After my rebirth, Miss Saint turned evil

He cannot make the world adapt to him no matter what, and must make his body submit to the world in order to survive. From this perspective, he should be just an ordinary person.

But now, he displayed a fighting posture that was not like that of a human.

What if it's just an ordinary person who keeps adopting inhuman fighting methods?

The result is obvious: anyone who imitates the behavior of a madman will also become a madman.

If he continued to engage in inhuman behavior, he would one day cease to be human.

Of course, generally speaking, before that, his body and mind will have problems and will definitely break down.

But... Gerard slowly raised his eyes and looked at the battlefield.

According to my memory, Murphy should be a very ordinary person no matter where he is. I don't remember his body being so tough.

"This should be my responsibility. Adjutant Neymar, I order you. Command the soldiers until I return. Ambushes are only allowed to be used to attack the flank of the enemy's main camp or when our army is broken."

"Just go ahead and do it. I'll take the responsibility."

After saying this, Gerard held the reins of his warhorse tightly.

Chapter 15: The Great Evil

In the large tent of the Heraldry Cult's headquarters, Saint Madia desperately suppressed the trembling of her fingertips and opened her lips.

The messenger in front of him was exhausted and was about to kneel down.

"You've worked hard. You should rest well. You are not allowed to return to the front line. Come, give him some water and food."

As Madia spoke, she ordered the young soldier, whose eyes still held the madness of the battlefield, to rest.

If he were left alone, he would definitely return to the battlefield with his cramped hands.

Seeing the young soldier and the soldiers serving beside him leave the big tent, the sound of Madia's teeth chattering finally rang out.

It felt as if her spine was on fire, making Mattia's whole body hot.

——Yes, you should have known it long ago, because that’s the kind of person you are.

The information the young soldier brought was a brief description of the situation on the front line and what Murphy planned to do from now on.

He was really just conveying the situation, not even mentioning our request. This made Madia's heart burn with anger.

If things got tough, why not ask for some help? Murphy's attitude was as if he was saying he would figure it out himself.

Didn't I say I've learned to rely on others? Or is there no other way?

At this point, Madia was filled with more than just anger and indignation. Regret and self-reflection also seeped out from the corners of her mouth.

Considering him, considering Murphy's character, it's very clear what will happen when he goes to the front line.

If danger occurs, he will definitely risk his life. Of course, he is aware of the danger.

Despite this, she had to send him to the front lines. Madia's pupils twisted with regret.

If I had been more mature as a saint and done my best, I wouldn't have put such a burden on him. If I could have come up with a better plan, there wouldn't have been any need to put him in danger.

I regret it so much. All of this is caused by my own lack of strength. I really regret it so much.

Moreover, there was a desire for self-reflection burning in Mattia's heart.

——Also, I think I spoiled him too much. I actually allowed him to be so willful that he could fall into a deadly situation all by himself.

Before Murphy rushed to the battlefield, Mattia had already given detailed instructions.

In particular, never take actions that will cost your life. If you determine that it is a reckless action, you must keep the option of retreat in mind. I should have said this many times.

While holding those hands and looking into those eyes, I said it many times.

Despite this, he still broke the agreement with himself.

While Mattia was feeling anxious about Murphy's safety, she also felt an indescribable heat burning in her heart, which even Mattia herself seemed unable to handle.

"Ann, I want to go to the battlefield too. Bring the horse here."

——Never go to the battlefield!

Despite such strong opposition from those around her, the heart of the Heraldry Church, Saint Madia, was in the tent.

Her voice, echoing in his ears, still resounded throughout the Heraldry camp.

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In the vortex of soldiers, blood, and bones, with every step forward, our soldiers will die calmly, and with another step, the throats of the soldiers next to us will explode.

One step forward, and then another step forward. Every step forward will result in someone dying. This place is such a terrible hell.

However, when Murphy saw that face approaching her, she couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

It seems that I did nothing wrong. At least, what I did was beyond the old man's expectations.

Because, if everything was under the control of that old man, he would never show up in person, but would only frown somewhere where no one else could reach.

And now, he appeared on the front line of the battlefield, which proved that the situation on the battlefield began to get out of control in the hands of the old man. Great.

In the sight stained with blood, Murphy opened her lips and suddenly found that her lungs were beating violently as if she was frightened.

"Hey, old man, has your neck been washed with good wine?"

"That's all bullshit. I can only wash my stomach with wine."

The sound of horse hooves rang out, and the Templar army made way for a passage. The old man - the enemy general Gerard appeared, his gray armor looking particularly dazzling in the twilight.

To be honest, I thought he wouldn't show up until the end, so I had to find a way to lure him out.

Now, all that’s left is to climb over this wall.

Spreading her creaking legs slightly, Murphy narrowed her eyes.

"I will carry it through to the end—Gerald, I can't kneel under your influence forever."

Yes, if I just rely on the old man's teachings, I will never be able to change. I can only crawl on the ground and look at someone enviously, just like in the past.

Since this is the case, we must transcend it. This is the only way out.

Murphy swung his sword across his shoulder and extended his right foot forward.

The enemy is still on horseback, and the sword here is not easy to reach, but there is still a way to deal with it.

Gerard must be killed here. The falling of the general's head alone will significantly reduce the morale of the soldiers.

If all goes well, the ambush might even be able to lose its function.

If the Heraldry Church wants to find a way to victory, then the ambush is an absolute obstacle that cannot be avoided, so it is necessary to stop Gerard's heart here.

