Swift and Decisive

"Wh-what?!"

"I said no, you bastard. Then fuck off."

"W-wait!"

Slash!

He lopped off Remington's head in one stroke. The head rolled across the ground, but bizarrely, even after being severed from its body, the bastard kept yapping.

"You'll regret this. You think your gods will protect you forever?!"

"My gods are omnipotent. You'll be the one who falls."

"When all the gods are dead, I'll kill you in the most agonizing way possible!"

Splat!

He crushed the face underfoot. The surrounding soldiers' faces turned pale as ghosts. Now there was no escaping it. They'd be branded heretics without question.

I shouted to the soldiers around me.

"If you don't want to be treated as heretics, surrender! Your territories will be purified! The Pope and the Saintess are even here on the battlefield!"

"Ugh!"

"What do we do?"

"The Pope and Saintess..."

To be precise, Cecilia hadn't officially received the title of Saintess yet. But the Pope decided that, and the Pope was under me. Vivian had confirmed it herself. That was why the Pope's face looked like he'd eaten shit—he couldn't argue back against me. If he stuck his neck out, he might get branded a heretic too.

How convenient. Once you label them heretics, you can chop off all their heads.

In any case, I'd lived up to the gods' expectations. I'd ignored Odin's personal persuasion and sided with the gods. The rewards came right away.

Talk about generous. They were moved that I hadn't betrayed them and had completely smashed the champion. Handing out gifts like these must make even them dizzy. From observing the gods so far, creating shop vouchers or diamond-grade random boxes cost a ton of Karma. Plus, Temur gave a piece of his essence, and whatever this Primordial Mystery was, the gods gifted it too. I'd figure it out later.

I'd raked in about 2.5 million Karma this time—the highest ever. The gods must've gone wild.

Honestly, it wasn't bad for me either. Odin stepping up had given me perfect justification. Plenty of witnesses ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠too, so even if the Empire pressured me, I had the power to hold out. Hell, I almost wanted to thank Odin.

The soldiers milled about in confusion, unsure what to do. That's when Marquis Reston shouted.

"K-kill him! I'll personally grant a noble title to whoever kills him!"

Some soldiers and knights' eyes lit up. But the rank-and-file still hesitated. They feared the gods' curse if they fucked up here.

Looks like I had to wipe out their lords first.

Boom!

I stomped the ground and launched into the air. Not far off, I spotted the lords. Kill them, and the soldiers would crumble on their own. Thanks to Odin, this war would wrap up easy.

"St-stop him!"

The lords screamed. Conveniently, they'd clustered together. What idiots!

I slammed down with Thunder God's Fist.

Splat! Rumble!

"Gaaah!"

"Aaaagh!"

And the nobles were crushed. That was it.

"Now, let's really rampage."

Blaine territory army main camp. Troops were arrayed not far from the enemy lines. They'd witnessed the clash between Odin's champion and the lord. Or rather, it wasn't much of a clash. The champion got sent flying by the lord's blows, beaten senseless. Even after Odin possessed him, the lord boldly severed the champion's head.

After that, it was smooth sailing. The lord massacred the enemy command, soldiers panicked, the moat got filled with dirt in no time. The palisades? Smashed to bits, obviously.

Watching it all, Yorhan VI was stunned speechless.

"Odin's champion, just like that..."

"What's wrong, Your Holiness?"

"N-no, nothing."

He was rattled. Now he couldn't deny that Auron Blaine had been chosen by the gods. Vivian picking him made sense. Odin had even offered a divine throne, but he stood firm—and chopped off the head anyway. Odin's voice had boomed loud enough for 200,000 ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠soldiers to hear.

Kainus took the baton.

"Advance! Aid the lord and end this war! Remember, they'll soon be our soldiers too—show mercy, don't kill those who surrender!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Charge!"

"Waaaaah!"

100,000 Giant God tribe warriors surged forward like a wave. The Eastern Alliance soldiers floundered, and when surrounded, lost all will to fight.

They'd harped on heretics nonstop. Fighting here meant being a heretic, your whole family slaughtered—that declaration. With lords wiped out and Auron Blaine intercepting commanders, knights who didn't surrender got picked off one by one. Command collapsed, no real fight left.

Above all, Odin's champion had truly descended. One wrong move, and you'd be branded heretic, family massacred. They had no choice but to drop spears and kneel.

Knights too. Having seen this, there was no stopping Auron Blaine's army bent on "purification." It wasn't fabricated—they'd witnessed it firsthand. No countering that.

And even if they fought, no guarantee of victory. No, after seeing Auron Blaine's monstrous power, they knew defeat was certain. Anyone with battle experience could tell.

Whoosh!

Save for a few soldiers and knights, all knelt.

"We surrender!"

"We're not heretics! Mercy, please!"

"Those without will to resist will be spared!"

The battle wrapped in an instant. Odin might as well have handed me 100,000 troops. To wash away the heretic stain, they'd obey me no matter what.

Then the Pope ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠appeared, amplified by mages.

"Surrender to the holy lord, Count Auron Blaine, and eradicate the heretics! In the name of Yorhan VI, no sins will be held against you!"

"We pledge loyalty to Count Auron!"

"Accept us!"

Surrender led straight to oath-swearing. I'd rediscovered religion's power. Without it, would defection happen this fast? Doubtful.

In the end, swept by the mood, every soldier defected. Cheers erupted.

"Waaaaah!"

"Long live the Holy Lord!"

"Holy Lord, huh."

This war gave me a new nickname.

Reston Marquisate. Entering the main castle, we distributed alliance grain to each territory. With 100,000 defectors, I ballooned to 200,000 troops instantly. Absorbing them with minimal losses? All thanks to religion. Time to rule benevolently.

We looked less like occupiers. Leading with Pope, Saintess, priests—folk welcomed us without suspicion. Plus, we spread rumors right after victory: alliance lords allied with Odin, brutally exploited the people.

My "Holy Lord" moniker stuck solid.

Passing through the crowds, Sharel smirked.

"Holy Lord, why not smile and wave?"

"Ugh."

"Haha, she's right. Winning hearts matters now. Lose the populace, and occupiers get headaches."

No choice—I waved. Cheers swelled with every gesture.

Finally into the castle, I summoned my vassals and declared armistice.

"Mission accomplished for now."

"Ooooh!"

"The Empire's east is mine, Kainus!"

"Yes, my lord!"

"Dispatch troops to seize territories, slash taxes, abolish surcharges. Release grain."

"As you command. But what of proclaiming a nation?"

"Proclaiming a nation?"

I could push further, swallow a third of the Empire, declare independence. But necessary now?

"Advisor's thoughts?"

"In my view, too soon. Evidence of eastern nobles' heresy overflows. Squeezing folk dry, Odin's champion appearing—perfect proof."

"Expected Empire reaction?"

"They'll rage, but helpless. You're the hero purifying heretics, the Holy Lord. Rebel, and we'd have pretext to conquer the whole Empire."

"Oh ho!"

"Best to wait."

My thinking exactly. Without Odin's champion, I'd have steamrolled a third by force and declared. But evidence piled up, marking east as Odin's den. Excuse to relocate HQ too. Purge Odin's lair? All justified. Temporary governorship from Emperor? Smooth sailing. Then build army, territory, nation frame.

"Once war fully ends, we'll lay nation's foundation."

"We obey!"

Already, vassals emphasized they were my ministers.