After my rebirth, Miss Saint turned evil

Of course, it could also be because they didn't plan to use Philos's city soldiers too much, or because their strategy had changed.

After hearing what Neymar said, Gerrard uttered a soft "Is that so?" and touched his beard, as if thinking about how to explain it.

After a while, after finishing his opening remarks, "It would be too long to start with the story of how it all started," Gerard opened his lips again.

"The point is, we didn't use that bastard Rosso to drag Filos into the cathedral. Well, we just wanted to prevent him from getting entangled with the Heraldry Cult."

Gerard continued: Anyway, he must have received money from the Heraldry Church.

"Furthermore, I know that little girl Philos Tret will decide to send troops even if she faces opposition from the People's Council. This is because she has the bloodline to make such a political judgment. Philos's city soldiers only need the minimum, so it's better that way."

Neymar chewed over Gerrard's words slowly, closing his eyes tightly as he considered how the words he had been told connected.

In other words, sending Rozo as an insider wasn't for this battle, but for some other purpose? He also foresaw that Rozo had ulterior motives and that Philos would only send the minimum number of soldiers.

Neymar couldn't help but frown.

What? There's a strange sense of dissonance. It's fine if Rosso has other motives, but judging by what the captain said—I feel like there's something more worthy of his attention than the battle with the Church of Heraldry.

"So, Captain, what's the other purpose?"

Neymar's frank question echoed in the tent. Although it was only for a moment, Neymar did see the corners of Gerrard's mouth slightly raised, as if he was very happy.

"What do you think it is?"

Neymar touched his chin gently and thought to himself that he still hated this old guy.

It would have been better to just say it directly, but instead he said something like this that only raised questions for me. Honestly, isn't Gerard completely different from me in fundamental ways?

Just like that, Neymar narrowed his eyes as he thought.

——The purpose of isolating the ruler Philos Tret.

If you think about it simply, it's to restrict her actions.

If one thinks a little more, it is also possible that it is to pull her down from the throne of rulership.

According to common sense, it is impossible for a lord to succeed in being refuted by his subjects, but the city called Philos is unusual. It is a city with an inexplicable organization like the People's Council.

So, do you have such an idea?

Grasping this point, Neymar responded to Gerrard.

After hearing this, Gerard nodded exaggeratedly and said.

"Isn't that clear enough? Yes, that's right. I gave Luo Zuo another instruction for this purpose."

The old man's hoarse voice echoed throughout the tent.

It was something very cold, and Neymar instantly felt his neck covered with ice.

- Get rid of Philos Tret. In short, some people think it would be bad if his bloodline continued to stay here.

Gerrard did not say who made this judgment. That was something that should not be said out loud. That's probably the case.

Issues concerning aristocratic bloodline or family inheritance disputes are common occurrences.

It is not uncommon to prevent family troubles in advance and suppress blood relatives other than heirs in advance.

By the way, Philos Tret was adopted, and this news also reached Neymar's ears.

So, in order to prevent her from getting involved in some kind of succession dispute, the old general appointed Luo Zuo during the battle, is that right?

——But, is this really possible?

The importance of this battle is self-evident. After all, it is a war conducted through the direct words of the Pope, which is equivalent to what the God of the Cathedral expects.

There's no such thing as a bloodline more important than that...

Neymar lowered her eyes and forced the option that emerged in her mind into the water. She desperately suppressed the option that emerged and wanted to strangle it with her hands.

You can't consider it, you can't think about it, and you can't draw conclusions.

Seeing Neymar's stiff expression, perhaps he understood something, Gerrard put on his cloak, stood up and said.

"Well, don't think about it now. The seeds have been sown. We'll deal with those guys from the Heraldry Cult after that."

Outside the tent, the noise was getting louder and louder. It was likely that the Templar Army and the Heraldic Army had already started a head-on confrontation.

Neymar adjusted his stiff expression and closed his lips.

Gerald swung out of the tent on his feet.

"Neymar, watch carefully. There aren't many enemies, but that's just right. Let me teach you how to create a battlefield with your hands."

Gerard said this, not in a frivolous voice like before, but in a very serious voice.

Neymar couldn't help but blink, and tension crawled down his back.

"Okay, I'll take a closer look."

After saying that, Gerard, with a white double-edged sword on his waist, stepped towards the battlefield.

The preliminary battles performed by the Philos soldiers were over, and the direct confrontation between the Grand Templar Army and the Heraldic Cult was about to begin. Neymar felt this way.

Chapter 9 In the Sunlight

The conflict between the Armorial Army and the Templar Army is a tit-for-tat fight, just like a wild beast roaring for its own survival.

Especially on the front lines, where multiple guns and flesh clashed with each other, blood flowed like a river, polluting the ground.

It was impossible to tell which was the blood of comrades and which were the eyeballs left by the hateful enemy soldiers.

Even if I bite my teeth lightly, blood will easily seep out, and my mouth will be filled with the taste of iron. I don't even have the chance to rinse my mouth with water.

That's it, great, this is the battlefield, this is what the battlefield should be like, the primitive struggle of those long-awaited and hot-headed guys smashing each other's heads.

Killing men, playing with women, trampling on children, it was so barbaric and disgusting that it could be said to be madness itself.

Despite this, humans cannot escape the battlefield.

No matter how much people sing the praises of peace, they all know that the battlefield will eventually come.

