Release That Witch

The granite steps of the Kingdom of Everwinter's temple were stained with blood, which smelled sweet and a little pungent.     

Many bodies lay on the ground—bodies of the God's Punishment Army, believers, their own people, and also the Ironsand people of the Mojin Clan. Ryan saw different wounds on them. Most of them had traces of burnt marks on their bodies, and their broken limbs and intestines were everywhere. Ryan knew that the deaths were caused by the impact and incineration of the snow powder.     

He felt sticky beneath his feet for every step he took. The Judgement Army and believers of the church had a simply crazy will of fighting. The slaves who were strengthened by the pills did not retreat but they were clinging to the enemies with their flesh and blood as the shield in order for their companions to have a chance to strike. They became powerful and painless by taking the pills, but their vitals parts such as heart, neck, and head were still fragile. Besides, Her Majesty did not have extra armors for these cheap slaves.     

If they had not had the snow powder, it was hard to say that they would certainly win.     

[But we won...] Ryan's heart was burning like a fire. [We finally won!] The flags of Queen of Clearwater were fluttering on top of the city wall, and the strongest defensive point of the church had no resistance to the attack. As a result, Blacksail Fleet was no longer besieged in a corner of the Kingdom of Graycastle, and they did not have to exhaust their force little by little in the endless battles with Timothy.     

The temple hall was also in a mess, with scattering broken glass and overflowing blood everywhere on the ground. Ryan did not care about these and walked towards the woman who was standing in the center of the hall in high spirit. He knelt down on one knee and said, "Your Majesty, all the four gates have fallen into the hands of Blacksail Fleet. You're now the Queen of the Kingdom of Everwinter."     

"You've worked hard. Please rise." Garcia reached out to him.     

Ryan gently held the Queen's hand, symbolically kissed on the back of her hand, and stood up beside her.     

"Strange rituals," Kabala at the side coldly said, "you didn't even touch her hand. Why do you have to do this?"     

The unexpected question made him frown; however, the other party was the Chief of Sandstone Clan and it would not be appropriate for him to denounce her rudeness. He could only coldly say, "This is the common courtesy of nobility. It represents manner and respect. It'll be rude to touch her and it's normal for you not to able to understand as a people of Sand Nation."     

"Is that so?" She raised her eyebrows and pointed at her neck. "We're allies who just fought shoulder to shoulder. As soon as the battle ended, you forced me to wear this. The manner and respect of kingdoms of the continent are really confusing."     

An iron chain with a lifted center circled around Kabala's neck, which simply looked like an accessory. But Ryan knew that a God's Stone of Retaliation was wrapped in it. It was hard to take off by any other means other than the special key held by Garcia. Kabala was a witch so she had to be treated with caution. However, she did put in a lot of efforts in the war. Without her operation of command, the slaves who carried snow powder would not dare to attack the closed defense-line formed by the believers. He opened his mouth several times, not knowing what to say.     

"Well, stop arguing for such little thing." Garcia interrupted. "Don't forget the purpose we're here. Can't you tolerate a little stone for the vast land of survival?"     

"I'm just saying." Kabala shrugged. "I hope you can honor your promise."     

"Of course, this is the basis of our cooperation." The Queen smiled.     

"What should the Blacksail Fleet do next?" Ryan asked.     

"We'll talk about the next step later. Let's watch a good show for now." Garcia clapped and ordered the guards. "Bring her here."     

After a while, two armored guards brought a woman whose hands were tied at her back into the temple.     

She was about 30 years old, with an ordinary look and messy brown hair scattering on both sides of her cheeks. She wore a golden church robe with exquisite workmanship and fine materials, which was generally only worn by the archbishop in Hermes. The gorgeous robe, with stains of blood, was torn apart at a few places.     

"She is a... archbishop?"     

"Yes," the Queen of Clearwater said, "I confirmed with a few nobles that she's one of the three archbishops of the church, Her Excellency Heather." She looked at the woman and said, "Am I right?"     

