popes didn't even bow to emperors. Yet here was some upstart bonehead declaring himself religious leader and issuing threats.
He couldn't wrap his head around it.
"I refuse!"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes! I refuse!"
"Hm, perhaps pray on it first before refusing?"
"Pray? You think it's possible to suddenly abandon the thousand-year holy city of Brontia?"
"It's all for the greater good."
Sir Adel, envoy from Count Blaine, had just been appointed the territory's 2nd Knight Order Captain. Soon, the Blaine Kingdom would form, and he'd snag a spot as Royal Guard Captain or central command.
Failure here? Count Aron, who valued competence, wouldn't stand for it. Threaten, use force—he'd drag the pope back if needed.
The nearby holy knights were a concern. But Adel wasn't ordinary either. Strike now...?
The Royal Holy Knights number three. I'm alone. But a surprise attack...
As he steeled himself—
Shwaaaa!
The sky split, light descending. Everyone, pope included, knew what it was. They'd experienced it once before. The pope knelt; holy knights followed suit. Sensing the gravity, Adel knelt too.
My faithful servant, Yorhan!
"I-I see the Goddess!"
The pope's face was dazed. Was this truly her will? Why?!
The goddess's words flowed.
The religious leader Aron Blaine outranks you. He is the one chosen by the gods as the great warrior. The only one who can utterly eradicate Odin's dogs. Why defy him?
"F-Forgive me! I'll correct it!"
I'll be watching!
"Of course!"
Shwaaaa!
The crushing pressure lifted. Pope Yorhan 6th was drenched in cold sweat. He'd nearly faced divine punishment. Defying a goddess meant no excuses—she could've executed him on the spot for challenging the gods' hierarchy.
Is Aron Blaine truly the gods' chosen great warrior?
And he outranked Yorhan. People called Aron mad, but the gods backed him.
In the end, Yorhan yielded.
"I'll issue the orders at once."
"Your Holiness should depart immediately."
"But we need some justification, don't we?"
"Purging heretics is justification enough. Our lord truly raised the army to purge heretics."
"Heh heh heh."
It sounded like utter nonsense. But with an oracle involved, calling it nonsense meant abdicating his position. And that wouldn't end well—divine retribution would follow, straight to the deepest Avici Hell.
Yorhan shuddered. The world was shifting.
"Let's go!"
"Right away. We can fly there in a day."
"F-Fly?"
"Yes! An airplane is parked nearby."
"......"
What nonsense was this? Yorhan couldn't comprehend.
An hour later, he'd hastily wrapped up and set out. Moving the entire headquarters wasn't easy. To dodge imperial backlash, they'd claim it was for purification ops. But it'd be a full relocation.
Nearby stood a bizarre craft that soon took off.
"Uwaaaaaah!"
"Hahaha! What's wrong?"
"A-Are we flying right now?!"
"As you can see."
"H-How is this possible?"
"Is there anything impossible for our lord, blessed by the gods?"
"......"
This knight kept invoking the gods. But what else explained airplanes? Even a war-ignorant pope could predict they'd rewrite military history.
Marching wasn't hard. Plans were set; past the territory, they'd hit the enemy. Supplies were simple. Wars with neighbors weren't random—distant ones meant supply nightmares. Armies devoured gold, consuming without producing. That's why soldiers got fiefs: tenants farmed while they trained. True creative economy.
"My lord! The enemy's main camp is in sight!"
"Sir Adel, whom we sent to the capital, is approaching!"
"Oh ho, really?"
Scouts reported. From the hilltop, the enemy formed a defensive line. They couldn't let 100,000 flood in, so they'd piled crude stockades.
They planned to hunker down.
"What a pathetic stockade."
"It won't stop your charge, my lord."
Kainus summed it up.
100,000 vs. 100,000. Moats before stockades, siege weapons arrayed. Impressive prep in short time. A pure giant charge might've taken heavy losses.
But with me? Those flimsy barriers would crumble instantly.
"Just charge and wipe 'em out."
"Heh heh heh, spot on."
Even Kainus, the strategist, saw no need for tricks. Time to test our new power— I'd end it personally. Wiping 100,000 solo was too much, so giants as backup.
As the "strategy meeting" wrapped, an airplane landed. Out stumbled a half-dazed Pope Yorhan 6th.
"Sir Adel, good work."
"Sir! Mission complete—returning to base!"
"Rest up."
"Yes, sir!"
I faced the pope. He bowed slightly.
"I see you, Leader."
"Hm, so you acknowledge me as superior now?"
"...Lady Vivian's oracle."
"What oracle?"
"That you outrank me..."
"Really?"
"Y-Yes."
"Heh heh heh, for real?"
"Y-Yes."
The pope trembled uneasily. He'd endured my harsh "education" before. Memories still chilled him. Yet the goddess backed me. Must drive him mad.
"Then I can drop the formalities, right?"
"Y-Yes. You're the one leading our church. With a direct line to Lady Vivian, no less."
Cold sweat beaded on his face. I commanded:
"The pope marches with me."
"M-March?!"
"You're here—might as well. Treat the wounded from the rear."
"Ah... Yes."
My sudden shift. The pope's face twisted like he'd swallowed dog shit.