With the cathedral soldiers around him still weakly holding their guns, this should be the best opportunity to kill Gerard.

Gathering strength in his knees, Murphy began to regulate his breathing.

Although his heel felt as if it was torn off, he tried hard to suppress the sound of pain that was about to leak out, then fixed his eyes and calculated the time needed to pounce.

The wrinkles on Gerard's face became deeper, and there seemed to be some sadness in his expression.

"The roads no longer intersect, Murphy?"

That was the first time Murphy had heard a voice and tone, and it was not Gerard's usual light voice that was always joking.

His solemn and fluent voice was probably the voice of a general, an appointed member of the cathedral.

The air around them became tense. "Then there's nothing we can do," Gerrard continued.

"—Meffy, the Great Sinner. In the name of Gerard Kaliba, the fifth generation hero appointed by the Grand Cathedral, I declare—you a great evil, your sins irreversible."

Gerald's dull voice echoed around.

"Soldiers. Justice and God's teachings lie beneath our swords. Fight evil fearlessly and prove that we are absolutely righteous!"

Hearing those words, Murphy's eyes twitched.

This wasn't a good development for him; it was actually a bad one.

At Gerard's loud command, the passion of faith was rekindled in the eyes of the cathedral soldiers.

Their hands holding guns and axes were no longer as weak as before, and their will gradually became firmer.

Then, with just one word, just one order from Gerard, there was no doubt that the soldiers of the Cathedral would charge over here even at the cost of their lives.

They are still where they are now only because they were ordered to retreat.

Looking at the Templar Army reorganizing the situation in front of him, Murphy let out a deep breath.

If the enemy soldiers around him raised their guns with this momentum, dozens of people in the assault force, including him, would be killed in an instant. That was a natural thing.

Murphy poured strength into her hands, which were tightly gripping the sword, and whispered to the soldiers around her.

"Please entrust your life to me and give me five seconds."

What Murphy said was so selfish that it almost made him feel self-loathing.

After all, this sentence means the same thing as letting them die, and is no different from letting them use their lives to buy time.

Even though she was stabbed in the back, Murphy didn't think it was weird, and even thought it was natural.

However, as if completely swallowed by his words, the surrounding Heraldry soldiers nodded and raised their spears and iron swords.

No matter who they were, they were covered in scars and filth, and no one was intact, including Murphy.

It was incredible. Why did everyone, including herself, willingly give up their lives? Murphy couldn't figure it out.

Despite this, he still calmly adjusted his breathing.

Across from him, Gerard opened his mouth wide just before the Heraldic Army charged towards him.

"This is the most basic redemption. Die here as a human being, Murphy—all troops, take the head of the great evil Murphy."

The soldiers' roars and cries of killing echoed throughout the battlefield, and as if accompanying them, Murphy's legs and feet began to twitch constantly.

However, his eyes were only focused on his master, Gerard.

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A brave man is stronger than anyone else, helps the weak, crushes great evil, and is favored by the gods.

Gerard did report that name, the alias that could only be reported after being baptized in the cathedral and receiving the title.

Indeed, the sixth generation of heroes of the Cathedral disappeared eight years ago, and the fifth generation of heroes before that seemed to have appeared decades ago.

So that's how it is. Come to think of it, it's no surprise that old man, Gerard Kaliba was once given the title of brave man. His age also fits his character.

However, it is still a bit hard to accept.

After all, no matter what, the people chosen as heroes should be those who respect morality and value justice, but Gerard Kaliba is the complete opposite of that... Did the former cathedral priests and popes have their eyes on their buttocks?

Or was Gerard Kaliba also such a kind person in the past? No, I really can't imagine that scene.

Besides, it doesn’t matter now whether Gerard Kaliba is a brave man or not.

Now, on this battlefield, the only thing left is that no matter how hard you struggle, you cannot avoid a showdown with him, and you must take his head here.

The enemy soldiers raised their spears with unprecedented momentum and rushed towards Murphy. The silver spear tips were filled with murderous intent and reflected the dark red of the sunset.

Soon, the two or three Heraldry soldiers around him turned into pieces of meat, their hearts stopped beating, and they tightly hugged the spears that pierced their abdomens.

Amid the thick stench of corpses, Murphy gripped the sword tightly with both hands, kicked the ground hard as he ran through the forest of guns.

At the expense of the heraldic soldiers, he managed to jump to the feet of Gerard Kaliba.

The enemy was still on his horse, and no matter how hard he swung his sword, he could not reach him, but there was no time to hesitate now.

Five seconds. If we can't end everything within five seconds, then it will be us who will end it.

When the time comes, we will die, of course, everyone will be finished, and everything we have done before will no longer have any meaning.

That's the only thing I'd better forget about.

Murphy swung the sword in his hand, letting the tip of the sword move along the track he had seen before.

That was the same strike that Filia had used before, a strike that cut the horse and the soldier on it in two.

If he wanted to imitate that attack exactly, there was no way he could do it.

However, if we simply follow that path, it will be just like putting our finger on the horizon of our dreams.

The moment he swung the sword, Murphy's fingertips let out a mournful cry, his spine was obviously twisted, and the scene of some muscles bursting appeared in his mind.

The black sword flickered, and the trajectory drawn by the tip of the sword could not be compared with Filia's refined flash.

Therefore, this swing did not directly break the horse's head in half like Filia did before, but succumbed to the hardness of the warhorse's skull and twisted forward.