This heretic cannot be burned, he must be hung up and whipped!

Karsus felt that the damned cursed one was trying to squeeze in through the crack.

Beelzebub suddenly realized that he seemed to have made a big mistake——

The reason why Neos is unwilling to unleash his full strength in the mortal world is simply because the veil of the mortal world restricts his power. Once he mobilizes all the essence of the warp and exerts his full strength, he will break the boundaries of the mortal world and fall into the depths of the warp like these gods.

But now it seems that it has personally led Neos into the subspace.

The ground crumbled and cracked. A dazzling white light shone from the cracks. Karthus's remains were lifted up and smashed into pieces. A cold, bluish-white sun hovered in the seventh ring of hell.

"You seem to have entered this war with a naive illusion: that only you can bring the flames of war to human land, while humans cannot fight back and attack your territory."

The unbearable light enveloped the earth.

Beelzebub's eyes were fixed on the power of Neos. He could feel that this was not Neos's real body. The essence of Neos' ether sea still relied on the connection with those believers to stay in the present world. This was only a small part of Neos' power.

"You traitor to the Ether Sea," Beelzebub said, "We are all of the same kind, we are all gods of the Ether Sea, yet you want to destroy everything. What good will it do you?"

"I will never be one of you monsters!"

Neos shouted:

"Beelzebub, and all the demons and monsters of Hell, listen up!"

Neos' voice roared through the underworld. The fire on the ground grew stronger and stronger, until it seemed as if it would burn out time.

"I'm not here to negotiate, I'm here to declare war." Neos' voice was cold and resolute, penetrating every corner of Plague City and reaching the ears of every demon. "For eight hundred years, you believed that humanity could only passively withstand attacks, huddled in our own territories, barely surviving. Today, your illusions are shattered."

White light began to spread in all directions, washing over every inch of the Plague City like a tide. The rotting earth began to smoke under the light, and the contaminated buildings and demonic creations were twisted and deformed as if forged by the flames.

"See what your arrogance brings upon you, Lord of Flies," Neos said with unwavering determination. "I bring you only a warning today, but it will serve as a reminder: the lands of men are no longer your hunting grounds, and we are no longer merely your prey."

Beelzebub's palace began to crumble, its carefully constructed, corrupted structure melting in the white light, like ice and snow meeting the blazing sun. Screams echoed from all directions, and demons fled howling, finding nowhere to hide.

"You have repeatedly opened rifts to humanity to conquer and plunder. Now, these rifts will become your nightmare. Each time you open these rifts, my power will follow. I will hunt you, as you once hunted humanity."

A group of ignorant Hell Lords stood up, roaring and summoning storms of plague to resist the light, but the plague dissipated like foam the moment it came into contact with the white light: "You can't do this! This is against the rules! The Warp has its own laws!"

"Rules?" Neos' voice was filled with sarcasm. "You can't expect everyone to follow the rules when you yourself benefit from them."

White light condensed into countless sharp swords, piercing every inch of the Plague City. The demons' wails rose and fell, and the ground began to crack. Beelzebub's palace collapsed like a piece of card, its once proud seat of power reduced to ruins in a matter of minutes.

Half of the Plague City was reduced to ash by the cold sun, and tens of thousands of demons were purified and dissipated by this pure power. The surviving demons hid in the darkness in fear, not daring to make a sound.

"Remember this day, Beelzebub. This is only the beginning." Neos' voice gradually lowered, but the lingering sound still echoed throughout Hell. "We will meet again when you step into the human world again. And then, I will no longer be so merciful."

As the last sentence fell, the blue-white light receded like a tide, gathered again at the rift of hell, and then disappeared into the gap just as it came.

---————Temple Ling Paint Er Ren Si Temple

When the rift in Hell completely closed, everyone on the battlefield in the Mani region was still in shock. The moment the white light disappeared, the halo around Luce dimmed. She stumbled back a few steps, and Amos hurried forward to support her.

"Respected Living Saint Luce—are you okay?" Amos asked with concern.

Luce nodded weakly, but a triumphant smile spread across his face: "He did it... We did it...!"

The soldiers on the battlefield looked at each other, still unable to fully comprehend what had just happened. They only knew that a huge explosion and vibration came from the rift, and then the rift suddenly closed. All the heretic troops in the distance, as if summoned by some kind of summons, hurriedly withdrew from the battlefield.

