Chapter 10: The Final Blow

“They are degenerating! If we don’t stop them, the Church of Light will surely sink and become slaves to darkness.” Norolla paced back and forth frantically, waving his arms excitedly. His magnificent robes rippled with his emotions. “We must stop them.”
“But how can we stop them? The Pope still hasn’t emerged from seclusion, and our requests for an audience have gone unanswered. I suspect the Pope is deliberately avoiding us, or perhaps he simply doesn’t want to see us,” Lorenzo said softly.
“What? Impossible! How could the Pope support these people, allow them to drag the Church of Light into the abyss of darkness? That’s absolutely impossible!” Norolla screamed in panic, then stopped abruptly and glared at his companion. “You’re exaggerating!”
“Is that so?” Lorenzo smiled bitterly. “In fact, we’ve known this for a long time. Our Church of Light is shrinking, yet we can’t find the right path to change. Whether it’s the Order of Salvation, Frenst, or Vazinki, they’re all exploring. The Pope is well aware of this. Do you think Welch and the others can hide from the Pope’s prophetic powers? The Pope is merely using them, hoping their efforts will bring change to the Church of Light. But so far, he probably hasn’t seen what he wants, which is why he continues to seclude himself.”
“Hmph, you mean he’s choosing to escape?”
“That’s what I think,” Lorenzo replied coldly. “Apart from that, I can’t see any other reason for him to seclude himself at this time and refuse external calls.”
Norolla fell silent. Lorenzo had voiced his own concerns. The Pope’s untimely seclusion had already raised doubts in him, and his refusal to respond was even more strange.
But as the leader of the Tribunal, he would never back down no matter the difficulties. Welch had completely degenerated. He thought that his so-called reforms would win more people’s support, but it was actually a vulgar trend. Even if it attracted more followers, what good was it? What meaning did betrayal and transformation hold if they only gained more people’s faith?
Frenst and Vazinki were following Welch’s example. They might go even further. A bad start often leads to more imitators. The question was what the Pope thought—his attitude determined everything.

Taking a deep breath, Noroya raised her intense gaze toward her companion: “Lorenzo, what should we do now? Sit back and wait for death, turn a blind eye, or stay hidden?”
Lorenzo knew that his companion had already made up her mind deep down. He understood her personality better than anyone else—even the Pope couldn’t change what she had decided in her heart.
“Noroya, do you think we can succeed?”
“What does success or failure matter? As long as we try, that’s enough.” The glow in Noroya’s eyes grew brighter.
“But why don’t we strive for a similarly satisfying success?” Lorenzo asked.
“Is that even possible?” Noroya shook her head. “Lorenzo, I never have unrealistic dreams. With the support we have now, it’s hard for us to achieve a real victory.”
Lorenzo sighed. He knew he couldn’t stop her. “How do you plan to start?”
“Frenst and Vazinki are both working with that dark remnant in Nicomedia, trying to start over there. And Jishiji will thrive in Nicomedia—everything stems from that dark remnant. I hate that I let that guy escape back then. Even the spatial rift didn’t swallow him. This time, I don’t want to leave any regrets.”
“Have you made up your mind? That guy isn’t what he used to be. He’s surrounded by too many strong fighters now. Even if we work together, it might not be enough…”
“It’s not just ‘might not be enough’—we simply don’t have a chance.” The fanatical glow in Noroya’s eyes remained, but her expression was utterly calm, untouched by emotions.
Lorenzo’s eyes lit up. It seemed Noroya’s emotions hadn’t affected her judgment.
“So what do you mean…?”
“We need external help. That guy has quite powerful warriors around him. Last time, even Trajan suffered greatly in the Tower of Imprisonment. If we go out to attack this time, it will be even harder. So we must rely on outside forces. Relying only on our own strength is just asking for humiliation,” Noroya said calmly.
Lorenzo’s mind raced. Who could provide help? Trajan? Michelangelo? Neither seemed possible. Vazinki and Frenst were drifting further away from their side; they certainly wouldn’t join.
“Who? Who can take on this responsibility?”
“Caesar, and his Wind Riders.”

“Huh? Caesar? Him?” Lorenzo was shocked. For a moment, he thought Norolla had gone mad—Caesar would only obey the Pope’s orders and never take instructions from anyone else.
“You don’t believe it?” Norolla smiled faintly.
“Caesar will join us?”
“Don’t view Caesar and the others as so mysterious. They have their own opinions. The Pope has never interfered with their views or tried to influence their inclinations. That’s exactly our opportunity. I’ve already formally invited Caesar and his Wind Riders to help us eradicate the remnants of darkness.”
“And their reply?”
“Not yet a definite answer, but they haven’t refused either, which already suggests something. I believe they’ll make a wise decision.” Norolla was confident. With Caesar on our side, the chances of success could be over 90%.
“Just Caesar alone might not be enough. The Homer Knights and the Wave Knights both have outstanding warriors like LeClair. Unless the Holy Knights of the Wind Riders…” Lorenzo hesitated before continuing.
“I understand. This time, we must be absolutely sure.” Norolla’s expression darkened. “For the sake of faith, I’m willing to give up everything, even my own life.”