Chapter 18: We’re Here!

Two interesting guys arrived one after another—what a coincidence. Komer had to set aside his desire to think in peace and focus on dealing with this troublesome individual. Fortunately, Shatima only came to inquire about her mission, insisting that Komer assign her the most important and difficult tasks. Of course, Komer was glad to have someone so eager to take on challenges. With Sorenberg, Vladkov, and Shatima, Komer was confident that even a holy knight would find it hard to deal with such a formidable trio—provided they could work together closely.

Now everything was ready except for the final push. The Salvation Society must have a strong presence in the city of Marco as well. The real danger came from within. Komer understood this well. The fact that the Salvation Society had managed to hide within the Church of Light for so many years without being eradicated proved their strength and resilience. However, openly challenging the Church of Light at such a time was clearly not something they wanted to do. But given Komer’s strong pressure, it was remarkable that they were willing to take this step.

Everything would be decided by tomorrow. Komer got up from bed and stood by the window. Marco, the sacred city revered by ordinary people—let me witness its fervor.

Schiller felt uneasy. After all, this wasn’t his first time temporarily taking charge of the Inquisition. After Lord Nojora and Lord Lorenzo left with their entourages, the Inquisition became rather quiet. Practitioners usually meditated silently in their own rooms, and the library was a place they often visited. Schiller had inspected every building in the Inquisition twice, and nothing unusual was found. The same was true of the Tower of Imprisonment. The guards were diligent, and the heretic imprisoned there, though stubborn, remained quiet. Everything seemed normal as usual.

But why was there always an indescribable sense of unease deep in his heart? It was an unexplainable intuition; Schiller could only attribute it to a special sensitivity resulting from his long-term practice of psychic precognition. Yet this sensitivity was highly accurate, so Schiller kept hoping to identify the problem through careful observation. To his slight relief, when Nojora and Lord Lorenzo left, they had also contacted Lord Vazinki. Given the current extraordinary circumstances, with an heretic still imprisoned in the Inquisition, they agreed to cooperate and send reinforcements at any time in case of emergencies—a rare occurrence for both sides.

When the alarm bells finally rang around the Prison Tower, Schiller felt a bitter taste in his mouth. With a swift movement, he leaped out of the room. Light seals had already been placed around the Prison Tower; any being with impure magic would trigger an alarm as soon as they approached within fifty paces, and if they entered within ten paces, the bells would sound continuously. But the alarm bells rang without any prior warning—what did this mean? It meant the intruder must be a skilled expert who had managed to get as close as ten paces without being detected, and their aim was clearly the heretic in the Prison Tower.

The heart bell rang quietly, sending a warning to all members of the Inquisition to heighten their vigilance and counter the intruders. This was the first time Schiller had heard such a heart bell ring in all these years. Though it happened under specific circumstances, it was an unforgivable shame for the Inquisition.

Komer watched the men before him with interest. It was obvious that the Salvation Society also lacked an accurate understanding of the Inquisition’s security layout. These three men were clearly experts at the level of holy knights. The intense glow in their eyes and the flickering combat energy on their knightly spears, stretching three feet long, proved they were close to achieving true holy knight status. Komer knew that such light knights who were half a step away from holy knight status were referred to in the Light Church as “celestial-grade knights,” meaning they had stepped onto the path to holiness and only needed one final step to become true holy knights. In the entire Light Church, very few people reached this stage.

Just the appearance of these three people sent a chill down Kommer’s spine. Although he had been confident he could win this battle after learning that Norolla and Lorenzo seemed to be absent, the arrival of these three true powerhouses made him realize that winning wasn’t so easy after all.

It seemed there was more to it— the appearance of four mages also proved that the Inquisition still possessed considerable strength even with the two giants gone. One of them, a white-haired priest with flowing beard, immediately caught Kommer’s attention.

As soon as he appeared, the situation, which had initially favored Kommer due to the element of surprise, seemed to reverse instantly. His steady, deliberate steps and gestures as he stroked his beard appeared natural, blending seamlessly with the entire space. All of Kommer’s mages couldn’t help but fix their eyes on him, their own momentum firmly suppressed by his presence.

Interesting, Kommer thought, rubbing his chin with his left hand thoughtfully. A light mage skilled in psychic magic— truly interesting. He had been disappointed by Norolla and Lorenzo’s absence, having prepared thoroughly with a large force to confront them. Now, it seemed he could still have some fun, at least with this psychic mage worth considering carefully.

The other three mages also seemed no ordinary characters, which puzzled Kommer. The messages from the Salvation Society had said that Norolla and Lorenzo should have left a few days ago, possibly taking many important figures from the Inquisition with them. Norolla and Lorenzo had indeed left, but what about these four mages? Were they not considered important in the Inquisition?

