The infinite sword system has been mastered, and you say this is the dragon clan?

Chapter 364 Holy crap, Sky City!
"...Kissing on the battlefield?"

Tobin carefully imagined the scene: Ogier, full of vigor and confidence, wielding the Blade of Mercy, was instantly defeated by an enemy whose skill far surpassed his own before the enemy could even glance at him. Then, nearly dying, Ogier revealed his lifelong strong, tenacious, and unyielding knightly character, struggling to raise his head and ask who this newcomer was...

However, the visitor did not answer, but simply embraced the beautiful woman and whispered sweet nothings to her. Blinded by the sight of the despicable couple, Ogier collapsed and died in a complex mix of grief, anger, and frustration.

Thinking about this, Tobin suddenly felt a sense of empathy. The situation on the other side was even more terrifying than that love-struck Bradamante, enough to deal a critical hit of 10,000 points to each of the single paladins.

So Tobin shook his head and sighed softly.

“Ogier, you deserved to lose. Roland, you need to be careful too.”

Because he suddenly remembered that the most famous paladin, Roland, had also been troubled by love for a long time, and even showed signs of going crazy for love, to the point of doing all sorts of absurd feats such as crying and making a scene, and running naked in public.

Unfortunately, Roland possessed immense strength, forcing Astolfo and the other paladins to join forces to stop him.

This event is also recorded in "The Madness of Roland".

"Huh??" Roland had intended to warn Archbishop Tobin about the danger of the enemy, but unexpectedly, he was reminded of it by this violent mage instead.

And... why did Tobin look at me with such a pitiful expression? What did he mean?
"Hey, what's with that look you're giving me! I came here specifically to warn you to be careful of a troublesome enemy. They might very well be the Chaldeans from outer space that His Majesty mentioned!"

Roland patted the archbishop on the shoulder without making it obvious.

"Oh, I mean... this is truly an evil force!"

The skilled Tobin immediately dodged Roland's powerful strike. Despite wearing a white priest's robe over his heavy armor, it did not hinder his agility in the slightest. "Chaldea, is it? In accordance with His Majesty's will, we paladins will surely punish them in the name of justice!"

Tobin's frivolous expression visibly transformed into righteous indignation, as if he had instantly become Chaldea's mortal enemy. Roland was caught off guard by the speed of this change, secretly thinking that this violent mage truly lived up to his mentor Merlin's style, possessing a maxed-out talent for deception and performance…

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Meanwhile, Roland's good brother, Olivier, was about to enter Charlemagne's palace. This place had been transformed into the Aachen City Hall in later generations, but after Charlemagne occupied it, it still retained the palace architecture in the style of the Carolingian dynasty.

Sunlight filters through the gaps between the ancient, solid stone pillars, illuminating the Romanesque and Ravenna-style architectural interiors. From a distance, one can faintly see the magnificent colors and hear the sacred chanting.

Having been away from the Holy City for a while, the religious atmosphere in Aachen seems to have grown stronger under His Majesty's deliberate guidance.

On the way back to the city, he noticed that there were more and more pointed or domed religious buildings along the way, and that these buildings appeared more frequently the closer one got to His Majesty's palace. Some of them were even still under construction.

At first glance, some buildings are pointed bell towers, others are hexagonal atriums and Gothic choirs. Exquisite mosaic decorations cover the magnificent exterior halls, and golden patterns reflect the light in the daylight. The buildings are connected by cloisters with delicate patterns. In addition, there are columns and railings, church altars, gilded pulpits inlaid with jewels, and so on...

The scale of such a construction project would have been staggering in the Middle Ages, but under the emperor's command, it became an easily achievable undertaking.

Oliver knew that Archbishop Tobin, who was a Caster, and other paladins skilled in magic, such as Malagiji, were probably involved.

Meanwhile, the laborers involved in the construction worked tirelessly on the construction site, doing heavy work such as moving stones and materials. Under the strong influence of the religious atmosphere, their faces were filled with piety, and their posture was almost no different from that of the "heroic soldiers" who charged into battle on the front lines.

This is His Majesty's "Assimilation of the Voice of Heaven"!
Oliver was filled with admiration. What an efficient means of conquest, what a simple and clear order!

