Beneath a gloomy sky, the cathedral district of North Tivian was in a state of busy chaos. Church personnel were moving busily inside and out. The Holy Guard had armed and formed ranks, and lingering civilian worshippers were being urged to leave. The entire district buzzed with noise and movement. In a corner near the entrance to the Grand Chapel, three Afterbirth cultists who had infiltrated the Hymn Cathedral gathered together. The werewolf named Blond stood with eyes tightly shut, attempting to mentally link with the dozens of beastkins resting inside the carriage compartments parked outside the district—trying to awaken them. These beastkins had been specially prepared by the Wolfblood Society for this operation. According to the original plan, they were to serve as the vanguard and expendable shock troops. Once the main defenders inside the cathedral were drawn away by the distant Crimson-rank decoy, the beastmen would be awakened and unleashed to cause initial chaos—drawing the attention of any remaining guards and creating an opening for the infiltrators to act. The Wolfblood Society’s goal was ideally to complete the operation without having to deploy their Crimson-rank member at all… “How’s it going? Are they ready?” Seeing that Blond had remained silent for some time, Sander, standing nearby, frowned and asked. At that moment, Blond opened his eyes, his expression deeply troubled. “No good… I can’t wake my beast servants. I don’t know why—they’re just not responding.” “What?” Warren, standing beside him, was visibly surprised and quickly added. “You can’t wake the beastkins? Could something have gone wrong with the outer arrangements? Should we head out to check?” “No. Didn’t you see? The Church dogs have already begun evacuation and lockdown. If we step outside now, it’ll be like walking into a fully activated defense grid. Even with beastkins, a frontal assault would be suicide...” Blond responded with grave seriousness. Hearing this, Sander hesitated slightly, then asked with a hardened expression. “Then what do we do now?” “No other choice—we go in directly. Strike fast, get the target before they’re fully ready.” Blond made the call. Warren and Sander exchanged a glance, then both turned to look at Blond and nodded solemnly. “Let’s begin.” With his companions’ agreement, Blond took the lead. The trio quickly left their hiding spot and moved toward their target. At that moment, a Holy Guard sergeant in plate armor, overseeing the evacuation, noticed their suspicious behavior and stepped forward to intercept. “You three over there—this area is no longer open to the public. Please follow the evacuation orders and leave immediately, or—ugh!” Before the guard could finish his sentence, Blond’s icy gaze locked onto him. In a flash, Blond struck, stepping forward and delivering a crushing punch to the guard’s chest. His armor shattered under the impact, and he was sent flying, slamming into a stone pillar and collapsing unconscious, coughing up blood. “Let’s stir things up a bit first.” After taking down the guard, Blond said to Sander, who nodded. “Got it.” In an instant, Sander’s clothing swelled unnaturally. From his collar and sleeves, swarms of flies and mosquitoes spewed forth in a dense cloud, accompanied by a thunderous buzzing as they spread outward toward the curious crowd of citizens and clergy drawn by the commotion. As the insects surged forward, panicked screams erupted. Some civilians fled in terror, while others—too slow—were swarmed and bitten. Red welts quickly spread across their skin, and one by one they collapsed, kneeling in weakness, vomiting in nausea. “ROAR!!” Seeing the scene descend into chaos, Blond and Sander added fuel to the fire. Their bodies swelled and burst through their clothing as they transformed into towering, 4- to 5-meter-tall black-furred werewolves. Their first act post-transformation was to unleash a fearsome howl, amplifying the terror in the area and sending the crowd into further frenzy. In seconds, the entire plaza before the grand chapel had become a scene of total anarchy. People ran aimlessly in panic. The insect swarm continued its indiscriminate biting, leaving more and more people collapsed and powerless. Seeing that the chaos had been successfully unleashed, Blond led Warren in a swift withdrawal—grabbing Sander along the way. The two werewolves turned into black streaks, sprinting toward another part of the Hymn Cathedral, leaving behind a swarming insect cloud and a panicked mass of civilians. … “Lady Vania! A massive disturbance has