Then there were those three quasi-saint knights at the celestial rank. With just a slight sense, Kommer could tell that each of them was only one step away from ascending to the saintly realm. To some extent, these three quasi-saint knights could easily overwhelm either Norolla or Lorenzo in a one-on-one fight, but in a two-on-one scenario, they would have a clear advantage. In a three-on-one fight, Norolla or Lorenzo might not even get a chance to escape. How could three such powerful figures suddenly appear? Who exactly were they?

Sorenberg’s hair stood on end—this trip had been worth it! When the three Rank-Sum Knights appeared in sight, his initial displeasure at hearing that the two giants of the Tribunal were not at home was instantly forgotten. The presence of such opponents meant that whatever the outcome of this journey, it would be worthwhile.

The first Rank-Sum Knight, who moved as if stepping through nothingness, undoubtedly became Sorenberg’s target. A faint white halo formed around the knight’s body, and his milky-white Light Combat Qi became even clearer—a sign of its peak manifestation. To achieve such mastery in every movement was no wonder he could stand firmly at the forefront. His calmness and confidence in the face of Komer and the others made him seem like one looking down on insignificant ants. This arrogance and disdain filled everyone, including Komer and Sorenberg, with an overwhelming sense of rage.

Vladkov was equally tense, his gaze fixed on the Rank-Sum Knight in the center, whose expression remained the most indifferent. This knight hadn’t even drawn his knight spear from his back; instead, he played with his knight sword as he walked, carefully polishing it with a piece of snow-white silk in his other hand, as if oblivious to everything around him, focusing solely on his task.

That’s what a true strongman looks like!

Vladkov was so excited he could almost roar. He knew his strength fell short compared to the other man, but that was precisely what excited him. Only by challenging stronger opponents could he continue to improve his martial skills. The frustration of finding no worthy rivals was the greatest trouble for someone at his level.

To be able to challenge strongmen—dying would be no regret! That was the pursuit of a warrior.

Shatima clearly didn’t share Sorenberg and Vladkov’s sense of excitement and enthusiasm. For her, having a decent opponent to vent her growing frustration was enough. During her time in the Caucasus, she had only fought Leclerc seriously; Sorenberg and Vladkov both refused to test themselves against her, who relied entirely on brute force. Now, at last, she had another chance—there were three opponents, one for each of them. Shatima didn’t care as much as Sorenberg and Vladkov about who got which role; they could choose the remaining ones for themselves. After all, they were all targets for her to crush. As long as she was strong enough to satisfy her desire, that was sufficient.

The last Tier 1 Knight looked rather unimpressive. Compared to the arrogance and composure of the first two Tier 1 Knights, his knight’s armor seemed utterly out of place, giving him an appearance as if it were half his size. His round head was covered in fat, with only the axe spear in his hands reminding one of his status as a warrior.

Axe spears were rarely used by knights, who preferred knight lances and swords. Like their armor, these weapons seemed to be symbols of knighthood—without them, a knight’s identity seemed to be questioned. This guy, with his short, squat build, a serious expression that always made people want to laugh, ill-fitting armor, no knight lance or sword, just an axe spear of similar length to a knight lance—only the emotionless indifference in his eyes made it clear he would be merciless once he struck.

Ke silently sensed the changes around him. The Dark Eye was open, allowing him to clearly perceive the surroundings. It seemed that most of the information from the Salvation Society was accurate—the Inquisition didn’t seem to have many members, at least far fewer were heading toward the Tower of Confinement than usual. He hadn’t expected to encounter so many strong opponents right here at the Tower of Confinement. But as long as Nuoyao La and Lorenzo weren’t around, Ke was confident these few opponents wouldn’t be able to stop him, despite their strength.

The buildings in Marco City are quite scattered, giving the entire area a spacious and disorganized appearance. Aside from the WestBrahma Palace standing in the center as a landmark, most buildings are located on the outskirts of the city. The two major churches are also a considerable distance away from the Inquisition. Even if they received warnings from the Inquisition, it would likely take an hour for them to reach here. An hour—this was the deadline for this battle.

“Marco, we’re here! Rebrí, we’re here! The Church of Light, we’re here!”

Komer smiled lightly and stepped forward with confidence. Although the three Knight of the Heavenly Stairs stood at a distance, maintaining their dignity, the four mages had already formed a semi-circle to encircle Komer and his group. Yet everyone seemed to exercise great restraint, as if waiting for something.

Komer’s words were like kindling thrown onto a dry field, instantly setting the entire land ablaze. Giovanni, Conti, and the group of dark mages behind them had eyes red as blood. To be able to act so boldly in Marco, hailed as a holy city by the Church of Light, in front of the Inquisition and the Tower of Confinement, was undoubtedly the greatest stimulus and challenge for a dark believer.

For Mihajić, Newman, and Clarence, this was also an opportunity to achieve supreme glory. Marco’s significance wasn’t only evident to the Church of Light and the dark forces; it was comparable to Prague, the capital of Bohemia, known as the city of magic. In some ways, its status was even higher, as the influence of the Church of Light had surpassed that of the magical world. For mages, being able to challenge the light mages in Marco was a feat worthy of admiration.