"..." Heather did not answer, but Ryan could see the strong ridicule and disdain from her eyes.     

Obviously, Garcia also felt the same and she chuckled. "I don't think you'll surrender, so in my kind thought, I brought you to the temple to send you back to the mercy of the Kingdom of God. You can beg for the salvation of the deities, or you may also beg for my forgiveness. I'll slowly cut off your fingers, limbs and facial features so that you can fully experience the pain and helplessness of the people in Port of Clearwater."     

"And then?" said the female archbishop, "do you want to be crushed by the army of the church? Or do you intend to drift on the sea for a lifetime without landing?"     

"You don't have to worry about this," Garcia said while gestured the guards to take action, "the church's army is now attacking Wolfheart City, and Hermes is left undefended. It's more important than my life. I may not be able to set foot on the land of the new Holy City, but I can easily turn the old Holy City under the plateau into ruins. You should have heard of the water of Styx's River at the most southern corner of the Kingdom of Graycastle, which is very ignitable but extremely hard to extinguish. I've got an entire boat with me this time."     

The guard pulled out a dagger and approached the archbishop who was pressed on the ground, neatly cutting off her two fingers.     

Heather bit her teeth and did not even utter for pain.     

The Queen of Clearwater stepped onto the main ladder of the hall and sat on the spacious throne, with her right-hand supporting her chin, revealing the joy.     

... Another three fingers were cut off, and then Heather's left hand had become a bare palm. Her forehead was full of sweat.     

"Do you have to do this?" Kabala shook her head. "If it were not a deterrent to the enemy or to interrogate for information, it would be unnecessary to torture."     

"Unnecessary?" Garcia laughed. "That's what you should say to her. Do you know what happens to the witches who fall into the hands of the church? I guess you wouldn't be interested in it."     

"Hahaha..." Heather, who had lost all her fingers, suddenly laughed. "You don't understand the greatness of the church, and you don't understand how important the Holy City is. You're always accompanied by ignorance, not knowing the coming doomsday! Hermes will show you what the real power is. Those who're against the church will have no other endings other than the destruction!"     

"Really..." Garcia crossed her legs and smiled. "In this case, I'll wait and see."     

The archbishop did not beg for mercy even until the moment she died. However, Ryan was surprised that she did not even call for the Gods and, nor asked for the God's salvation. Finally, Heather died of excessive blood loss and her expression was impassively terrible when she was losing consciousness. It seemed that she was not being tortured, but rather she was watching a farce that had nothing to do with her. Ryan felt as if he saw his destined future through her eyes.     

This feeling made him feel inexplicable and almost breathless.     

"Cut her head down and hang it in front of the church," Garcia ordered after confirming the archbishop was dead. And, she looked at Ryan and said, "Now, we can talk about the next step."     

"Yes, Your Majesty." He suppressed the discomfort in his heart and asked, "Do you intend to attack Hermes?"     

"Yes, but not with full force." She spread out a carry-on leather map. "Only with a minimum number of sailors and part of slaves of the Eastern Region, the Blacksail Fleet will flow along the river to the west, heading for the old Holy City. And, we're going directly to the south, across the border of the Kingdom of Everwinter and the destination is the Wolfheart City."     

"Wolf... heart?" Ryan was shocked.     

"I had an agreement with Woolf, the King of the Wolfheart." Garcia said, "if I could help him defeat the church, he would help me take over the entire Kingdom of Everwinter. In this case, if the church didn't withdraw the army, the boats which are loaded with snow powder and the water of Styx's River are enough to burn the old Holy City. Unlike the new Holy City, it's a city without walls. In addition, if we don't gather enough manpower, there would be no way to stop the slaves from attacking."     

"If they retreat, Wolfheart City will have some breathing space. And, if both the countries merged, we can also work together to defeat the church in the future!"     

"That's true," said the Queen of Clearwater, "and then we can have a hold of the Kingdom of Everwinter."