Your Majesty, bathed in the glory of the Lord, under a powerful call, sets the tone for all people in society, weaves together political and religious principles, defines good and evil, love and hate, so that all people know that Your Majesty is destined to be the only manifestation of God on earth, know that all who follow this order and contribute value can ascend to heaven, know that the truth of life and death is ultimately nothing more than the slumber of the body, and that slumber is the harbinger of spiritual awakening and happiness!
Unfortunately, this beautiful vision is ultimately fraught with obstacles, and Chaldea may be the biggest stumbling block on His Majesty's path to achieving this grand ambition.

His Majesty must be informed of the threat posed by this matter as soon as possible.

As Oliver walked along the steps of the pristine white imperial palace, he unconsciously slowed his pace.

To ensure the timely delivery of news and reports from Chaldea, he had already informed the Holy Capital in advance of the potential appearance of this formidable enemy via remote means. After handing over other tasks, he hurried back. After all, some things wouldn't seem formal enough without explaining them in person.

Unfortunately, he manifested as Saber, rather than as a Rider with a fantasy mount like Astolfo. Otherwise, there would be no need to worry about the difference between sending a letter in advance and reporting in person, since traveling would not take much time with the help of a mount anyway.

"Has Lord Oliver returned? The war has been tough."

As Oliver stepped into Charlemagne's palace, he heard sounds coming from inside.

“I am only being loyal to His Majesty, so why should I complain about the hardships? I have heard that His Majesty sits on the throne, working day and night to manage state affairs and harmonize the rhythms of the people, never able to leave for a moment. That is what you call hard work.” Oliver quickly walked in, gave a knightly salute, and showed a very humble attitude.

"Haha, Lord Olivier is indeed as wise and brave as ever, humble and polite as ever." Charlemagne teased, but his tone still carried a lot of weight, and his face was as dignified as ever. Otherwise, Roland would not have changed his personality and become serious when serving His Majesty, and Astolfo would not have been unable to bear the various tasks and ran away directly.

"After this mission was completed, was there any investigation into Lord Astolfo's whereabouts?"

To Olivier's surprise, Charlemagne's first question wasn't about Chaldea, but about his most hated colleague.

Yes, Oliver really hates Astolfo.

More precisely, the two of them were completely incompatible.

Oliver was a close friend of Roland, the first paladin in history. He was characterized by his extraordinary calmness and wisdom. He was exceptionally capable, loyal, and brave. Even Charlemagne would entrust him with the most difficult and troublesome problems.

Oliver's philosophy is "there's no need to draw your sword if it can be solved without it," meaning he tries to resolve problems using non-combat methods whenever possible, a stark contrast to the reckless Roland.

But the real opposite of this highly rational paladin is Astolfo, who has no rationality whatsoever and acts solely on emotion, doing whatever he feels like.

Since appearing in the mortal realm, even though Astolfo has accepted His Majesty's assimilation of the divine voice, he is still affected by the "evaporation of reason" and acts willfully, refusing to cooperate and even causing trouble during missions. Recently, he even ran away, which deepened Olivier's disgust. Olivier frowned and said, "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, Astolfo said he was escorting Bishop Pierre and assisting him in governing Bordeaux, but apart from the first day, he has not shown up since."

In other words, this foolish paladin probably just used the mission as an excuse to run off somewhere and loaf around!
Oliver's expression implied this meaning.

However, Charlemagne did not deliver the punishment he expected for Astolfo. Instead, he paused for a moment and brought up another topic, "Regarding Augier's sacrifice, can we confirm that it was the people from the observatory who came?"

“Your Majesty, that’s most likely the case!” Olivier reported, kneeling. “The battle report has been sent to you via magical imagery, but the battle wasn’t what it appeared to be. In fact, I secretly provided defensive support during Augier’s fight, but it was still easily broken by a single sword strike from him…”

In other words, the red-haired man who was witnessed casually wielded a sword that had already surpassed the resistance of the two paladins, and even had the power to create terrain changes over hundreds of kilometers on the ground.

Such power is so great that it would not be an exaggeration to say that it was a god descended to earth.

Every time he recalls the scene of that sword cleaving the battlefield and creating a super chasm, Oliver's originally calm heart can't help but tremble.

"Your Majesty, in my judgment, even if all of us paladins were to fight, we might not be able to defeat that man from Chaldea alone, unless Your Majesty personally intervenes...! And apart from Chaldea, which Your Majesty specifically mentioned earlier, there shouldn't be any other force with such formidable strength as this enemy, right?"