That's probably because the battlefield can sometimes be extremely tempting.

Because here, you don't have to think about anything.

There is no happiness, no misfortune, no hatred, and of course, no love here. Only death awaits everyone equally.

So no matter who you are, even if you want to take your eyes off the battlefield, you have to stare at it.

Murphy swung the black blade alternately with his arms, making a sound. Even when riding on a horse, he already knew how to wield the sword.

There was nothing more foolish than this, but the sword seemed to have become one with his body, guiding his arm along the correct path.

——clang, clang

The sunlight reflected from the sword was dazzling, and the sword cut the enemy's helmet in two. Something, whether blood or body fluid, splattered everywhere, polluting the sky.

Murphy's arm seemed unable to withstand the impact and it screamed and felt pain, which made him squint his eyes.

From a while ago, every time my arm was dragged by the sword, a part of my body would squeak.

It's like being a little kid and trying to swing a sword you can't even lift.

It's not the feeling of swinging a sword, but the feeling of being swung.

Not using weapons, but becoming weapons.

No, it’s still not possible. It’s totally not enough. If I want to get involved in the status of a hero, this level will cause people to laugh at me.

Ames Castina's flash was sharper, and Filia's blow was heavier.

Then, we need to reach out further forward.

"Master Murphy, there's a small gap in the front. What should we do?"

Perhaps because one of the commanders was killed, a gap appeared on the front line of the cathedral.

Of course, it was only a little bit. The enemy would continue to pour out from the rear anyway, and they could move quickly because they were wearing light equipment.

Although they lack protection, they are a very flexible type of soldier.

Moreover, although the opponent showed some problems, our situation was not much better.

After all, the front line is already in a state of chaos, and it would be abnormal to arrange the battle formation properly.

What should I do? This is the absolute answer I must give to the soldier whose gun is already stained red.

"Of course, we absolutely have to take the initiative. If we don't rush forward, everyone behind us will be stuck by the neck, forcing those who can still breathe to prepare for the attack."

That's right, now Murphy is fighting on the front line in the center of the battlefield with hundreds and thousands of soldiers around him.

In order to win, the Heraldry Church formulated a strategy of breaking through a point in the center, deploying as many troops as possible in the center and continuing to advance even if they suffered losses. This was the tactic.

That Lalga An said in a sorrowful voice that there was no other way except this or retreat - so there was only one thing he had to do.

Pain spread across her face and joints, and Murphy threw the candy in her arms into her mouth to soothe the pain and make her mind empty.

"Listen, don't die so easily. If you don't die, I'll take you to a shop with a nice woman."

Murphy said this to the soldiers around him, which immediately caused a burst of laughter and a smile on their faces.

Following Murphy were those guys who fully understood that they were about to die on the front line of this mission, but they still stood here. Among them were some older than Murphy and some younger than him.

No matter who it is, it wouldn't be strange at all even if bones and blood were scattered all over the floor when we meet next time. In fact, it would be more normal that way.

After joking with the soldiers around him, Murphy took a deep breath.

A commando team of about a hundred people was ready, and so was Frodo's chant.

"Frodo, you—"

Murphy planned to let Frodo return to the defensive position after launching this attack. After all, her magic was a valuable combat power.

If she were to go back to the guards to rest, she might be useful if something goes wrong.

Based on the current situation, Murphy thought that was the best option.

"—Oh, I'm the only one left out? How mean."

Frodo's words made Murphy close his mouth involuntarily. He knew that his face was becoming stiff.

Not knowing what to do, he could only think and narrow his eyes.

Frodo was right. When she went to the front line with him, she had certainly made the corresponding preparations.

In that case, sending her back right after finishing the job...isn't that an insult to her?

Well, it doesn't matter.

Murphy whispered "sorry", and Frodo, who was sitting behind her, nodded slowly and said.

"Also, you'll tell me about a good shop, right? I'm really looking forward to it."

The voice came into Murphy's ears close to her neck. The voice was sharp and piercing, as if it was going to cut off her back. Murphy's body became stiff in an instant.

That was just a joke to liven up the atmosphere, okay? Looking forward to it...it definitely wasn't meant literally, right?

While Murphy was talking to Frodo, the soldiers around them laughed again. Murphy really wanted to tell them who knew nothing: this time she was not joking.

But Murphy didn't do that. He just relaxed his shoulders slightly and let out a sigh.

We can no longer rest. All we have left is a breath of strength, and we must defeat the enemy in one go.

Murphy glanced around at the soldiers, as if trying to memorize their faces.

Then he blinked his glasses and gestured to Frodo.

From the front, the soldiers of the Cathedral were preparing to regroup.

Murphy still remembered that someone had taught him this before: The most effective way is to defeat the enemy at the beginning.

——Then let us fabricate a battlefield.

A sound came from Frodo's throat. It was the magician's breath, the magic's blessing, and the ultimate truth of changing the world with one's own will.

That sound shook the world.

In an instant, the torrent overturned the plain.

On the plains, there appeared an amount of water and a heavy pressure that should not have existed.

The sudden torrent swallowed up the enemy troops. Although they were on the ground, they experienced the strange feeling of drowning. Coupled with the pressure of the water, it was easy for people to lose their balance.

The Templar Army, which was just about to regroup, collapsed again.

This marks the third time that Frodo has used battlefield magic.