Chapter 493 — The White Knights' Way of Fighting

The curtain of light covering the cathedral doors could no longer withstand the endless damage; it shattered like broken white crystal into fragments that flew through the air. Two White Knights like giants of steel swung their heavy mechanical power hammers and brought them down with all their strength on the gilded white doors—as the hammerheads met the doors, the repulsion mechanisms and gravity-adjustment runes within the hammers activated in an instant, and in that instant too brief for human reaction the hammers unleashed a terrible impact enough to reduce boulders to dust. With a thunderous roar, the doors of Frostgate Cathedral burst apart.

"Activate shields!"

The White Knights were first to charge through the gaping doors, each activating the energy shield on his armor; holy white curtains of light wrapped around these warriors... these field chaplains. They strode through the smoke and dust, loosing a roar that belonged to them alone: "The doctor is here!!"

In the swirling smoke and dust a dozen holy-light spells, some strong and some weak, came flying from the opposite side, raising rings of ripples across the White Knights' energy shields. Wright carried the heavy mechanical power hammer in one hand and pressed forward unafraid into the enemy's attacks. As the smoke cleared he saw what lay opposite—seven or eight wounded Church knights had formed a tottering line of defense, a thin film of holy light flickering over their metal shields and armor; without mana capacitors and overload modules to feed them, human flesh could output only so much energy in such a situation—and behind those Church knights stood several dozen clerics and priests in cloth robes, who looked utterly unable to withstand a blow.

Was this all the resistance Frostgate Cathedral had left?

Those feeble clergy and the Church knights guarding them huddled together at the far end of the hall. Seeing the White Knights who had smashed through the doors and the "mobs" pouring in without cease, those among them who still had courage voiced their stand in loud curses: "You devil-possessed rabble! You'll go to hell! Your devil master will burn you ten thousand times! The God of Holy Light will—"

But the loud curses could not stop the White Knights. As an elite force converted from professional soldiers, the first White Knights into the cathedral carried out to the letter the tactical drill they had practiced countless times in the battle companies—raise shields, take the nearest cover, draw grenades from the belt, pull the pins and throw, and add a dozen shots of shock hand-cannon for good measure.

A brutal barrage of explosions drowned out every objection the priests of Luan had left. In the vast smoke and thunder of the grenades, only great sheets of holy light flared up and went out again.

Wright shouldered his hammer and led his men forward. Through the drifting smoke he saw that a scant few priests of Luan and Church knights were still moving—men who had survived by virtue of protective artifacts, enormous luck, and the comrades beside them. They saw the White Knights closing in, and one priest, almost by reflex, raised his hand and gathered a searing bolt of light to hurl at Wright.

Wright neither dodged nor flinched, letting the bolt fly to his face—and a small, half-transparent figure flashed out of the air. With startling agility the little shape caught the light, then, stuffing the bolt into its mouth and gnawing on it, dissolved back into the air.

The sight, utterly contrary to common sense, made the attacking priest cry out: "...Devils... devils!! You're all devils!!"

Wright tightened his grip on the hammer and walked toward the priest of Luan, who had begun to rave: "Anyone who stands against you, you call a devil and a heretic, while the teachings of the holy light are forgotten behind your backs. The power to judge ought to belong to justice, yet in your hands it has become—enough. Megaton Hammer!!"

The fight in the cathedral hall was over in a very short time. When the last enemy fell, Wright shouldered his hammer again and turned to the men beside him: "There can't be only this many people in the Great Cathedral... the other clerics are probably hiding in the various rooms and secret passages. Split up and search, and while you're at it, see that the wounded civilians and volunteer mercenaries are treated in time."

The White Knights departed at his command, while more mercenaries, adventurers, and armed commoners began filing into the Grand Cathedral and the several annexes clustered around it, sweeping room by room after the priests who had gone to ground—yet for all that the tide seemed to be running so smoothly, Wright could not keep from knitting his brows.

A patch of shadow welled up in the air beside him, and Amber sprang out of the darkness onto the floor: "That Fran Belang is not among these priests."

In an instant Wright understood where that nagging sense of wrongness in his heart had come from, and almost in the same breath he felt a surge of anomalous energy pulsing up from deep within the cathedral.

One of the White Knights keeping watch nearby caught it at the same moment—the eyepiece on his armor, fashioned to detect abnormal fluctuations of magic, showed him the gathering of that dangerous energy: "Great Patriarch! Something is happening! Down below—"

"I'll go and see for myself!"

...