It's not that paladins look down on the scattered unmastered Servants summoned in this era, but rather that they are simply too weak without any additional buffs. Paladins can easily crush any unmastered Servant by relying on their own Noble Phantasms and the Holy Baptism of the Great Emperor.

In other words, Black Mary, Black Jeanne, and the others were lucky enough to escape this calamity.

“That’s not necessarily true…” Charlemagne seemed to be implying something. In fact, it’s not just Chaldea; the Demon King’s side can also produce super-powerful forces of the same level.

Otherwise, these two forces would not be strong enough to contend with each other.

Olivier wasn't stupid; he clearly understood what Charlemagne meant. Moreover, Charlemagne's statement wasn't about doubting the Demon King, but rather a key reminder of Olivier's current situation.

"Your Majesty is truly wise! You mean that although the Demon King has provided support to Your Majesty, it is unlikely that he will send troops to fight against us. However, this force clearly intends to manipulate us as pawns in order to destroy Chaldea or weaken its forces!"

After Oliver finished speaking, he felt a wave of powerlessness and bitterness. The formidable adversaries he had never heard of were fighting each other across the river of time, with history as their chessboard, while they were merely "pawns in the grand scheme of a great being"!
"Therefore we must strive! We must strengthen our kingdom without stopping! We must protect our foundation!"

Charlemagne issued a majestic declaration.

As he opened his arms, an ethereal, intangible hymn gradually rose around the palace, growing ever clearer.

Oliver was startled, and he could almost hear someone speaking and singing to him at close range. The voices were layered and overlapping, as if there were dozens or hundreds of people...

However, Charlemagne denied this figure.

"more than!"

The Emperor then raised his hand, and an invisible magic array converged into an endless stream that rumbled underground. Olivier seemed to see the palace transform in an instant under the influence of the dense magic and the powerful spirit, becoming tall, vast, and mysterious. The sounds that Olivier had heard earlier became even clearer.

That was the sound of tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands of European believers gathering together, singing hymns and sacred songs under the divine assimilation and coordination of Charlemagne:
Almighty Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, the Triune God, may Your glory shine upon Caesar Charlemagne! His love is unmatched except by God; it is the love of all humanity, the cornerstone of the world's redemptive order!

Oliver stared at the scene in shock and bewilderment, feeling as if he had become an insignificant ant in a corner of the temple. All he could see were countless spiritual beings of mortals devoutly chanting prayers, using their spirits to forge a spiritual kingdom unlike any other in the world.

These prayers initially seemed meaningless to the unsuspecting knights, but as Charlemagne forcibly spread their message throughout the nation, they rapidly built a vast and boundless spiritual domain within months. At the core of this domain was the holy city of Aachen. Countless spiritual rivers converged from all directions of the New Frankish Empire, surrounding and protecting the imperial and holy capital.

But Charlemagne's next words revealed to Oliver that this holy city was more than just a holy city.

The enormous expenditure of materials and manpower was not simply to praise the illusory reputation of the Church of Christ and the emperor.

This vast ocean of spirit can also become a source of strength.

It becomes a Noble Phantasm.

"...Originally, our heavenly kingdom still needed to be built and improved, but with the enemy at hand, we need to speed up our actions without delay!"

"Therefore, the second Noble Phantasm that I have painstakingly crafted since the beginning of the world will finally make its debut in the mortal realm."

Charlemagne drew his sword, Gouvayus, and declared, "I have no sword."

"Holy behold! The guardians have returned at this moment! (Calorus Patricius)"

The ground was shaking violently.

Oliver, and even the people of Aachen, were initially bewildered, but then a wave of mental energy swept over them, instantly calming them down.

But what happened next still left people horrified.

The holy city of Aachen, the whole city took flight!
Charlemagne, relying on the Holy Grail and magical means, used the entire nation's resources to create a sky city!
Blue light particles surged from churches and other buildings throughout Aachen, like an invisible order maintaining the operation of the holy city. The tall city walls, under this blessing, automatically acquired a powerful "mystery," forming the outer protective barrier of the Sky City.

The shadow cast by the fortress covered a large area of ​​the plain, causing panic among the rest of the Frankish population.

However, upon learning that this was His Majesty's magnificent feat, the people of Frankish territory who witnessed the Sky City were visibly swept up in fervor. The river of their spirit transformed from a gentle flow into a raging torrent, and the faith they offered became an almost tangible torrent of blue light!
Holy one! Caesar Charlemagne!

Holy! The Holy Knights are invincible!
(End of this chapter)