Valentin walked over to Luce and handed her a bottle of water: "Do you know what he did?"

Luce took a sip of water, then looked up at the location where the rift had just existed. "He brought the flames of war to Hell... He destroyed half of Plague City and burned down Beelzebub's palace... He declared war on Hell."

This statement caused a stunned silence on the battlefield. The veterans looked at each other, shaking their heads in disbelief. Bringing the flames of war to hell? This was a feat unprecedented in human history.

"What should we do?" a young soldier asked nervously.

Luce stood up, his eyes determined though he was weak. "Let's return to Budapest. Neos has already paved the way for us. Now it's time for us to prove ourselves."

A few hours later, the surviving Crusaders in the Mani region began an orderly evacuation, gathering towards Budapest. Surprisingly, they encountered no obstruction from any heretical legions along the way. Instead, they could see the remnants of the Black Grail Order on the distant hills, watching them warily but not daring to approach.

"They're afraid," Valentine said as he rode his horse, gazing at the heretic army in the distance. "They're afraid Neos will come again."

Luce nodded, and she rode at the front of the team, wearing a white Crusader robe that shone in the sun. Although she did not show that supernatural light again, the soldiers could still feel an unusual breath from her - a breath of hope.

"They're not just afraid of Neos," Luce whispered, "they're even more afraid of us."

"Us?" asked the guarding soldier in surprise.

"Yes, we." Luce looked off into the distance with a determined gaze. "Neos has proven to Hell that humans are no longer lambs to be slaughtered at will. For the first time, they've realized that hunters can become prey.

Even if most of us mere mortals can't do it, it's a start."

The team advanced along a road once contaminated by the plague. Surprisingly, the once decaying land was now slowly recovering. New shoots sprouted from the roadside grass, and the dark clouds in the sky dissipated, revealing the long-lost blue sky.

"Look," an old crusader said, pointing into the distance, "life is coming back to attract the attention of the people!"

Indeed, Neos's power not only destroyed half of Hell but also cleansed the Mani region of the plague in the real world. The once lifeless land began to revive, as if awakening from a long nightmare.

"This is what we have to do," Luce said to everyone, "drive out all the monsters. Neos has opened the way for us, but the next battle requires the strength of every one of us. Neos is powerful, but he is not an omniscient and omnipotent god after all."

“But as long as we stick together,” Valentine added, “nothing can stop us.”

The soldiers echoed in unison. As the column continued to advance towards Budapest, the evening sun shone on them, gilding every flag and every piece of armor. Behind them, the shadow of the Heretic Legion gradually disappeared on the horizon, while in front of them, the outline of Budapest was already faintly visible.

Troops were heading out of the city and they were evacuating.

PS: 260 votes, next update 4.5k...

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In Flames: 1914: Chapter 46: On Protracted War, But Where's My Ammunition?

Budapest at this moment

Neos stood on the high tower of the church, overlooking the soldiers below who were busy like a colony of ants.

"We don't have enough transport capacity," the quartermaster reported to Neos with a worried look on his face. "The daily fuel supply from the pipeline is only enough to support the operation of more than twenty Holy Inquisitors, but only enough to support one-third of the fleet. The rest—"

"What about the rest?" Neos asked in a deep voice.

"We are seriously short of tires. Even fuel won't help. All the spare parts shipped from southern Hungary last month were destroyed in last week's bombing." The quartermaster handed over a list that was densely packed with records of various shortages.

Neos took the list, his eyes wandering over the numbers.

“Malgobi...”

The most painful thing for Neos in the world wasn't not being able to obtain something, but having to give it up. In Budapest, Eastern Europe's most important industrial city, he had to watch helplessly as most of the precious industrial equipment remained where it was.

"There's so much we can't take away... We don't even have enough explosives to destroy the industrial equipment we can't take away."

Outside, thousands of soldiers and civilians were manually moving various equipment. A dozen men laboriously pushed a massive lathe on wooden wheels, their thin clothes soaked with sweat. In the distance, several half-disassembled pieces of machinery were tied up with ropes, awaiting transport that would arrive at an uncertain time.

“Why are tires so scarce?”

"Saint, we have very few rubber-producing plants and the yield is low. We have no other options."