broken out in front of the Grand Chapel! There’s an ongoing mystical assault—we need support!” Back in the archbishop’s office, Gaspard burst in urgently, having just returned from delivering orders. He addressed the white-robed nun standing silently on the carpet, who was calmly gazing at a blank wall. “I know. I’ve already dispatched one squad of the Holy Guard and a small Crusader unit to handle it. No need to worry too much,” Vania replied coolly. Gaspard paused, surprised by her calm, then spoke again. “A single squad of the Holy Guard and one Crusader unit… Will that be enough? The chaos there is no minor skirmish—it’s clearly more than just a couple of low-rank heretics.” “Yes, that riot isn’t the work of ordinary Beyonders. But even so, all they’ve left behind are flies capable of spreading disease. While it may seem dramatic and widespread, it’s merely bait meant to draw our attention. That number of troops will suffice. “Right now, the main force of the invaders is headed elsewhere. They’re moving west along the northern corridor of the Sanctum Hall. Their target is likely the restricted vault. I’ve already ordered nearby units to intercept them, and additional Holy Guard and Crusader units are assembling at the vault entrance. You should head there as well, Cleric Gaspard.” Vania spoke coolly, her tone still distant. Gaspard blinked, then nodded quickly as realization dawned. “Yes, I’ll go at once.” With that, Gaspard left the room. Vania remained alone, silently staring at the blank wall ahead. In her wide eyes, a faint golden halo had begun to form around the edge of her irises. At this moment, Vania wasn’t merely staring at a wall—her eyes were piercing through countless material barriers, directly locking on Blond and his companions as they sped through the cathedral district. She was tracking their every move. As the acting archbishop of the Hymn Cathedral, Vania had the authority to connect herself with the divine ritual site of this temple-grade ritual site, using it to greatly amplify her abilities. Under the strengthening effects of this temple-grade ritual site, Vania’s Lantern vision was dramatically enhanced. She could now not only perceive mystical forces, but also gain extremely potent clairvoyant and x-ray sight. Within a radius of several kilometers centered on herself, nothing could escape her eyes. No barrier could obscure her vision. No trick from Blond or his group could deceive her. With such overwhelming true-sight support, Vania could allocate combat forces throughout the cathedral district without the interference of misinformation—preparing a proper "welcome" for Blond and company. … Elsewhere, in an eastern corridor of the cathedral district, two black blurs—transformed werewolves—raced between the interlinked buildings, sprinting toward their target destination as indicated by earlier intelligence. During their advance, they were repeatedly intercepted by Holy Guard forces, who fired upon them with bullets. Among the defenders were squads from the Crusaders, including multiple Beyonders. Despite the resistance, the werewolf-transformed Warren and Blond endured the hail of bullets while smashing through anyone who dared to block their path, carving their way forward through sheer brutality. Riding on Blond’s back, Sander played a crucial role. As they advanced, he continually released dense swarms of flies and mosquitoes. These tiny insects swarmed the defending soldiers, infecting them with severe rashes through nearly unavoidable bites. Overcome by nausea and weakness, the defenders collapsed en masse. Even Apprentice or Black Earth-rank Beyonders could not endure more than five seconds under such an assault. In fact, the casualties caused by Sander now surpassed those inflicted by the two werewolves. “Damn it… so many suicidal blockheads!” As he smashed another intercepting soldier into the ground, Blond muttered. He had lost count of how many brave “martyrs” had flung themselves into his path. While he could understand the snipers, he couldn’t fathom where so many fanatical zealots had come from. In truth, most of these “fanatics” were actually Dorothy’s corpse marionettes. Using the convenience provided by Vania, Dorothy had long since embedded her marionettes within the Tivian Church, ready to be activated at key moments. Finally, after breaking through wave after wave, Blond and company reached their destination: the archive building of the Hymn Cathedral. The restricted vault they sought was located beneath it. All that remained was to cross this final