After my rebirth, Miss Saint turned evil

The demon called "cowardice" lurking on the battlefield is always looking for an opportunity to seize people's hearts.

Therefore, there is no need for them to make any decision here.

There is only one person who should make the decision.

Only, myself.

Murphy put her hand to her chin and frowned slightly.

As for the Saint's decision to advance, even if the outcome of the war cannot be decided tonight, it is impossible to judge the future trend.

But it is also very likely that something decisive will happen.

That could be the collapse of the Guards or the death of the Saint.

In this way, it can no longer hide like a bat in the dark without making the sound of flapping wings.

Here and now, a choice must be made.

To achieve success, to gain glory with these hands.

Yes, even if the previous plan collapses in your hands, you must achieve that goal.

"...Hawk, I'm going to join their riot now. Ah, it was planned from the beginning, I'm just a little late. If I'm late, I'll have to pay a lot of extra entrance fees."

Murphy narrowed her eyes and spoke vaguely.

That sentence is no different from the truth. Everything must be decided here.

If I were to go onto the battlefield and offer my sword, would I offer it to the Heralds or the Guards?

Originally, Murphy's plan was to have both sides confront each other, exhausting them, and then take the opportunity to cut off the head of the leader of the Cult of the Herald.

However, that situation is no longer possible.

It’s impossible.

So now, he should entrust himself to a better party based on the current situation.

Naturally, he should join forces with the Guards.

This choice is undoubtedly the most correct one.

In past history, the Heralds did capture Crossmaria.

That is to say, even if they continue like this, they will not suffer a complete failure immediately.

But the existence of Aimee Castina must be taken seriously.

Rather, the Herald Cultists will definitely fail.

If under this premise, they still want to attack the city.

First of all, the Heralds will definitely be defeated, and even the life of the Saint may be threatened.

Of course, Murphy didn't know whether this idea was correct.

However, if it was the Ames he knew, she would undoubtedly be able to do this.

Honestly speaking, if I insist on joining the Guards under the current circumstances, I will never be able to get along well with them.

After all, not long ago, Murphy broke the jaw of the lizard deputy captain.

So, the only one he can rely on now is Filia.

Or try to find an opportunity to take away the saint's heart, which should not be impossible.

Although Murphy still lives in the slums, the household registration and citizenship he previously obtained through the guild still exist.

Well, if he could take the head of the Saint who was threatening Crossmaria, the leader of the Heraldry Cult.

Even if he had some friction with the Guards before, he would definitely gain the corresponding honor.

But he was also well aware that such a prediction was a bit naive.

Murphy took a deep breath, letting the smell of gunpowder in the air pass through his nostrils.

Deep inside his body, it seemed as if something horrible was crawling.

For some reason, he didn't want to rush to the battlefield right away.

The feet seemed to be searching for something, taking root in the same place.

Is it because my imagination is wrong?

Just thinking about it this way will make you realize that the Saint Lady seems to have done a lot of unnecessary things.

In any case, things did not go as expected.

No, that's only natural.

History is always manipulated by the strong and the geniuses.

No matter how hard mortals think, the results are often unexpected.

The most important thing now is which hand to hold and to whom to hand the sword in this unexpected situation ahead.

Murphy sighed softly as she let out the smell of gunpowder that she had just inhaled into her lungs.

In any case, if we hesitate here any longer, the credit for repelling the Heraldry Cultists may fall entirely on the Guards.

Once the Heraldic Cult's offensive was broken, the city was no longer in danger of being attacked.

So, the only question now is how to bring Frodo back.

If he could successfully blend in with the guards, rescuing Frodo wouldn't be a problem.

So, this is the correct answer.

There is no other choice besides this method.

That's right.

It’s the only correct choice, and anyone who doesn’t choose it is a fool.

Ah, that's how it should be, that's right.

but.

—Why? Why should I deceive myself with my own tongue?

My choice is undoubtedly the right one.

But in this case, the previous work in the slums has become in vain to some extent.

There's no way, now is not the time to waste time.

It is time to discard unnecessary things in order to avoid further losses.

Yes, that should be the case. We should abandon them.

Murphy turned his head and suddenly found that Hawke was staring at him who was temporarily silent.

Unconsciously, a distorted sound came out of his mouth.

That is the sound of the molars being unable to bite smoothly because of excessive force.

——I thought about it. Why did I come back to this era? What was it for?

It was just a blink of an eye, yes, not even a second.

The moment Murphy asked this question, he felt as if his heart was enveloped by a chill.

Moreover, the heart seemed to no longer function.

It just kept throbbing on its own, disrupting the blood flow.

Indeed, the option of presenting the captured head of the Saint to the Guards is not impossible.

It's nothing more than becoming a messenger of justice.

In the future, there will be more work from the guild, and life will get better and better.

Then, what will happen to them.

Murphy's eyes widened unconsciously.

The people in front of him were reflected in his pupils.

Those are the people in the slums who don’t know if they will still be alive tomorrow.

Inside was Hawke, and his sister Adeline.

If we abandon them and trample on their words, the conversation with the Guards will become easy.

Only, it was no different than before.

Continue living the same life.

It will only go back to the past, the days when I gave up everything.

"Murphy...Mr."

Before I knew it, sweat was licking my temples.

The unclear voice was probably Hawke's sister Adeline.

She should have lost her voice, but at this moment, she actually made a delicate sound.

"Now, inside... if we want to go... it's too late. But there is a good way."

In those small eyes, Murphy's figure was clearly reflected.

Slowly, as if to dig out the dark mud deep in his heart, Murphy exhaled deeply.

Then, before Hawke and the elders beside him could add anything, he answered in advance.

"—the city sewers, right? I know."

At this moment, there was no confusion in Murphy's heart.

No, it would be too false to say that there is none at all.

But the general direction has been determined.

Think about it carefully.

What on earth brought me to this era?

Chapter 60 Enemy or Friend?

Saint Matthias felt a bloody taste in her mouth.

Was it that the lip was cut at some point?

Or did it drip into your mouth from a cheek injury?

Or was it the blood of his companions, who had protected him and risked their lives as shields, that splashed on his tongue?

Mattia, who was gasping for breath, didn't know the answer, she just took a step forward.

The attack and defense inside Crossmaria was like hell for the Heralds.

Everything was as expected. The moment we entered the city, we were attacked by a torrential downpour of arrows.

No matter how many shields are prepared for defense, there will always be corresponding victims.

We can only move forward using our sacrificed companions as shields.

The streets of the city are now paved with the blood and remains of the Heraldry Cultists.

The blood tasted bitter, and Madia spat.

The smell of blood and internal organs mixed together and kept entering the nasal cavity. If it were a weak woman, she would definitely have fainted.

But even so, Mattia could not fall.

You can't let your trembling feet collapse under the drive of instinct.

Why? Because I am a saint, the banner of the Heraldry followers who follow behind me.

——Drink!

The roars of the Guards and the Heralds overlapped.

The sound of clashing spears and the mournful cries of swords and shields played the music of the battlefield, dyeing the night bloody.

The Heraldry Cult's military strength is in no way inferior to that of the Guards.