Neos suddenly realized that this world seemed to have no great voyages of discovery, and America had not been explored at all. The church had explored outward several times, but the plans were always interrupted by the attacks of heretics.

The main source of rubber is America.

"How can we produce rubber without rubber trees?" Neos asked curiously.

"Ah, that's what the Orientals brought. The first time those yellow-skinned, black-eyed Oriental expeditions appeared at sea, they really scared us. They brought some rubber-producing tree species from Southeast Asia, which are much better than the oleander and dandelion we used before!" (Actually, they are some plants from the Apocynaceae and Dandelion families)

PS: The setting of this part of the expeditionary force is derived from the "Northern Qing and Southern Ming" world line created by the East Asian fan fiction of Trench Crusaders. Since the official has only released content about Europe, and the plot of this book involves opening up the Silk Road, the Asian and Middle Eastern settings of this book will be created on this basis, and the original author has authorized it (see the Miscellaneous Volume for details).

"Oleander?!" Neo QU N棋H Wo厁澪@飼#6 器伞斯 was very surprised.

"Technical priest Hester discovered it by chance while boiling oleander juice. Hester is a celebrity in our hometown!" a technical priest recalled.

"Speaking of my hometown, the largest rubber production company in the Holy Roman Empire, IG Farben, has its headquarters in my hometown of Frankfurt." "Frankfurt? How did you come to serve in Eastern Europe?" another technical priest who was sorting out the documents interrupted.

"That's a long story—" "Alright! Let's talk about this when you get home. Do we really have no other choice but to use the ship?"

"That's right, Saint."

Neos sighed and turned to the communications room, where an underground cable connected to Vienna. Although the surface cable had been blown up, the defenders had later reestablished contact with Vienna through an underground oil pipeline. Inside, several technicians were busy debugging the equipment.

"Get me the Bishop of Vienna."

--------

At the same time, the atmosphere in the Vienna Bishop's Palace was as heavy as lead.

"The situation is not good, Your Excellency," said Admiral von Reinhardt, the Holy Roman Empire's special envoy, pointing to a map on the wall. "The heretic legions have already bypassed the Carpathian Mountains along the Black Sea. News from Kiev claims they have established a defense line in the Principality of Moldova."

"Moldova? We can't lose it again. We've already lost the Hungarian Plain. If we lose the Ukrainian Plain as well, it will be a big problem!"

Vienna Bishop Hermann paced back and forth anxiously, and the huge map of Eastern Europe hanging on the wall was almost covered with red paint representing heresy.

"Let the Russians worry about it. We should be more concerned about the city right here. Saint Neos's power has helped us hold Budapest for now. According to the battle reports, at least two of the main Heretic regiments were slain at the gates of Budapest. It seems that Saint Neos is indeed a real character."

Only when talking about Budapest could Hermann breathe a sigh of relief. In this world of bad news, only by reading the battle report from Budapest could he feel a little comfort.

"The current situation is that the heretics have suffered and are coming to attack us. We can give up Budapest, but we can't give up Vienna. It's difficult! Difficult!"

Vienna Archbishop Karl Hermann rubbed his temples. Outside the window, the bells of Stephansdom Cathedral were ringing, as if a warning of the approaching danger.

"How long can the Crusaders along the river hold out?" asked the bishop.

"As long as we don't face an attack from the main heretic force, we can hold out for two weeks at most," another general replied. "Most of them are new recruits from Hungary and Poland, and their combat effectiveness is limited. The main force in Budapest is our backbone."

They were very tactful and did not discuss how long these soldiers could hold out against the attack of the main force of the heretics. This was meaningless.

"Budapest is already being evacuated. According to the plan the Saints sent us earlier, we will receive at least 200,000 veteran reinforcements," von Reinhardt added. "The remaining 50,000 elite troops will follow the Saints north. They will establish a base north of the Carpathian Mountains."

The air in the office seemed to freeze. A dozen generals and officials from the bishop's palace looked at each other in bewilderment: this newly ordained saint seemed to have an ambiguous relationship with Rome.

So far, the Pope has not made any statement, and Neos has not mentioned the Pope publicly. The two maintain the status quo with this subtle tacit understanding.

At this moment, the communications officer hurriedly pushed the door open and said, "Sir, there's a call from Budapest. It's Lord Neos himself!"

