Chapter 408

Our Discord Server: https://discord.gg/PazjBDkTmW

Chapter 408: The Fairness of Titles, Templar

In the sanctuary of heaven, a blind saintess walked.

She tightly held her hands, her entire body wrapped in a white nun’s gown and robe. The robe bore a pattern of scales, and her bare feet glided lightly over the ground, creating ripples of white with each step.

A few paces behind her, four knights moved silently. Dressed in light mithril chainmail, their helmets resembled closed wings, and their crests were pure white feathers. Despite the weight of their steel boots, there was no clanging sound as they walked, the armor light as paper.

Alena had never expected to meet them here, as there were multiple paths to enter the sanctuary. Located at the center of Broken Paradise, it could be approached from four different directions.

She could sense their presence, and naturally, they sensed hers as well.

The blind saintess stopped and turned toward Alena.

Without uttering a word, the saintess conveyed a suffocating pressure.

The conflict between the Allied Nations and the Sacred Religion was known to all. The two factions were bitter enemies, and there was no need for further explanation when they met.

Alena recognized these individuals instantly.

The Sacred Religion had more than one saintess. Each one was a carefully chosen elite, and there were currently four saintesses. One of them, called “Justice,” bore the symbol of a balance scale.

In the past, the mentor had managed to persuade three saintesses to defect from the Sacred Religion, a great shame to the order. However, these vacancies were quickly filled, as the Sacred Religion never lacked saintesses. There were always several backup candidates waiting to take their place.

The blind saintess was a revered figure, ranked as a second-grade heroic spirit. Among second-grade spirits, she was especially formidable.

Behind her stood four templars—the elite knights of the Sacred Religion.

Every nation has its own elite military unit, and for the Sacred Religion, the templar order was their most prestigious. The Allies boasted the Seven Nights Knightly Order, while the Sacred Religion’s templars were their pride.

Unlike the Judgment Knights, who served as arbitrators and carried a solemn air, templars were like the knights of the round table—unyielding, focused on strength and duty.

Alena wasn’t sure if she could even handle one saintess, let alone four templars.

“Stop her,” commanded the Blind Saintess. “Don’t let her interfere with our completion of paradise.”

Alena grabbed Guan Ling’s hand and leaped from the high stairs, several meters above. A powerful gust of wind struck the spot she had just vacated, cutting her skin with the impact of holy light.

“This is really tricky,” Alena muttered under her breath. “You need to go quickly.”

“But…” Guan Ling hesitated.

“The Sacred Religion doesn’t care about personal feelings. Just being a descendant of mine is blasphemy in their eyes. They won’t spare me, and you’ll be next,” Alena said. It wasn’t a threat, but a cold truth. The Sacred Religion’s belief in human supremacy was clear—they wouldn’t hesitate to execute those they deemed “unnatural.”

Alena had grown tired of hearing this. The Allied Nations had long proven that there was no biological divide between races. Humans could procreate with other races, and the idea of “human glory” was a dated belief, no longer rooted in reality.

This dogma might have been relevant during a time when humans were persecuted, their faith in the Supreme Will their only means of survival. But with the establishment of the empire and the acceptance of other races, this notion became obsolete. The Sacred Religion, however, clung to it fiercely, its ideology woven deep into the hearts of its followers.

Years ago, the mentor managed to convince several saintesses to switch allegiances, not solely due to his skill but because the Sacred Religion had recognized the necessity of expansion. Despite growing doubts about their doctrine, the Sacred Religion remained steadfast, and even the mentor couldn’t shake the unwavering faith of its followers.

The mentor had once said, “Faith is a good thing, but religion is not.”

This sentence encapsulated the Alliance’s understanding of the Sacred Religion: a faith-based group turned into a governing power, one of Europa’s dominant forces.

While the Sacred Religion may have flaws, there was no denying their military might. The Angel Army, summoned at will, and the mysterious system that mass-produced warriors allowed them to maintain formidable military power, regardless of their economic situation.

