After my rebirth, Miss Saint turned evil

The two sides were evenly matched, and although some were wounded by arrows, the purity of their fanatical enthusiasm did not lower their morale.

Look, another guardsman's head was fiercely engulfed by the spear, and blood and ink were splattered on the arms of the herald cultists.

Some time has passed since the conflict between the two sides.

At this time, a situation began to emerge in Mattia's mind.

That was the end of this battle.

On the street in front of the city gate, arrows fell from the sky, and guards attacked with their ferocious fangs bared.

Indeed, both are threats.

Yes, but.

Madia read the battle situation from the swaying of the surrounding flags, the roars of the soldiers, and the speed of their advance.

As the result came to her mind, she slowly narrowed her eyes.

If this is the best measure the other party can take, this side will win.

At least, I won't lose.

On Mattia's face, which had always been frank and expressive, the corners of her mouth rose sharply for the first time in a long time.

Indeed, the damage caused by the thousands of arrows raining down on the heads of the Heralds was not negligible.

However, during hand-to-hand combat with the Guards, the arrows' momentum would gradually weaken.

Then, what remains is the Guards and the Heralds, and the quality and number of their respective soldiers.

It must be admitted that in terms of numbers the Heralds are few in number.

However, Mattia's intuition was that in terms of quality and momentum, they would definitely not lose.

Yes, if the situation does not change drastically and continues like this, then this side will definitely win in the end.

That’s right, Mattia was determined.

Yes, it was at that time, before it arrived.

"Saint Madia, part of the front line has collapsed! A charging force is approaching!"

Lalge An's wailing was audible, and the sound was not small at all, but when it reached Madia's ears, it was strangely quiet.

In the distance, you can see the gleaming white blade.

What followed was a flash of blood dancing in the darkness.

At this moment, even the sound of breathing and the anxious look were pouring out from the face that had always maintained a calm expression.

That golden hair and golden pupils.

It's still far, still a very long distance away, but it's always looking at this side.

Just this alone, Mattia understood.

Just like that, terror coursed through my body, as if I were being split from head to toe.

That thing, it's coming this way. It's coming.

Even if thousands of corpses were piled up as sandbags, the gold would still devour itself like an all-consuming torrent.

This premonition became a heavy rock in Madia's heart.

what is that?

Incomprehensible and unimaginable.

In Mattia's expectation, there would not be such a person in this war, who would intend to take the head of the enemy general alone in the midst of thousands of troops.

Hard to imagine.

Mattia's tempered expression collapsed.

The surrounding noise seemed to be very far away, and the only sound was the clicking of clenched teeth.

Now, another Herald Cultist stood in front of the gold.

However, in just a few seconds, his head was already flying in the air.

There is no doubt that I will die at his hands.

Mattia accepted this outcome naturally in her heart.

At that moment, she understood incredibly.

Everything will end here.

A bitter regret that made her stick out her tongue, and another feeling close to despair, began to emerge in Mattia's heart.

In that life filled with pain and heavy responsibilities, she began living with the nickname of Saint from a young age.

Live every day to break through expectations and overcome pressure.

Even though he knew that his existence was only to be used politically.

But life does not allow denial.

That was a life where she was expected to be a saint no matter where she went.

A life that can only be recognized by wearing the clothes of a saint.

The sword is approaching.

That thing is almost here.

Even if those anxious Heraldsmen continued to serve as shields, the outcome would be the same.

I'm sorry, Your Excellency.

Sorry, fellow believers.

I'm sorry, father and mother.

And, I'm sorry, sister.

Mattia failed to become a saint.

At this moment, Mattia began her final confession in her heart.

That's right, if life is only meaningful if you continue as a saint, then you should remain a saint until the end.

At least I hope to see this scene through the eyes of the people who slaughtered me.

Mattia clasped her hands together naturally, in a prayer gesture.

Just like a martyr.

"The Saint of the Heraldry Cult, are you sure?"

Unexpectedly, the golden voice was soft.

The voice of the god of death is so gentle, maybe it is the last bit of luck.

Mattia prayed and nodded as if she didn't need to speak.

In an instant, the golden knee shook, and the white blade turned into the scythe of death, flashing towards the saint's neck.

"No, no, don't wear that saintly mask at a time like this. Praying at the last moment is like raising your hands in surrender."

In that brief moment, such a sarcastic voice reached Mattia's ears.

At the same time, the sound of iron colliding could be heard all around.

No one can tolerate an execution that is never carried out.

Then, Mattia slowly raised her head.

There, in the dark night, the gleaming white blade was stopped by the dim silver light.

"If you're going to die, just die cleanly. It's really unbearable to watch. If you have the chance, just struggle to live as ugly as possible."

The long sword reflected the moonlight.

The figure shrugged lightly.

Just a helper.

Obviously, there was no need for him to risk his life.

Mattia was stunned.

Before his eyes, Murphy, the adventurer so named, appeared.

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

The reason why I came back here is still uncertain.

But it is definitely not to trample on others.

It is not to eradicate those who are despised and trampled upon like we once were.

If I do that, will it be any different from those guys who abandoned me before?

How can such a thing be convincing?

That Filia girl will definitely laugh at me and call me an idiot again.

It felt like the shadows running on the ground were laughing at me.

Yeah, this is totally, it can only be called stupid.

But okay, that's fine.

I don't understand anything about making rational and correct choices.

If you want to talk about the right choice, this is really the only one.

Join forces with the Heraldic Cultist, Saint Madia.

Behind her is Saint Madia, and in front of her is the brave Ames Castina.

I see. The banner becomes clear here, and it is really easy to understand.

However, if possible, I would still like to reach out to the more powerful force.

"Honestly, I didn't expect you to actually come here, Mr. Murphy."

Although Ames failed to kill the Saint immediately, her expression did not reveal any anxiety.

Rather, from her tone, she had somewhat anticipated Murphy's arrival.

"I agree. I hadn't expected to show up until now. Did I keep you waiting?"

At this moment, Murphy had a bad feeling in his mind.

However, he spoke in a nonchalant tone while twirling the sword in his hand.

The technique is already very familiar.

So if they fight, it will probably cause some trouble to the opponent.

Amid the clamor on the battlefield, there was a temporary silence.

The Guards were the reason why Vanguard Ames stopped.

As for the Herald Cultists, it might be because the intruder Murphy took the Saint's place and took the incoming sword.

This is an extremely distorted space.

What should have been a very noisy battlefield has now become temporarily silent.

"No, it's not that serious. But, I want to ask you something."

Aimee spoke out her words one by one while flawlessly rearranging the double-edged sword.

Murphy could feel the air exhaled from her lungs inexplicably becoming cold.

"I have all sorts of troubles, and then, I only ask one thing. Mr. Murphy, are you my enemy or my friend?"

This question sounds strange.

On the battlefield, right in front of you, when facing your opponent with a sword, no one will answer the question of whether he is a friend or an enemy.

The law of the battlefield is to cut the Gordian knot.

Murphy felt a little uneasy, and the words rose and fell in her throat several times.