barrier. However, this final barrier was no easy crossing. As they rounded the last bloodstained corridor and turned the final corner, they arrived at a wide clearing before the archive building—and the sight before them caused their hearts to tighten. Battlefield. A fully established defensive line had been set up at the entrance. Thick sandbags were stacked into low walls. Behind them crouched Holy Guard soldiers in uniform, rifles aimed forward. In addition to dozens of standard rifles, seven or eight water-cooled heavy machine guns were mounted on the sandbags, with more positioned atop the building. Their dark barrels now pointed directly at the stunned werewolves. Thanks to the time bought by snipers and Dorothy’s marionettes—and Vania’s unaffected judgment—church forces had been perfectly deployed. These heavy-armed guards had been stationed nearby earlier under the guise of training and equipment checks, allowing for swift mobilization. “Open fire!” At a shouted command, all the gun barrels roared. The sound of gunfire thundered louder than fireworks as metal torrents sprayed from flaming muzzles. Within a split second, countless bloody holes were punched into the werewolves’ towering bodies. Both werewolves screamed in agony. Under the suppressive fire of over ten heavy machine guns, they had no choice but to dive for cover—one behind a statue, the other behind a nearby wall. “ROAR!!!” Once behind cover, the werewolves let out terrifying howls to induce fear, aiming to break the defenders’ morale and force them to flee. But this time, the howls failed. Not a single soldier flinched. That was thanks to the Commandment Adept deployed among the defenders. Using spiritual discipline, he stabilized the soldiers’ minds, rendering them immune to fear. With the fear tactic neutralized, the Radiance forces counterattacked. As if prepared for exactly this, mortar teams behind the line had long since loaded their shells. The moment the werewolves hid behind cover, the mortars launched. BOOM! A massive explosion tore through the courtyard. The werewolves’ makeshift shelters were obliterated, and the beasts themselves were thrown from the flames—screaming, burning, their fur scorched and flesh seared. With their cover destroyed, the werewolves were again exposed to relentless gunfire. Countless bullets tore through them, spraying blood in every direction. They were forced into desperate evasive maneuvers, darting to find new cover. Meanwhile, Sander, also pinned down by gunfire, released another swarm of insects, sending them flying straight at the Radiance line. But just then, two great jets of fire erupted from the battlefield, sweeping across the open area and incinerating the insect swarms in one fell swoop. The plague-carrying bugs were reduced to ashes. The two White Ash-rank Flame Acolytes, including Gaspard, had stepped in to counter Sander’s offensive. The insect threat was neutralized, but the raging fire also temporarily obstructed visibility and shooting lines. The werewolves seized the moment to strike again. Blond slammed the ground with immense force, launching a hail of sharp stones like shrapnel toward the defenders. Many ordinary soldiers and low-rank Beyonders were wounded or even pierced through, collapsing with groans of pain and clutching their bleeding wounds. However, the agony was short-lived. On the battlefield, Sister Anre, a priestess of the Holy Mother Path, immediately began activating her abilities. She comforted the wounded, healed their injuries, and relieved their suffering. More importantly, she wasn’t alone. Vania herself was helping. As acting archbishop, Vania had extended the domain of the cathedral’s sacred ritual, enlarging her healing range to cover the entire cathedral district and beyond. There was now no limit to how many she could heal simultaneously. Every wounded soldier—and even the civilians earlier harmed by Sander’s insects—were within her care. In her presence, not a single soul would be lost. With soldiers rapidly healing and reforming ranks, the two werewolves were also desperately using their spirituality to recover. They panted heavily, glaring with hatred. Their bodies were soaked in blood. And the scent of that blood, thick in the air, spread outward—free, unbound—until it was caught by a perception so powerful it nearly defied logic. … Northern outskirts of Tivian. Duval, cloaked in black, stood on a remote path, gazing silently up at the sky. He sniffed the familiar scent of blood on the wind and murmured. “…Looks like I’ll have to make a move after all.”