Alena, a talented student from an orthodox family, wasn’t yet ready to challenge the templars. Despite her lack of combat experience, she wasn’t afraid to fight, as every member of the Alliance shared the same conviction.

The Sacred Religion persecuted other races, while the Alliance despised these “pure-blood humans” who waged wars without remorse. When an entire nation is radicalized, there are no good people left—everyone is the same.

Alena drew her blood-stained ice sword, her training with Sasha in secret having paid off. Under the guidance of the world’s top bloodline professor, her progress rivaled that of Judy Selvicer.

The templar, whose face was hidden behind his helmet, wielded a heavy knight’s sword. The weapons clashed with a gust of wind. In an instant, Alena’s muscles and bones groaned in pain.

…Are you kidding me? I’m a high-level bloodline! My physical strength surpasses ordinary humans. I can enhance myself with blood magic and accelerate my heart rate. Even with triple enhancements, I’m still losing to him!

Alena’s dark red eyes flared with fury. As she stepped onto the ground, the dark red blood from her black silk skirt spread into sharp needles, forming ice spears that shot toward the templar. However, his armor, inscribed with protective runes, absorbed the impact—ordinary magic had no effect on him. His armor had A-level magical resistance.

Alena smirked, realizing the truth. Magic may be blocked, but what about temperature?

Ludemira’s Ice Blood Sword, fully activated, spread frost and subzero temperatures upon contact.

The templar tried to push her away, but it was too late. Alena collided with him, stabbing with her sword. Before he could counter, she withdrew and struck again. The sword, made of magic, twisted and turned like a thorny vine, ensnaring the templar’s armor.

After seventeen strikes, the templar was encased, frozen like a statue covered in frosty thorns. The armor couldn’t block the freezing temperatures—now it was minus thirty degrees, and even water turned to ice.

Though Alena’s magic and blood were almost depleted, she had trapped him, not killed him. Freezing him for ten days and nights might have done the job, but for now, she could only hope to contain him.

She stepped back cautiously, looking for an opportunity to escape.

Fortunately, the little hedgehog had already run hundreds of meters away, so Alena didn’t have to worry about carrying the extra burden.

She confirmed the templar’s entrapment and turned around, only to feel her pupils contract in horror.

A fiery hot iron hammer slammed into her body. Reacting on instinct, she protected her abdomen with her hands, but the tremendous force still sent her flying like a baseball struck by a bat.

Alena crashed into the mountainside, blood spewing from her mouth. Her right hand was shattered, her left hand twisted, and her internal organs suffered countless injuries. But the worst was the burning divine flame.

The divine flame technique was especially effective against non-humans, as their souls were fundamentally different. This prayer-miracle aimed at the Supreme Will seared her from the inside out.

Alena was in excruciating pain, nearly losing consciousness. She coughed blood, using cold magic to extinguish the flames, then struggled to stand. Her blood magic quickly activated, healing her wounds at the cost of her stored blood energy. As a high-level descendant, she could regenerate if she didn’t die. But this came at a heavy price, draining her life force.

There was no time to hesitate. Alena quickly restored her right arm and dodged the heavy hammer. It wasn’t just one hammer—there were two coming at her.

As she leaped into the air, an arrow shot by with a sharp whistling sound, grazing her shoulder and causing her to tumble. She quickly adjusted her body and landed, though she felt the weight of doubt settle in.

“Three of them?” Alena wondered, struggling to speak. Could she survive this challenge?

The templars moved forward, but Alena turned her head. She noticed that the fourth templar had already passed and was chasing after Guan Ling, moving so fast that only a blurred image remained.

Alena’s eyes turned blood-red, her sharp canine teeth bared as she let out a terrifying shriek.

The sound echoed far and wide, reaching even a figure resting with eyes closed. Slowly, the golden light in their eyes flickered open.