The bishop quickly walked to the phone and answered the line: "Venerable Saint Neos, Vienna is at your service."

After listening to Neos's request for several minutes, the bishop fell into deep thought. Sending ships to Budapest? Sailing hundreds of kilometers across the Danube under the watchful eyes of the heretic legion? It was a nearly impossible task.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the bishop turned to the generals present, "His Excellency Neos requests that we send a fleet to evacuate Budapest's industrial equipment via the Danube."

The conference room immediately erupted in discussion.

"Absurd!" von Reinhardt objected loudly. "The Reich can't even guarantee the safety of Vienna, and it wants to divert its forces to Budapest?"

"But those devices are crucial to the war effort. Neos doesn't even have enough explosives to blow them up!" the artillery commander retorted. "If they fall into the hands of heretics—"

"We're having trouble even protecting ourselves!" the logistics chief interrupted. "Vienna's defense requires every ship and every soldier! You're all too aware of the Empire's military capabilities. The ragtag armies assembled by the various states are no match for the Church's Crusaders! We should use this as a threat to Neos!"

As arguments continued, the bishop stood at the window, gazing through the foggy glass toward the Danube. Several ships were sailing slowly on the river, but behind the seemingly calm scene lay an impending storm.

"Enough," the bishop finally interrupted the argument. "This is not something we can decide alone." He turned to the communications officer. "Connect me to Rome. I need to speak directly to His Holiness Pope Benedict. Only he can decide whether we should focus on defending Vienna or divert our forces to rescue the industrial equipment in Budapest."

As the bishop waited for a call from Rome, he gazed at the large map on the wall. The Danube, like a blue ribbon, connected Budapest and Vienna. On the other side of the river, countless red markings marked the path of the heretic legions, like a tightening net.

------------

A few minutes later, through a complex circuit relay, the Pope's voice was transmitted from Rome to Vienna, and then back to Budapest through another line. Those present could only hear half of the conversation, but even so, the seriousness of the conversation still made everyone in the communication room hold their breath.

"Saint Neos, it's a pleasure to meet you this way," the Pope's voice came through the line, a hiss of static. "How are things in Budapest?"

Neos stood in the dim light of the Budapest underground communications room. The heretic air force still attacked from time to time, and explosions and sirens could be heard from outside the window. He stared at the battle map on the wall. The Danube River meandered across the map like a blue lifeline.

"Let's cut through the red tape, Your Holiness. Our time is precious. Every minute of delay could mean hundreds less people are evacuated."

"Well!" the Pope said, "Do you have any evacuation plan?"

Both of them knew that the so-called defense of Budapest was just a slogan.

This city could not be defended to the bitter end. The purpose of the Crusaders' Battle of Budapest was to exhaust the attacking forces of the heretics, preventing them from annihilating the main force of the Crusaders in Eastern Europe and completely occupying Hungary. However, the prerequisite for all this was to defeat the heretics' primary objective - their attempt to annihilate the main force of the Crusaders.

Holding on stubbornly is not conducive to a long-term war of resistance. It would be foolish to fight against heretics in this way!

"We must prepare for a protracted war. We've been fighting low-intensity trench warfare with the heretics for hundreds of years, with one battle line barely shifting a meter for over a decade. That can't be called a protracted war."

The others in the communications room exchanged glances.

"Tell me about your 'lasting strategy', Neos." The Pope's tone became more serious.

Neos took a deep breath, as if organizing a complex train of thought: "...The heretics are very mobile. Static defensive warfare is no longer enough to deal with their attacks. Now it's no longer a case of everyone squaring off and throwing punches at each other.

Their blitzkrieg swept across Eastern Europe. If we continue to fight according to the idea of ​​a static war, it will be useless even if we have the whole of Europe as a backing. Don't be optimistic just because I won this small decisive battle in Budapest -

This isn't a conflict that can be decided in one or two decisive battles. While the heretic legions are powerful, their logistics are stretching ever longer, making supply increasingly difficult. We can't afford to give them the chance to reorganize their supply lines and clear the occupied territories!

We must use the complex terrain, the support of the people, and the vast territory to engage in a tug-of-war with the heretics, and ultimately wear them down and win.

The current situation is that a protracted war requires three basic conditions: food, weapons and a large number of troops.